Chapter 7 #2
The other two women shuffled to the side, allowing her sister to push a wheelchair to the front. Emry gestured broadly with both hands, silently announcing that Gemma’s carriage awaited.
“Are there coffee and bagels on this tour?” Gemma asked. The apartment’s fridge was bare, and she had already lamented her struggle with the coffeemaker.
“We can do that,” Mercy answered.
Gemma settled into the chair and got a quick tutorial on how to use the motorized controls. Pressing a lever, the chair rolled forward and then backward. “I’m going to abuse this,” she said in a mock-whisper, earning a snicker from Emry.
Mercy glanced down at Gemma’s feet. “Don’t you have shoes?”
“Just the slipper socks the hospital gave me.”
Surprise and understanding flickered across Mercy’s face before finally settling back to an amiable smile. “Well then, supply and requisition will be a priority. Now, some facts about the Judgment—”
Mercy led the entire convoy down the corridor at an easy pace. Emry stayed close but gave Gemma enough space as she figured out how to maneuver in the chair.
“Someone told her about me but no one told her about me,” Gemma said, her voice soft to keep the conversation between her and Emry.
“Maybe she gets a list of new arrivals but no details,” her sister replied.
“Makes sense.” Gemma could see the necessity of a new arrival orientation, and frankly, having a human face to welcome her aboard was comforting. She twisted in the chair to get a better look at her sister. “Let’s talk about what you’re wearing. Oh, my heavens, Emry. I’m so embarrassed.”
Emry looked down and gestured at her plain black tee shirt and black leggings. “What? You’re wearing the same thing.”
“We’re twinning in the same outfit. I’m dying inside. My individuality is being crushed.”
“Hush,” Emry said, smiling.
One of the slabs of muscle, a large man with equally large horns, glanced back at them. He pressed a finger to his lips in a shushing motion.
Gemma held up her hands to silently apologize. Placated, the man’s attention switched back to Mercy as she narrated the tour.
Gemma gestured for Emry to lean down. When she did, Gemma whispered, “Crushed.”
Emry giggled and suddenly Zalis’ disappearing act didn’t seem so insurmountable.
“The Judgment’s primary function is a warship, but we’ve been adding comforts.
When I arrived, it was very stark. Now, most of the facilities and services you’ll need are on this level,” Mercy said, continuing the tour.
“There’s a café, a beauty salon, a spa, and a tailor. We even have an art studio now.
“There’s a nursery, of course, a daycare. Classrooms are on another level. Mahdfel children grow fast, and I want to keep them close as long as possible, before they go to the Academy.”
If pressed, Gemma would reluctantly admit that her eyes glazed over when it came to baby talk. Making the next generation of Mahdfel warriors was the point, after all, but she just didn’t want to know the details about the education system.
“If there’s a service or, umm, therapy that you need, we can make it happen.
Just ask, and don’t worry about cost. Most services, classes, and items are free.
If there is a cost, it will be deducted from your allowance.
It’s a generous one. I don’t think anyone’s ever spent it all on lattes.
And we have plenty of space to open new ventures, if that tickles your fancy. ”
It did tickle Gemma’s fancy, actually. Her ears perked at the mention of available shopfront space. “What kind of space? Strictly retail, or does it have a kitchen?”
“Right now, the spaces are literally empty rooms. We can put in a professional kitchen if that’s what you want,” Mercy answered. “Is that something you want?”
“A little bakery in space?” The novelty of the idea really appealed to her. “I still have to figure out what to do with my bakery on Earth.”
“Well, keep it in mind. Security is our first stop. We’ll register your ID chips with the computers and get you all set up.”
They met with a stern-faced man who lectured them about the different levels of clearance. Certain zones were always restricted, like Engineering. Do not try to gain access. Do not try to bribe an inexperienced warrior with fresh cookies. They had been briefed and would not fall for that again.
An oddly specific example, but Gemma could see the necessity. Some places were dangerous and a tourist wandering around was a tragedy waiting to happen.
One by one, their retinas were scanned and thumbs pricked.
