Star Wanderers: Tales of the Far Outworlds (Omnibus V-VIII) Page 9

  “No problem, no problem,” said the station master. “Come, I take you shipyard director.”

  “Okay, but only for talk, right? Just talk—no stay.”

  The station master gave him a funny look and waved his hand dismissively. Jakob did not find the gesture encouraging.

  The shipyard director lived in a corner office on the second floor, closest to the station wheel’s inner rim. The moment they entered, Jakob realized that they were in a private residence and not an office. Mattresses lined the walls, with a small futon opposite a wall-screen that depicted a luscious garden with some sort of pagan statue in the middle of it. An ornately woven rug was spread out in the center of the room, with a low-set table and several mats for sitting. A trim middle-aged man with graying hair sat on the far side, his legs crossed and his back straight. He rose smoothly to his feet to greet them, shaking Jakob’s hand with both of his.

  “Batano Jirgis,” said the station master, pointing to the man. Jakob nodded and smiled.

  Unlike the station master, Jirgis had sharp features and shrewd, piercing eyes. He stared at Jakob long enough to make him cringe. Instead of looking away, though, Jakob increased his grip and did his best to meet the man’s eyes. If this was the start of their negotiations, he was not going to put himself at a disadvantage.

  “Welcome,” said Jirgis, his accent only slightly less pronounced than the station master’s. “You are starfarer, yes?”

  “That is right,” said Jakob, nodding again. “My ship needs a tune-up, and—”

  “Come, sit,” said Jirgis, motioning to the mats around the table.

  Jakob bit his lip, chiding himself for jumping into the negotiations too eagerly. It seemed that the custom in this place was to take care of personal matters first, business matters second. He would have to remember that in the future.

  He sat down across from his host, to make it easier to look at him while they were talking. This seemed to please the man. Both of them sat on the floor with their legs crossed and their backs straight, hands in their laps. The table was empty except for a bowl of incense, which traced a thin line of smoke up toward the ceiling.

  “How long you stay?” Jirgis asked.

  “Not long,” said Jakob. “When my ship is ready, I can go.”

  “No need go soon,” said the station master. He turned to Jirgis, and the two of them spoke rapidly in Deltan.

  Great, thought Jakob. They’re probably figuring out the best way to screw me over. He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. When that didn’t work, he leaned forward and opened his mouth to speak.

  “I only need—”

  Jirgis clapped his hands. A door hissed open behind him, and a girl walked out carrying a tray with three glasses and a pitcher of white juice.

  The moment she came into view, something about her caught Jakob’s eye. She was almost a full head shorter than him, with a round, pretty face and short black hair that bobbed as she walked. From the self-assured way she carried herself, though, she might as well have been two meters tall. She was certainly attractive, with smooth skin and shapely hips that swayed as she walked. Her eyes met his, and she gave him a smile that was not in the least bit coy.

  She set the tray down on the table and left the way she had come. Without realizing it, Jakob watched her until she was out of the room.

  “You like?” said Jirgis.

  Jakob turned and blinked. “Sorry,” he said, taking up his glass. The juice was thick and syrupy, with an odd smell that made him want to wrinkle his nose, but he took a sip to be polite. To his surprise, it tasted a lot better than he was expecting.

  “That’s quite good,” he said, taking another sip. “What kind of juice is that?”

  The station master chuckled, while Jirgis leaned forward and grinned. “Not drink—girl. My daughter you like?”

  Jakob frowned and set his glass down. “That’s your daughter?”

  “Yes. You like?”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “Um, I guess. She’s very—”

  “No matter,” said Jirgis, waving his hand. “Your ship, what need?”

  “Ah,” said Jakob, letting out a short breath. “Well, the reactor’s been giving me a bit of trouble. A couple of capacitor blocks are faulty—though I don’t think they need to be replaced,” he added quickly.

  Jirgis took a quick sip of his drink and nodded. “Of course, of course. Is frequent problem, we see much. Good fix.”

