EeSuJhun carefully drove the device into the plant’s soil pod. The business end of the device was small and
rectangular, no longer than her hand and no wider than her finger, and was
colored the same metallic grey as her skin.
A fine gridwork covered the tip of the device. She gripped the handle tightly and squeezed
one of the buttons and waited.
She
didn’t have to wait long. A series of
small popping, squealing sounds erupted from the soil, followed by a few thin
wisps of smoke. She let out a yelping
laugh of triumph and pulled the wand out of the soil as carefully as she had
inserted it, gratified at the scorch marks along the side. Hmmm,
didn’t take the carbonization into account.
It shouldn’t affect the quality, at least not yet. I can clean it – can I make it
self-cleaning? Maybe a neutralizing
pulse to shed the ash – I’m wasting good carbon here, carbon that these little
beauties will love. She continued to
work out minutiae of a self-cleaning function as she worked the soil with the
wand methodically in a pattern that was sure to clear out all but the luckiest
of grubs.
So
engrossed in her work was she that she didn’t notice the sleek reptilian figure
move up behind her. Nor did she note
when it snapped its beaked jaws quietly a few times, trying to call for
attention. She did notice the gentle
pressure as it placed one of its long-fingered hands on her shoulder. Without looking away from her work, she
asked, “Oya?”
“MiSanTu,
Structural Engineer Third Class, I have found your missing ID.”
EeSuJhun
frowned and scoffed as she continued to work.
“Not me. EeSuJhun, Botanical
Technician. Second Class, if you please.
Don’t know MiSanTu. Sorry.”
There
was a pause. Hopefully it’s gone. Can’t it
see that I’m working here? She
harrumphed dismissively as she carefully maneuvered the wand around the plant’s
delicate root structure.
There
was another clacking behind her, and then a shadow fell across her face. She looked up to see what was blocking her
light, and saw the crested, beaked head of a Vislin, dressed in an unassuming
harness. Vislin, client race of the Great Family. Good visual artists Cowards.
That was about the limit of her knowledge of and interest in the
Vislin. Zig didn’t really tend to care
much about other species – they weren’t Zig, so they were mentally inferior and
thus uninteresting.
Its crest is pretty, though, she mused, watching it
refract the white station light in a cascade of muted, scintillating
colors. Vislin crests – has anyone ever tried using one for lighting? I know their skin can do odd things with
visible bands – must look it up when I’m back at my quarters. She went back to focusing on the soil pod,
and tried shifting a bit for better lighting.
It
wasn’t happening. The Vislin was
squarely in the way of the illumination.
Hmmm, might be useful to have a
hat made of their crest material, or an analogue. Something that would let me see details if
this happens again. Spotlight would be
too bright, maybe refraction would be a better trick. EeSuJhun, annoyed, reflected again that it
would have to wait until she was off duty – which could be a lot longer if this
Dearthing lizard didn’t leave her alone.
“EeSuJhun,
I am aware of you. I know that you are
not MiSanTu. Nevertheless, I have his
ID.”
“What,
just because we’re both Zig, you think we know each other?” Scoff, grunt.
“It’s not like we’re Tesetsi.
Know how many Zig work on this station?”
“I am
under no illusions that you know one another.
As a matter of fact, I rather hoped that you didn’t.”
What the Dearth was this thing getting at? Scoff.
“I’m busy.”
“I can
see that.”
“Then
why don’t you leave me alone?”
“Are
you familiar with Ta-trisk bulbs?”
That got her attention. Ta-trisk bulbs were amazing! A Tesetsi creation, of course, they were
plant bulbs with programmable genetics.
You didn’t need a lab to make them grow into just about any sort of
plant that you pleased. Just apply the
right kind of light, soil composition, gravity and environment and the
possibilities were almost limitless. Of
course, they were expensive. So
expensive that she knew that she’d probably never be able to afford one. She sat back on the ground, cross-legged, and
looked up at her suddenly interesting intruder.
“Yeah, I know Ta-trisk bulbs.”
