Chapter 15
Eventually, Zen joined them on the Destitute.
Considering a draic’s physical size and stature, this shifted the living area from cozy to cramped.
Zen delicately perched on the edge of the couch beside Dutch, listening to the plan.
After she’d finished summarizing, he leaned back and said, “Sounds good.”
“You don’t seem surprised.” Torian raised an eyebrow.
Zen shrugged. “We discussed it on the flight here. I’d never been to Vaesa, but when we docked to look for Dutch’s ship, I knew that space station wasn’t something we’d just … leave. After you mentioned your sister’s breathing issues, it made sense we’d include you both in the repairs.”
“That’s because my partner is brilliant.” Dutch’s fingers trailed along Zen’s arm. The draic’s scales shifted into a warmer hue, as if he were blushing. It was cute—a really nice moment.
At least until Moss intoned: “He is not more brilliant than me. I am the supercomputer.”
“And super, you are,” Dutch said.
“Do not patronize me.”
Zen interrupted them, holding up a hand.
“Regardless, this is a good path for everyone. Vaesa is a galactic landmark, and I don’t think anyone realized how far into disrepair it’s fallen.
At this point, it’s our duty to help repair it.
” He pushed to his clawed feet, shaking his wings a bit.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m relocating outside.
It’s awfully tight in here.” With a wave, he started for the cargo bay doors.
Torian hesitated. This felt too easy. Draics were longer-lived than humans, sure, but this was a years-long commitment. Dutch had mentioned Zen worked for the draic military—she found it hard to believe he could just drop everything for decades to help restore an old space station.
She followed Zen onto the Rhymarran dock. “You really don’t have anywhere better to be?”
Zen shrugged one thick shoulder. “Ships are cramped. That station had a nice temperature and room to fly. I wouldn’t mind stretching my wings for a bit.
” For emphasis, he unfurled his wings. Now that she could admire them properly, she realized they were easily the span of five times her height.
They looked paper-thin, almost translucent, and folded up so well that she hadn’t realized how large they truly were.
Zen stared longingly at the Rhymarran sky, but he must have realized that a draic soaring over Terra Nova University might be perceived as an act of war.
He sighed and folded his wings again, letting them hook over his shoulders like a cape.
“Regardless, it will give my crew something to do. We like to stay busy.”
“I guess I figured you’d have … um, draic business. Or something.” It sounded stupid even as Torian said it. She almost brought up their empress, almost pried for more information on their culture, but couldn’t bring herself to ask. A part of her was still nervous around Zen.
He grinned, his fangs glinting in the setting sun. “Luckily, deployment into ‘draic business’ is optional.”
Torian snorted.
Dutch finished saying goodbye to Moss, even as he tucked second-Moss and its clear container under one arm.
He stepped down the short ramp, strolling to Zen with practiced familiarity.
“Shall we, puatic? Lots to do. Plant Moss across the central dome, find envirosuits for our journeys into the auxiliary domes, rewire the current life support system to allow organic access—”
“And wait for Nasra, remember?” Zen said, smoothly interrupting him. At Dutch’s perplexed expression, Zen sighed. “The tou’siil? She’s been the CSS point of contact in this solar system for decades.”
“Whyever would the CSS care about this?” Dutch flapped a hand.
“Why would they care that their predecessors’ prized space station might crash into Verdaan in a few centuries? Hmm. I wonder.” Zen chuckled. “Not that it matters—Nasra is fascinated with nylarian culture. The minute I pitched visiting Vaesa, she took a sabbatical.”
Then Zen had mentioned Nasra, back on Vaesa.
Torian couldn’t believe her luck that he’d know a tou’siil well enough to call in a favor—but then again, tou’siil emissaries were rare, and Zen was part of the draic military and a member of the CSS.
Perhaps all aliens visiting this solar system knew each other.
“I met Nasra,” Torian blurted, excited to be a part of the group—even just for a moment. (And, yeah, she was also excited that a tou’siil gave her the time of day.) “Outside the headmaster’s office.”
Zen lifted his chin in approval. “Oh?”
“He said she’s a student here.” Torian fumbled for something to say.
“She—she wanted to get dinner. I totally forgot.” Her eyes flashed to the setting sun, which cast deep shadows over the land.