  “I just unloaded my cargo,” said Jakob, eying the man carefully. “My next stop is Altari, and I don’t want to go without a full hold.”

  The door hissed open again, and the girl came out again. This time, she carried three ornate ceramic bowls and a pot full of steaming hot porridge on her tray. Whatever it was, it smelled good. Jakob realized that it had been almost five hours since he’d last eaten.

  The station master said something in Deltan, and both he and the shipyard director broke into good-natured laughter. The girl set the tray down and put a hand on her hip, looking thoroughly scandalized. She turned to Jakob.

  “Pirvali marat g’dikhar shen?”

  He blinked. “Uh …”

  “She ask if first time you come,” said Jirgis. He leaned forward and began to fill their bowls.

  “First time here? At Delta Oriana?” Jakob asked.

  “Ki, ki,” said the girl. Yes.

  He shrugged noncommittally. “I don’t know. I visit so many stars, it’s hard to keep track of them all.” That wasn’t true, of course, but the last thing he needed was to let on that he was unfamiliar with the system.

  The girl spoke again, too rapidly to follow, and the men burst out laughing. She rolled her eyes and smiled expectantly at Jakob, waiting for his answer.

  “She says, you think will forget?”

  Not at this rate.

  “What’s your name?” Jakob asked instead, trying to change the subject.

  She looked to her father, who translated. “Salome,” she said, pointing to her chest. “Me vard Salome. Shen?”

  “Jakob.”

  The station master nodded and clapped his hands. “Smart boy yes, learn fast very.”

  “Eat!” bellowed Jirgis. Jakob glanced over at him, and the girl left the room again before he could say anything.

  The porridge tasted as delicious as it smelled. They made small talk as they ate, never returning to the subject of the negotiation. Jakob watched the shipyard director carefully, trying to figure out his game. If he was trying to make Jakob squirm a little before tossing out a starting price, it certainly didn’t show on his face.

  “Megiddo Station you like?” he asked.

  “Of course,” said Jakob. “It’s a good place, very comfortable.”

  “You stay my house, how long you want.”

  “Oh, that’s all right—I can just stay on my ship.”

  “No, no,” Jirgis insisted. “Is no problem. You are welcome my house.”

  The station master grinned and made some sideways comment, but Jirgis ignored it. He was getting serious—the negotiations would start soon, no doubt.

  “Well, all right,” said Jakob. “I can stay with you—but it won’t be for too long.”

  “How you want.”

  He cleared his throat. “About the reactor: I saw a replacement at Alpha Oriana going for only half a shipment of elemental silicon. Now, I know the parts are costly, but—”

  Jirgis clapped his hands, and the door hissed open again. This time, Salome carried out a platter of fresh apple crisps. The sugary brown glaze glistened in the light of the glowlamps. They wouldn’t be too expensive on a station this size, but they were still a significant luxury.

  “You welcome my house,” Jirgis repeated, grinning from ear to ear. He spoke to Salome, who nodded as she set the platter on the table and retrieved the bowls and glasses. Her hand brushed Jakob’s, making the hair on his arm stand on end.

  What’s going on?

  “As I was saying,” Jakob continued, �
�I don’t know if you can match the price for the reactor, but—”

  Jirgis waved his hand. “No problem, we fix. When return, you pay.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “You go star Altari, yes?” the station master interjected. “Is no problem. Keep account, you pay later.”

  Jakob frowned. “You mean, you’re letting me off on credit? But the interest—”

  “No interest,” said Jirgis.

  “And the price?”

  He threw his hands up in exasperation. “Price? How much you want? Fifty thousand, twenty thousand, no matter—you ask, we match. Is good, no?”

  Yes, Jakob thought to himself. Too good.

  “What do you want from me?”

  The station master leaned forward, meeting Jakob’s gaze without flinching. The girl stood by the door, but didn’t leave.

  “You star wanderer, yes?”

  “Uh, yeah,” said Jakob.

  “See many stars, meet many woman. But not good to man is alone. You stay now, then return, if no like, okay no problem, but if like …”

  He left the thought unfinished. Jakob glanced from him to Jirgis, looking at first for clarification, then for any sign of guile. He found none of either.