The
Vislin cocked its head to one side and focused its large, reddish-black eyes
directly on hers. “I have three in
stasis on my person. Are you interesting
in receiving them?”
Snort. “Of course I am! I know I can’t afford one, and you’re trying
to push someone else’s ID on me. So you
want me to do something stupid with someone else’s ID. I get that.
I’m Zig, remember?” She grasped
both sides of her shaven head with her hands.
“Smart. Probably smarter than you
and your mother.”
The
Vislin made no sign of taking offense, but their kind was not given to obvious
displays of emotion. “I am pleased that
you grasp the situation. All I ask is
for you to go to a particular stateroom and perform a structural examination of
the wall, using the ID and a device that I will provide for you.”
“Yeah,
getting caught’s not worth it.” They
took away anything that you could work on or with in the brig. That was the very definition of Dearth to a
Zig. She snarled quietly with distaste.
“Is it
worth three Ta-trisk bulbs? One such
would be outside of the pay grade of a Botany Engineer of any Class, unless you happened upon an injured Thrathumm.” Seeing EeSuJhun’s look of confusion, it
clarified: “An unexpected fortune, such as I am offering.”
Snort. “Find another patsy. Station monitors will catch me. Not worth it.”
The
Vislin raised its beak slightly and stroked the side of its face. “I would have thought you had some computer skills. It wouldn’t take much to redirect the
cameras. I didn’t imagine that a simple
feat of engineering like that would be outside of your reach.”
Harrumph. “I’m Iron Caste, scaly, have been since I
came of age. You obviously don’t know
much about Zig, so let me enlighten you: Irons make things work. Not people, not ideas, things. Show me an Iron
Caste that doesn’t know how to make a computer work and I’ll show you a
hairless human slathered in metal paint.
I could make a couple of hallway cams get dressed up and dance if
I wanted. If I wanted. I want the
bulbs, but I’m no idiot. I have no
reason to trust you. I don’t know you
from AaMaTah, and I don’t want to
know you. So take your bulbs and your
stolen ID and go find some Hrotata ass to kiss or whatever it is you do in your
spare time. And get the Dearth out of my
light, I’m BUSY!” Snort.
The
Vislin held still through her tirade, and then leaned down towards her, its
crested head and razor sharp beak filling her field of vision. “Very well, EeSuJhun. Farewell.”
There was something deeply uncomfortable about the way that it stared at
her for a long moment before it straightened up and moved out of her
light. She heard it slink away,
shuddered, and went back to her gardening.
No wonder they’re still a slave
race. Client race. Whatever.
Idiots.
A few
moments later she was distracted again from her reverie by hearing a hollow
voice call out from behind her, “What’s this I hear about Ta-trisk bulbs?”
That’s it!
I swear, whoever that is... She grunted in frustration and spun
around. “I’M TRYING TO …” She trailed off as she saw the Vislin
directly behind her, clutching what looked like a thin wire between its
hands. The wire was wrapped tightly
around its palms and gripped in its clawed fingers, and was positioned right
above where her head had been just a second ago.
The
voice had come not from the Vislin, but from a small, white, somewhat
Zig-shaped figure. Its joints were
grooved and obviously mechanical and its face had large, black, slanted eyes, a
tiny suggestion of a nose, and a small mouth frozen in a perpetual enigmatic
grin. The Ningyo was standing not far
from the entrance to the nursery.
“work…”
EeSuJhun trailed off. A tiny mewl of
distress escaped her throat.
The
tableau remained frozen for the span of a couple of very tense heartbeats, and
in a swirl the Vislin dropped to all fours and skittered smoothly away, past
the Ningyo and out the door, its skin changing color to match the floor
below. EeSuJhun swallowed and rubbed her
throat, her eyes flickering between the Ningyo and the door that her would-be
assailant had just scrambled out of.
The
Ningyo trotted forward to within a meter or so of her and gave a salute. Its
voice was hollow and sounded pre-recorded, and there was a mocking quality to
its tone. “I’m Tacky, and let me guess… you… you must be… welcome!”