The sky was a stunning orange-purple, although there weren’t clouds to shift color today.
It was definitely too late for food, and guilt churned in Torian’s chest.
Zen waved a clawed hand, unconcerned by that. “She’s—”
“Coming!” a bright voice gasped. The shadows had hidden a figure crossing the docks, but there was no mistaking her form now.
Lamps powered by solar energy were secured to evenly spaced wooden posts, and they flicked on as she jogged toward them, casting her in soft yellow light.
Nasra skidded to a halt at the Destitute, drawing deep breaths.
“By the Book, why does anyone run when they can swim? Awful.”
She dropped a bag at her feet. A big bag. Torian squinted at it.
“My darling, you have gills—which is a very rare attribute for a spacefaring species,” Dutch said amicably.
Nasra glanced at him and gasped, her galaxy eyes sparkling with infinite lights. It was almost dizzying in the darkness. With little prelude, she latched on to Dutch’s arm, swiveling toward Zen. “Ah, Zenthielutos! Your partner actually is a nylarian!”
“Did you doubt me?” Zen rumbled.
Nasra laughed. “I would never doubt you … much.”
Dutch absorbed her affection with ease, offering a dazzling smile. He seemed to preen under the attention. “I’m evidence, my dear. The very last nylarian!”
It was the same line he’d given Torian on Vaesa. He must get that statement a lot, outside of the human solar system. Torian ducked her head to hide her laughter.
Nasra, meanwhile, had paused, tilting her head. “Oh, we know of you—that’s why I was skeptical that Zen would actually date the infamous Sequelta vel Dutch-Ath. You’re quite the rebel. The CSS still has an active warrant for you after that intergalactic delinquency.”
“Which one?” Dutch asked good-naturedly.
“Yarlo. False godhood. Which one are you remembering?” She extracted herself from his arm, obviously eager for the knowledge.
Zen held up a hand. “Don’t get him started.
Long life, and he’s lived it. The point is, my transmission was genuine.
And in that vein, say hello to Captain Torian Razner.
She’ll be joining us on this venture.” He gestured at Torian.
“Torian, were you officially introduced to Nasra Sal’zirettex, or did she simply ambush you for information? ”
“I introduced myself!” Nasra stopped talking abruptly, her eyes sparkling again. She let out a nervous laugh. “Oh. Apparently, it was a poor introduction. They’ve added it to the Book. Mildly embarrassing.”
Torian couldn’t contain her laugh this time.
Nasra, meanwhile, dipped into an ornate bow, where her tail twisted in front of her, her fins spread along her legs, and her hands fluttered.
“Captain Razner, a pleasure! I am Nasra Sal’zirettex, the tou’siil emissary of this solar system.
Currently, my focus of study is human sociology and psychology, although I dabble in nylarian history. ”
“Thank the kerracs, because I don’t remember any of it,” Dutch said in relief.
Zen kept a steady presence by Torian’s side, which was oddly comforting.
Despite his intimidating appearance, the draic exuded calm kindness, almost as if he knew she’d need a handhold as her entire world upturned.
“You’re aware of the tou’siil and their hive mind, correct?
Whenever her eyes shine, you can assume thousands of tou’siil are watching from their home planet.
You can always ask her to disconnect if that makes you uncomfortable. ”
A draic, concerned for a human’s comfort. She’d misjudged him in a big way yesterday. She forced a chuckle, waving his suggestion off. “It’s fine! I don’t mind.” Last thing she wanted was for an entire planet of tou’siil to think humans were prudes.
Although they might have already gathered as much.
Nasra’s eyes were sparkling again, and she bounced on her webbed feet. “Everyone watching planet-side sends their thanks—we’re so bored at home.”
“Bored?” Torian couldn’t fathom how any hive mind could be boring.
The tou’siil huffed. “Well, yes. There’s not much to do there. We solved every planetary problem, and explored everywhere we could. That’s why they send out tou’siil emissaries like me to report on other species and cultures. We gather education, and it’s recorded in the Book.”
“I’m so sorry if this is a ridiculous question but … is it a physical book?”
Nasra’s sparkling eyes glazed, and she giggled. “I know. I know. But humans are so disconnected—you have to remember—”
“Nasra,” Zen said politely.