  “You really trust me enough to let me pay on credit?”

  Jirgis smiled. “Of course,” he said. “Is no problem. You come back, come again many time. You welcome my house.”

  I guess so, thought Jakob, helping himself to an apple crisp. It tasted more delicious than anything he’d had in months.

  “You know, I could get used to this place,” he mused aloud to no one in particular. Over by the door, Salome gave him a suggestive smile.

  * * * * *

  The ride to the lower third quadrant always felt longest on paydays where the week’s wages weren’t enough to cover all the bills. Jakob dreaded the long talk that he and Salome were bound to have about it. The rent from their new tenants probably wouldn’t cover the difference, and there were only so many family heirlooms that they had left to pawn.

  He shuffled down the windowless corridor and palmed open the door to his family’s apartment. It wasn’t locked—people in the immigrant quarters never locked their doors. As always, the thick smell of Deltan cooking hit his nose the moment he entered. The air was so humid, it almost felt steamy. Or maybe that was just the contrast with the overly recycled air of the dockyards.

  “Dad!” said Mariya, running up to see him. Her eyes shone with even more excitement than usual. It lifted him in a way that only a few hours ago he hadn’t thought possible.

  “Hello, dear,” he said in Deltan, giving her a hug. She squeezed his waist so hard, he nearly lost his breath.

  “Oof! Watch yourself, Mariya.”

  “Guess what, Dad? You’ll never believe what we found out while you were at work!”

  Jakob frowned. His daughter was so naïve and innocent, it was impossible to tell when her surprises were more bad than good.

  “What is it?”

  Out in the family room, a large crowd had gathered around the couch. The scent in the air wasn’t just from the daily mix of bread and beans—there were spices in there that he hadn’t tasted for years. That blend wasn’t easy to come by here at Alpha Oriana. For some reason that he couldn’t quite articulate, it reminded him of the time he’d first met his wife.

  “You know Jeremiah and Noemi? The new couple we just took in?”

  “Uh, yeah?”

  “Well, we took her to the clinic today, and it turns out—”

  “Which clinic?” Jakob asked as he took off his boots. His hand-sewn slippers waited in their usual spot just before the corridor.

  Mariya rolled her eyes in a dramatic teenage fashion. “Don’t worry, Dad—we went to the economy clinic on level five, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “Right. So the doctor called us in after only ten minutes with her. I thought it would take a little longer, you know? I mean, from what—”

  “Is that her on the couch? Why is everyone crowding around her?”

  “Dad!” said Mariya. She put a hand on her hips in annoyance. “Are you listening to me or not?”

  “Sorry, dear. I’m listening.”

  “Right.” She sighed and rolled her eyes melodramatically, then got right back to the story as if nothing had happened. “Well, it turns out that she’s pregnant, Dad—ten weeks pregnant! Can you believe it? Oh, Aunt Giuli says she suspected it all along, and Noemi wasn’t nearly as surprised as Jeremiah, but Dad—they’re going to have a baby!”

  So that’s what that spice blend is for, Jakob realized. Whenever a couple was expecting, it was traditional to make a special drink of nuts and spices indigenous to the Oriana Cluster, with coconut milk instead of juice. It was only ever drunk to celebrate a pregnancy, so that was why he hadn’t recognized it right away. Now that he did, though, it brought back a whole host of flashbacks.

  “That’s great, dear. Go tell the others I’ll join them once I’ve washed up.”

  “Okay, Dad!”

  Mariya scampered back to the living room even more cheerfully than usual. It was clear that the news had struck a chord in her, probably because she wasn’t much younger than Noemi herself.

  How is this going to change things? Jakob wondered as the shower washed away a dayshift’s worth of sweat and dirt. He closed his eyes and let the lukewarm water run across his face and through his thinning hair. Their new tenants would almost certainly want to stay longer than a couple of weeks, perhaps even for the duration of the pregnancy. Mariya was going to like that—she didn’t have too many friends outside of the immediate family. The extra money, though meager, would certainly be welcome as well. But there would be other adjustments, though, and those would not be so easy.

