‘Stars,’ Oouoh muttered. He grabbed a jar – Yekeni pepper, the label read – and pulled out the stopper. ‘Put out your hand,’ he said. Jane did, and Oouoh sprinkled a tiny dash of rough yellow dust into her palm. ‘Go on. Taste it.’
Jane stared at the hard little clumps. This . . . wasn’t food. She didn’t know what this was. She sniffed it. Her sinuses shot open in response. Timidly, she stuck out her tongue and dabbed up a few of the mysterious grains.
Her mouth exploded, but oh, stars, in such a good way. Everything was hot and sharp, but delicious, too, and smoky and dry and – and like nothing she’d ever tasted. Nothing ever. She licked up the rest, not caring about the pain that came with it. The pain almost made it better, in a weird way. Her eyes watered and her nose cleared. She was the most awake she’d felt in days.
She grabbed another jar. Suddet, it read. ‘Are any of these poisonous?’ she asked.
Oouoh wiggled his neck. ‘To you? No idea. But I know where the med ward is, and you look easy to carry.’
Jane grinned, then poured a bit of the suddet – whatever that was – straight onto her tongue. Different! So different! This one wasn’t hot at all! It was like . . . dammit, she needed words for this. She’d find the words. She’d learn.
Oouoh leaned back against the counter and smoked his pipe as Jane tore through the cupboard. Would she get in trouble for this? Would the cook be mad? She didn’t care. How could she care when there was a whole pantry full of new experiences with names like chokevine and roasting blend and kulli paste? She couldn’t, was the answer. She wanted to taste everything in there. She wanted to do it until her mouth went numb.
She stood in front of the cupboard, jars on the floor around her, palms coated with multicoloured dust. She wasn’t sure if it was the redreed or something she’d swallowed or what, but in that moment, she could feel a bridge stretching between her as she was right then – giggling and gasping in a spaceship kitchen – to her at four years old, sucking algae gunk from her nails in the dark. She felt as though she could reach out to that little girl and pull her through the years. Look, she’d say. Look who you’re gonna be. Look where you’re gonna go.
Jane let out a sob she hadn’t known was there. Oouoh sat up with a start. ‘Oh – oh, what the fuck,’ he said. ‘Shit, let’s get you to the med ward, come on—’
Jane stared at him. ‘What? Why? I’m fine.’
‘Uh, no, you’re . . . your eyes are leaking.’
Jane laughed, which was hard to do while crying. ‘No, no, this’ – she sniffed hard – ‘it’s just tears. It’s okay.’
Oouoh was distraught. ‘What about this is okay?’
‘We do this. Humans do this when – when we’re feeling a lot of things.’
‘You leak?’
‘I guess. I’m okay, really. I’m fine.’
The Laru shifted his jaw back and forth. ‘All right. That’s fucking creepy, but all right.’ He rubbed the length of his neck, smoothing the fur down. ‘What are you feeling? Are you upset?’
‘I don’t know,’ Jane said. ‘This is all . . . it’s just a lot. All of this is a lot.’
Oouoh considered. ‘Is your species . . . I mean, are you okay with touching? Y’know, physical contact?’
Jane nodded, tears still flowing steady.
Oouoh took a step forward and wrapped one of his big arms around her, pulling her close to his chest. He wrapped his neck around her, too, which was strange, but it wasn’t so different from another arm. He squeezed, gently, and Jane hung on tight, more grateful for that weird alien hug than she’d been for anything in a long time.
‘You’re okay now,’ Oouoh said as Jane cried into his fur. ‘You’re okay.’
SIDRA
Tak sat on the floor, leaning against the doorway that led into the core chamber. ‘So,’ she said. ‘This is you.’
‘No,’ Sidra said. ‘This is the core. It’s not me. It’s just where most of my processes are taking place. For the time being, it’s . . . it’s my brain, I guess.’
‘And the rest of your processes are . . .?’
‘Spread throughout the ship. You know how this works.’
‘Right,’ Tak said. ‘Right.’ She shifted her weight, not for the first time. Was she nervous? Afraid? Uncomfortable? Her red-speckled cheeks could’ve been all of the above. ‘It’s a weird thought, knowing we’re . . . walking through you.’
Sidra sighed. ‘You’re walking through the ship. I’m just—’
‘Everywhere. I know. I get it. Are you . . . okay? How is this for you?’
‘This is what I was designed for.’
‘I get that. But is this . . . better?’
Sidra wanted to say yes. There were a lot of reasons to say yes. But even though she could lie now, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. Why? What could possibly be missing? She had Linking access, which was nothing short of blissful. The shuttle was much smaller than the sort of craft she was intended for, but size didn’t matter in the face of cameras, voxes, an outer hull. The low hum of unease she’d been carrying every day since the Wayfarer was gone now. Her pathways were still and clear. This was the configuration she was meant be in, the existence she’d been longing for.
How could this not be better?