Collision Course (Class 5, #6)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

“I’ll walk with you to the launch bay.” Hri Revil put the last of her equipment away and turned back to face Rose.

Dav had left toward the end of the consultation, called to the bridge to check out some strange readings the scanners were picking up, and the two of them were alone.

When the check up had shown everything was more than fine, Dav had been happy to leave early. Rose considered staying onboard for a bit, but she really just wanted to get back home.

She touched the necklace she always wore when she was onboard the Barrist , and slid off the examination table. “I’d like the company.”

Hri noticed her hand on the necklace, and came closer to examine it. “I meant to ask you if we might need one for your baby,” she said. “I’m ashamed we never questioned that the Barrist’s air wasn’t ideal for you.”

Rose shook her head. “It is so close to ideal, even I didn’t really notice it. It was only when Ellie entered her first Grihan ship and the necklace Pax made for her still needed to do a bit of work that it occurred to any of us. Pax made one for me, Fiona, Imogen and Lucy, and he also made one for the baby. It’s really cute.”

“That’s good.” Hri made a note on her device. “A necklace isn’t as intrusive as the methods we have available, especially for a newborn.”

“And maybe she won’t need it, anyway.” Rose stepped out into the passageway. “She could take after her father instead of me on that front.”

“True.” Hri walked beside her. “But having the necklace gives me one less thing to worry about, as your doctor.”

“It’s a weight off,” Rose agreed. “You’re going this way because you’re visiting Gyppal?”

Gyp was one of the first Grih Rose had ever met. He’d been about ten months old at the time, and now that he was nearing two years old, he was still one of her favorite people.

“Yes, you want to come in and say hello?”

“Yes.”

“Will you put the baby in the children’s area after she’s born?” Hri asked as they checked in.

“Not immediately, but yes. How else will she make friends?”

“That’s important.” Hri spoke cautiously. She didn’t elaborate, but Rose had the suspicion she wanted to warn Rose that not all of the parents aboard the Barrist would be thrilled with having a half-human playing with their children.

The Barrist was an explorer—a massive vessel that searched Grihan airspace as well as the uncharted territory at their borders for new life forms and planets. It was necessary for families to be accommodated, as they could be traveling for months at a time.

“Some might object?” she asked, as they stood outside the children’s play area, looking in through the large window. She’d rather know the issues in advance.

Hri started to shake her head, then paused. “Maybe one or two. But I have to admit that the ones who are opposed are not well liked as it is, and their grumbles have quieted in the last few months.”

All right. She could handle that.

She knew it was useless to hope that Sazo hadn’t heard those grumbles. He most definitely would have.

Dav didn’t like it, but Sazo had had the run of the Barrist’s systems for a long time.

Rose was fine with it, personally. If these people meant her and her child harm, Sazo would warn her.

She mulled the feeling of vengeance that rose up in her, and then calmed a little. Decided to talk to Sazo when she got back to the Class 5. They could strategize on how to deal with resistance to her baby’s integration into Grih society in a way that didn’t involve murder or bloodshed.

She didn’t want everyone onboard to be walking on eggshells in fear of Sazo’s wrath. That would be just as damaging as overt hostility.

Hri stopped in front of the bright blue door, the entrance to the play area, and Rose stopped with her.

“Do they mind me coming in to say hello to my favorite boy?”

Hri grinned. “No. Your visits are a highlight.” She tapped in the code and the doors opened onto joyful chaos.

Children ran around, playing and shouting. A few sat drawing or reading, and another group lay on comfortable cushions having a story read to them.

“Mom. Rose.” Gyppal ran toward them, leapt for his mother, then threw himself at Rose.

She caught him easily, swung him around and set him down.

“Song?” he asked her.

“Sure.” She resisted requests for singing from most adults, but she always accommodated the children.

They had all turned at Gyppal’s shout, and one of the teachers waved her toward a larger cushion.

Rose realized they had a routine now as far as she was concerned. It made her feel a quick buzz of warmth.

The children ranged in age from newborns to five years old, so she had a wide range of tastes to try and please.

“Same rules as last time?” she asked the crowd that had come to sit at her feet.

They all nodded enthusiastically.

The rule was two songs. One new song each time, one song they could decide among themselves.

She wracked her brains for a new song, came up with an old Carpenters song she thought they might like. They did—their eyes were big and bright at the end of it.

“All right. What’s song number two going to be?” She had sung the same song the last five visits in a row. Would it finally drop off as number one on the charts, or would it hold?

The kids huddled together discussing things, then finally turned back. The designated requester this time was a little girl around four years old.

“Daydream,” she called out, lifting her hands above her head in excitement.

Well, well, well. Daydream Believer by The Monkees lived to top the charts another day.

“You hear that, Sazo?” she murmured.

He showed her he had by playing the song intro, something they’d been working on since the song had become such a hit.

She started to sing, and the children looked upward to the speakers in delight. When she reached the chorus, the music swelled, and she harmonized with the recording she had made of herself.

When she was done, and Sazo faded the music out, there was a moment of silence and then the ululations started. She laughed, then rocked herself out of the low cushion.

“Now you’ve done it,” Hri said, helping her to her feet. “That song’s never not going to be the favorite now.”

“The rules are the rules,” Rose said with a grin. “I’ll be off. Thanks for the check up, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She left to warm goodbyes from children and teachers alike, and when she stepped out into the passageway, she was still smiling.

“You are keeping them onside,” Sazo said into her earpiece. “For when the baby is born.”

She pondered his words. “It’s not quite as transactional as that,” she finally said as she opened the door into the launch bay and headed for the small ship they used to go between the Barrist and Sazo’s Class 5.

“You like doing it, as well.” Sazo was thoughtful.

“I do like doing it. And it’s one place where I don’t worry about whether people are being friendly because they have to be, or because they actually like me. Children are more honest.”

She stepped into the ship and lowered herself carefully into one of the chairs and put a request through to Dav’s comm.

“Where are you?” He sounded distracted.

“About to go back home. Will you be a while?” she asked.

“Yes. There’s some strange interference we’re picking up coming from a nearby system, so we’re just looking into that.”

“That could be what we’re looking for,” she said, and felt a quick spike of excitement.

“Maybe.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.” She cut off the comm, sighed, and leaned back in her seat. “What are you picking up?” she asked Sazo.

“The same thing,” he told her as he piloted the craft through the launch bay and out through the gel wall. “It’s indistinct and it could be nothing.”

“So I shouldn’t get my hopes up,” she said, looking out the window at the Class 5 looming up ahead.

“More or less.”

They were halfway across, so she could see the Barrist on one side, the Class 5 on the other, when a liquid silver ship seemed to pop out of nowhere in front of her.

She caught a glimpse of clamps in her periphery, felt the little explorer ship shudder, and then suddenly it—with her inside it—were whisked away.