She blinked, and the flashing lights in her eyes were gone. “Apologies. Gets loud sometimes. It is, in fact, a physical book! There’s a cavern around the core of our planet, and the Book fills every crevice of it. New pages are recorded in our cities and delivered to it daily.”
That was why the tou’siil were admired and nearly revered by humanity. They possessed the largest, most comprehensive collection of knowledge in the galaxy—and their entire species was dedicated to accessing and preserving that information. Human AIs were a joke in comparison.
Torian couldn’t believe she was standing in Nasra’s vicinity.
She fumbled for a response, and settled on a very intelligent: “Wow! That’s incredible.”
“I suppose.” Nasra retrieved the big bag at her feet, shouldering it again.
Her eyes went flat, disconnecting briefly.
“Okay, Zen. I took the sabbatical—and Headmaster Nuun was not pleased. While we’re always happy to chat with Sequelta vel Dutch-Ath—” She grinned at Dutch, who winked back.
“—tell me the truth. Are we truly visiting Vaesa?”
“Not just visiting. We’re going to restore it to its former state,” Zen said ever so casually, like they weren’t discussing a massive undertaking, like he wasn’t presenting a barely workshopped idea to one of the smartest beings in the galaxy.
Nasra squealed. Actually squealed.
“Depths and beyond, you’d better not be joking!”
Alarm bells were going off in Torian’s mind, and she raised a hand. When Zen gestured at her to speak, she tentatively asked, “If the CSS values Vaesa so much, why didn’t someone come and repair it earlier?”
What she wanted to ask was: What’s the likelihood of the Confederation of Spacefaring Species stealing Vaesa from Celise and me?
But Nasra gasped at the very idea. “We would never. The CSS respects every species’ right to their birth planet and subsequent outstations.
Vaesa was a wonder, but that was generations ago.
The nylarians didn’t give permission to alter or maintain it, so we respected that boundary and left Verdaan and Vaesa alone.
But now that we’ve finally found you, Dutch…
” Nasra gripped his arm again, trailing off.
“I heartily give permission to visit Vaesa and document what you find. Frankly, the humans who start a colony there could likely use the support.” Dutch cast an exasperated glance at the brick buildings beyond the landing dock.
“We all know the Rhymarrans won’t help.” He squinted in the encroaching darkness.
“In fact, I think one is coming now to tell us off.”
Sure enough, a solitary figure was approaching them. They had the stature of Dess, the person who’d greeted Torian earlier, but in the low light, it was hard to tell.
Nasra seemed unconcerned. “Humans don’t see aliens often, and they’re usually draics when they do. They’re nervous around us.” She waved cheerfully at the approaching figure, then turned to Zen and Torian. “So. Where do I put my things?”
There was something very satisfying about knowing Nasra was abandoning the University to help her, instead. In fact, Torian almost hoped this figure was Dess, just so she could see the look on their face when she whisked their tou’siil student away.
Zen, meanwhile, gestured at his starship on the landing pad beside theirs.
“You’ll be traveling on my ship. Not a lot of room on Torian’s.
She’s retrieving her sister, and then she’ll meet us there.
” He took Nasra’s bag, shouldering it with ease.
His wings spread to make room, and it made him look like a vengeful gargoyle in the dim light.
The person approaching them faltered.
“Probably time to leave anyway,” Torian muttered. “Good riddance.”
Dutch clapped her shoulder. “You’re too good for Rhymarra, Captain Razner. You’ll waste away here.” With a cheerful smile, he followed Zen to the other starship, his container of Moss tucked protectively under one arm.
Nasra briefly clasped Torian’s hands. “I cannot wait for that dinner.” And then she was gone, jogging after Zen and Dutch, her voice bouncy as she reconnected with the hive: “You all will not believe this—”
Just like that, Torian was alone again.
She drew a slow breath. The university official had pivoted from the aliens, approaching Torian’s ship instead—and as she got closer, Torian could indeed recognize Dess Philona’s stiff expression.
She had nothing left to say to Dess, or Headmaster Nuun, or anyone on this planet. Without waiting to be told off, Torian stepped back inside the Destitute and closed the cargo doors behind her.
Time to pursue a new goal.