Expendable - James Alan Gardner [106]
Three years had passed since Jelca arrived with the generator; now the ship was ready. Some people talked as if it might take off tomorrow. Others contended the ship needed months of shakedown before departure. Within a few minutes, both camps were appealing to me as a disinterested party: someone who hadn’t talked herself hoarse in the go-now-or-wait debates that had dominated every mealtime for a dozen weeks. Before I could say stop, I was barraged with measurements and test results, pages of figures and diagrams which both sides claimed would prove their point….
Then Ullis said, “She’s a zoology specialist,” and the debaters lost interest in me.
Ullis
Unlike Jelca, Ullis Naar had greeted me warmly when I arrived at the Explorers’ mess. She hugged me; she recognized Oar immediately and hugged her too. Since Jelca looked like he wanted to run off and eat by himself, Ullis took me around to meet everyone. “This is Festina Ramos and yes, she’s one of us even if she looks gorgeous.”
(I had explained about the artificial skin. She said she was happy for me, and she meant it. Her own problem was still much in evidence: blink, blink, blink every second or so, some blinks so heavy they twitched all the way to her shoulders. I found myself feeling sorry for her…feeling pity. It was a patronizing, “Oh the poor dear” kind of pity, and it scared me. I’d never before felt condescension for another Explorer.)
Ullis was the one who described how Jelca had obtained the Sperm-field generator; Jelca stood by silently as she spoke, as if the story were about someone else. Later, when lights throughout the city dimmed to dusk, Ullis explained that the dimming was Jelca’s work too. He wanted a true day/night cycle rather than the city’s eternal glimmer, so he had tracked down the control center and rewired some circuits. Perhaps, I thought, that change had been the impetus which spurred the glass populace into leaving. People who photosynthesize may not take kindly to strangers turning the lights off.
The arrival of night didn’t quiet the Explorers’ mess. The others were eager for news from home, gossip about the Fleet, updates on the lives of friends they had once known…but at last Ullis said, “Enough. Festina needs sleep. We all do.”
I agreed. With good-nights all around, Ullis and I detached ourselves from the company and went into the silent city. I might not have been so quick to go if Oar and Jelca had been there, but they had left much earlier—Oar bored with Explorer talk, and Jelca because Oar took his hand and pulled him away. I had not been able to read the expression on Jelca’s face as he walked out with her: neither happy nor sad, neither fearing time alone with her nor looking forward to it. Whatever Oar wanted from him, I doubted she would get it.
Ullis led me away from the central square, a few blocks’ walk to a tower where she had claimed an apartment on the sixtieth floor. The city was dark now—only a few distant lights showing where Explorers had staked territory in other buildings. The lights were widely spaced from each other: people who live in glass houses don’t want close neighbors. On the other hand, solid glass walls give a breathtaking view from sixty storeys up.
Ullis came in beside me as I stood on her glassed-in balcony, looking out over the city. “So,” she said. “Home sweet home.” She paused. She blinked. “You’re welcome to stay here if you like. Roommates again.”
“I don’t want to put you out.”
“No trouble.” She blinked, then laughed. “I may get sick of you eventually, but at the moment I’m nostalgic for Academy days.”
“Isn’t everyone.”
She turned to look at me. Her shoulder leaned against the exterior glass; beyond her, the city was as black as space. “I’m sorry about Yarrun. I liked him.”
“Me too.”
She waited. I said nothing more.
Finally she said, “I’m also sorry