The Expanse - J.M. Dillard [22]
On her bed lay a pile of civvies, neatly folded and ready to be packed into a nearby container—her mother had chided her over the fact that they were not only worn out, but out of style, so they were going back to be recycled. At the moment, she was going through her bookshelves, trying to decide which ones she could bear to part with. It wasn’t easy, but she decided to be tough.
She ran her hand over a volume: An Introduction to Farsi, Volumes I-III. It was well written, with wonderful tidbits about the culture; she hated to leave it, but she’d already read through it twice, and had a working knowledge of the language.
Into the crate it went.
She picked up another one: Advanced Attic Greek. A bit pedantic, but still a good read. She sighed; it would have to go, too. Into the crate.
The door chimed; she turned to face it. “Come in.”
Archer entered, looking a bit more rested, a bit less tense than he’d been in previous days.
“What a pleasant surprise,” Hoshi said.
Archer smiled. “How’d it go with your folks?” There was something sad, poignant in the smile that made Hoshi want to make him feel better. They’d all been moved by the tragedy, but now it was time to get on with the mission. Hoshi herself felt the need to streamline her cabin, to get rid of everything extraneous. Besides, it helped ease her nervous anticipation until the mission got under way.
Her tone was light, teasing. “I think I might need to brush up on my Japanese.”
Archer sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the containers, and let go a barely audible snicker. “I doubt it.”
Hoshi continued to pack, comfortable in the Captain’s presence, although uncertain as to why he had come.
“We got new upgrades for the Universal Translator,” Archer said.
She was pleased. “That ought to make life a lot easier.” She’d been more than a little concerned about the types of alien languages they were going to encounter.
“It’ll never replace a linguist with a magical ear,” Archer said.
Was it her imagination, or was his voice a bit husky? She smiled. “Not so magical.” She went back to her packing, pulling another book from the shelf.
“That’s a matter of opinion.” The Captain paused. “You’ve been invaluable to this mission ... to me ... ever since we left spacedock. You were a little shaky at first ... but who wasn’t?”
Hoshi was touched; rather than reply—she didn’t quite know what to say to such kind words—she glanced down at the open book in her hands, closed it, and put it back on the shelf.
Curious, Archer retrieved it, and peered at the cover.
“Languages of the Sub-Sahara,” he read, then said, with humor, “I’m surprised you’re leaving this one here.”
Hoshi didn’t get the joke. She looked at him blankly and said, “I haven’t read it yet.”
It was Archer’s turn to be puzzled. “So why not take it with you?”
Hoshi stared at him for an instant—and suddenly understood. Archer was sad, and telling her what she’d meant to him, because he thought she was packing to leave. He thought he had been saying good-bye.
“Captain ...” She pointed to the half-filled container. “I’m sending these books home to my mother. That’ll give me more shelf space. There’s been a lot written about alien languages since we’ve been gone.”
Archer’s expression was one of dawning relief. “And the clothes are going to ...”
“... to my mother.” Hoshi gave a wry little grimace. “I thought it might be time to ‘upgrade’ my civvies.”
A beat, then Archer admitted, “I thought you were leaving?”
Her tone was gently scolding. “Why would you think that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know ... You’re a teacher, an academic ...”
“And that means I’m not capable of handling myself on the new mission?”
“That’s not what I meant ...”
She stopped packing and faced him, her manner adamant. “I don’t know what’s inside this Expanse, sir, but I think I’ve proven that I can handle myself in difficult situations ... and