“I’ll be able to make coffee now?” Gemma asked, rubbing the sting in her thumb from the implanted chip.
“All appliances will respond to your commands. You can access basic ship functions like environmental controls. You have unlimited access to the communication and entertainment networks,” the security chief said, then launched into an explanation on accessing those networks.
The next stop was the mess hall for the promised coffee and bagels.
They were surprisingly decent. Not great, but Gemma was so hungry she devoured two before contemplating their culinary merits.
While Gemma ate, Mercy explained that when she arrived, the food was all freeze-dried or from the reconstructor.
While what came out of the reconstructor was technically food -grade and edible, it tasted like nothing.
The machines were fine making ingredients, just not anything complex.
“It can do a potato, not mashed potatoes,” she explained. “Now we have real food prepared by real cooks, in a variety of cuisines. Dannel is expanding the Earth menu all the time. If there’s something you’d like, feel free to request.”
Did the twins get nosy about the kitchen? Of course. Coffee and bagels also gave them time to get nosy about the other new arrivals: Faith from Earth and Brenlee from Sangrin. Both volunteers.
In Medical, a human woman named Daisy explained how to schedule an appointment and that the reconstructors could generate common over-the-counter medications. She also informed Gemma that she had a regenerative therapy appointment for her ankle.
“It’s goo. We want you to soak your foot in goo for an hour,” Daisy explained. Gemma must have looked skeptical because she added, “Your bones will heal faster. Honest.”
Next, they swung by one of the gardens. This one was an herb and vegetable garden for the kitchen with neat hydroponic rows and raised beds.
Not exactly an ornamental garden, but the high ceiling and clever overhead lighting felt like an open sky instead of a greenhouse.
Gemma could see the appeal of sitting on a bench to soak up some vitamin D.
Requisition was their final stop. Each new arrival had a basket filled with basic hygiene items, a coffee mug, a bag of real coffee, and, most importantly, an assortment of chocolate bars, including her favorite with peanuts and caramel.
Gemma didn’t hesitate to tear into the candy bar. Emry gave her a look like she was being rude, but Gemma shrugged, unashamed. Her captors fed her kibble. She was going to enjoy candy without guilt.
“You’d be surprised how many people arrive without the basics,” Mercy said.
“I was so flustered that I forgot toothpaste,” Faith said.
“I forgot to pack combs,” Brenlee said with a smile. She gestured to her hair, which was currently piled on top of her head between her horns. “My hair looks like a bird’s nest.”
“It suits you. Messy-chic is very stylish,” Emry said.
Who was this? Not her Emry who kept her hair back in a ponytail and refused to wear anything but tank tops under her chef’s coat.
“What?” Emry asked, but her confrontational tone made it clear that it wasn’t a question. “I’m practical, but that doesn’t mean I can’t admire the pretties.”
Gemma held up her hands in surrender. Her sister was allowed to admire pretty things.
The clothing selection was disappointingly limited, not that Gemma expected the latest fashions.
Her choices were leggings, tops with both long sleeves and short sleeves, and the most functional underwear she had ever seen.
She could have them all in any color she pleased, as long as it was black, gray, or navy.
“There’s plenty of good shopping at Sangrin Station,” Mercy explained, perhaps sensing Gemma’s disappointment as she scrolled through the selections.
“This is good. I need some basics.” Gemma needed everything and wasn’t so picky that she’d turn down fresh, well, anything. She’d worn the same filthy clothes for weeks. Being clean was something she’d never take for granted again.
One problem: there were no prices. She had money on Earth.
In theory, she could access her bank account.
All Earth banks were supposed to be part of an intergalactic network now.
She never bothered before and the idea of setting that up exhausted her.
The day had been very busy with lots of new faces and new information to learn, and she just wanted to watch one of those baking competitions where everyone was nice and the worst thing to happen was a soggy bottom.
“How much is this?” she whispered to Emry.
“It’s free. I think everything we can order on the ship is free,” Emry whispered back.
“No. Get out.”
“And we get an allowance. No one told me that. Apparently, I’ve been loaded this whole time.”