Progenitor - Michael Jan Friedman [23]
For that matter, Wu couldn’t be sure Jiterica’s people were even capable of emotion. Could they feel loyalty? Gratitude? Disappointment? Only Jiterica could answer those questions with any confidence.
Wu had believed that the ensign’s actions back in the science section had their roots in a feeling of loneliness. But even that assumption might have been in error—a case of a human interpreting an alien’s behavior on the basis of her own.
All the more reason for me to get to know Jiterica, the second officer told herself. If I can reach her, understand her, I can help others to do the same.
As she and her charge approached their seats, Wu became aware that they were being watched—and not just by a few crewmen here and there. Nearly everyone in the mess hall was staring at them, perhaps wondering what Jiterica was doing here.
Wu wondered if the ensign was aware of the scrutiny. For her sake, the commander hoped not.
“Here we are,” she said, pulling out a chair for the Nizhrak. “Go ahead and sit down.”
Jiterica studied the chair as if it were a rare celestial phenomenon, something she had never seen before. Then she tried to turn her suit around and settle into it.
It was a difficult maneuver—much more difficult than Wu would have thought. After all, Jiterica hadn’t seemed to have any trouble sitting down in the science section or in her quarters.
But now that the commander thought about it, those places had swivel chairs without armrests. None of the chairs in the mess hall were of the swivel variety and they all had armrests. She bit her lip, wishing she had anticipated the problem before she invited the ensign to have dinner with her.
But she hadn’t. She had acted blithely, confident that her good intentions would be sufficient. And now the ensign was paying the price for her shortsightedness, striving with the chair as if she were wrestling a mugato.
Wu looked around and saw people wincing in sympathy with Jiterica’s efforts. She had to wince a little herself.
Finally, the ensign inserted her suit securely between the armrests. But her trials weren’t over, because she then had to turn the chair around and slip it under the table.
Wu did her best to help, but it was still an arduous task. It took a full minute for the two of them to pivot Jiterica’s chair ninety degrees and push it up to the table. And even then, she didn’t look comfortable. The containment suit was too bulky to permit much movement, so the Nizhrak just sat there as if she were paralyzed.
Fortunately, she didn’t need to move. As Jiterica had pointed out to the second officer in her quarters, she didn’t take in nutrients the way that humanoids did.
Walking around the table, Wu sat down opposite her companion. It was then that she received an answer to at least one of her questions about the ensign.
Jiterica’s face, pale and insubstantial-looking as it was, showed definite signs of embarrassment. Her brow was pinched and her eyes moved from one onlooker to another, making it clear that she was all too aware of them.
“So,” said Wu, “how do you like it on the ship so far?”
The ensign looked at her. “I have no complaints.”
It wasn’t the kind of response Wu had hoped for. Obviously, this was going to take some work.
“You’ve been in every section of the ship by now,” the commander noted. “You must have made some pretty interesting observations.”
Jiterica seemed to weigh the remark for a long time. “I have made observations,” she agreed at last. “However, it is difficult for me to say which of them you may find interesting.”
Wu shrugged. “Try me.”
The Nizhrak’s ghost-visage frowned. “All right. Two days ago, I was assigned to the security section.”
The second officer recalled the assignment. But then, one of her duties was to put together the weekly training schedules for all junior officers serving on the Stargazer.
“When I arrived, Lieutenant Joseph