  To hell with it, Jakob decided. They already had lots of kids in this place—it wasn’t like the changes in routine would catch anyone by surprise. And after all the young couple had been through to get here, giving them a safe, welcoming place to live was the least they could do, even if it became semipermanent. After all, if it were his daughter who was pregnant at a foreign star, that was exactly what he’d want for her.

  Once the drying cycle was complete, he stepped out of the shower unit and dressed in a clean change of clothes. Might as well, if the others were expecting him to join them. He strapped the outdated wrist console on his left wrist and palmed open the door to the main corridor.

  Noemi sat on the big couch in the living room, with the whole extended family from Opa Jirgis down to the youngest grandchild crowded around her. The way she bit her lip, she seemed a bit uncomfortable as the center of attention, but her smile beamed all the same. Jeremiah himself stood behind her, his cheeks pale and an expression of shock on his face. He looked as if he could use a good, stiff drink.

  “Congratulations,” Jakob said, walking right up to Noemi and bending over to kiss her on the cheek. He gave Jeremiah a sly grin. “Caught you a bit by surprise, did it, son?” he added in Gaian.

  “I—a little, yeah,” he admitted.

  “Ten weeks, Mariya tells me. You two must have been busy.”

  His cheeks blushed red, an odd coloration considering how pale the rest of him was.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take you out for a drink later. I know a good rimside place not far from here.”

  Jakob turned back to Noemi and reverted to Deltan. “Your husband seems a bit surprised by the news. Are you?”

  She laughed, giving him his answer. It didn’t surprise him in the least—of all women, Deltans tended to be on top of this sort of thing. There was a hint of nervousness about her, but that was probably because of the way everyone was crowding in and making her the center of attention. Unlike Mariya, she didn’t seem like the kind of girl who liked that sort of thing.

  Jakob smiled and nodded before joining Jeremiah against the back wall. “So what are your plans now?” he asked in Gaian. The others soon resumed their chatter, ignoring the both of the
m.

  Jeremiah gave a weak shrug. “I haven’t figured that out yet. If it’s all right, we’ll stay here for a while.”

  Jakob nodded, folding his arms. “Is rent going to be a problem?”

  “I—I don’t know.”

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out. Just let me know if you need any help finding something, all right?” Preferably before you start to fall behind on payment.

  “Well, of course we’re going to have a housewarming party,” he overheard his mother-in-law say over the din of chatter. “We’ll throw one right away!”

  Jakob’s face darkened. He turned from Jeremiah to the others.

  “What was that?”

  “A traditional housewarming party,” his graying mother-in-law repeated for his benefit. “It’s only right and proper. Since we’re the closest thing to family that either of them has, why shouldn’t we do it?”

  Because we can’t afford things like that, Jakob almost said. One glance at Noemi’s bright and smiling face, however, and he bit his tongue.

  “Shouldn’t we figure out how much it’s going to cost before we start making plans?” he asked, low enough that Noemi couldn’t hear.

  “Why should we wait? Wasn’t today your payday?”

  “We’ll throw such a wonderful party for you,” said Aunt Giuli, taking Noemi’s hand. “It will feel just like home.”

  Jakob’s arms tensed, and his throat started to constrict. “With all due respect,” he muttered under his breath, “I don’t think we can afford it.”

  “Now don’t you be stingy,” his mother-in-law said, wagging her finger. “We may be far from our birth star, but we’ll keep the traditions all the same.”

  But at what cost?

  Before he began to get upset, he took a deep breath and turned to leave the room. His wife, Salome, stood by the doorway, her arms folded across her chest. She frowned in concern, and her eyes reflected the same uncertainty that hung over them all like a comet over a gravity well.

  * * * * *

  “You—you’re what?”

  Salome grinned and patted her stomach in a meaningful way, making Jakob feel as if the floor had fallen out from under him.