Starship Summer (Starship Seasons, #1)(19)

“And the Zexu?” Maddie asked.

Matt smiled. “The Zexu,” he said, “are the most creative race in existence. Every Zexu creates. It’s as if creation produces a drug in their heads, and they can’t help themselves. I’m particularly interested in a new development in Zexuan art at the moment—the art of recreating oneself.”

I stared at him. “How would that work?”

“The Zexuns consider the perfection of the self to be the highest achievement, spiritually. This has lately had an effect on their art. A school of Zexuan artists has been perfecting simulacra of themselves, in order, I suppose, to see themselves as others see them…”

The talk of art, which I listened to with fascination, and Maddie added to from time to time, continued as we moved to the table across the lounge and ate.

As the meal progressed, talk turned to life on Chalcedony, and then Matt dropped his bombshell. “I’ve been here over twenty years now, and lately I’ve been thinking of moving on.”

For a couple of awkward seconds no one knew quite what to say. Then Maddie spoke up, “Leaving Chalcedony?” She sounded stricken.

Matt shrugged. “I need new experiences. I’ve been looking at my work recently. I’m not happy with it.”

“And you think a move might help?” Hawk asked.

“Maybe. I am a bit isolated out here—which is strange for me to say, as the reason I came here in the first place was the desire for isolation.”

Maddie asked in a small voice, “Where will you go?”

“I’ve been thinking of returning to Earth. San Francisco, where I was born. If, that is, I can steel myself for the… how many Telemass relays is it now, David?”

“Four,” I said, “and each one seems to tear you apart and put you back together differently. I’d be loath to make the journey again.” Matt smiled. “I’d survive.”

“We’d miss you Matt,” Maddie said.

He laughed. “I won’t be going for a while yet. Six months, at least.”

“So you are definitely going?” Maddie asked.

“I’m seriously thinking about it,” Matt answered. “I suppose it all depends on the project I’m planning, and whether I consider it successful.”

“What’s that?” Maddie asked.

“Maddie, you should know better than to ask. You know I never talk about future projects.”

Maddie drew a histrionic hand across her brow. “Oh, the fragility of the creative process.”

Matt had the good grace to laugh. We finished the meal and I opened a sweet white wine. We moved to the couches ranged before the viewscreen and watched the sun set and the Ring of Tharssos brighten high above.

We chatted amiably about nothing in particular for a while, the comfortable banter of friends who have known each other for years. Oddly, even though I’d been on the planet for less than a week, I was made to feel part of the group, as if I too had known each of them for years.

At one point I mentioned I was looking for a part-time job—more, I joked, to keep me out of the Fighting Jackeral.

“I don’t see what’s wrong with spending half one’s life in the Jackeral,” Maddie said. “Look at me…”

This was open invitation for Hawk to say, “Yeah, just look. Fair warning, David—get that job or you’ll end up like Maddie.”

“We all have our foibles,” Maddie said primly. “Mine is the steady consumption of alcohol in pleasant company. Just because I don’t share your predilection for pre-pubescent alien girls.”

I looked at Hawk to see how he’d take this. He laughed. “Kee is an adult, Maddie. You know that. And anyway, we don’t have sex.”

Maddie stared at him. “You don’t? You never told me that.”

“I don’t tell you everything I don’t do, Maddie.” He shrugged. “Our relationship is platonic. It’s more like… I suppose like having a daughter.”

“But you told me you loved her?” Maddie said.

Hawk said, “So? You can love someone like a daughter, even if she isn’t technically your daughter.”

I looked at Maddie, wondering if her condition, her physical isolation, had over the years worked to deaden her empathy.

She said to me, “Do you understand that, David?”

I looked past her, to the holocube of the laughing blonde girl. I was overcome, suddenly, by the recollection of the love I had felt for my daughter. I nodded. “Of course. We can love anyone. If we can love someone, without physical intimacy, then isn’t that something to be cherished?”

In the quick ensuing silence I caught the bitter look on Maddie’s face as she stared across at Hawk, who was self-consciously gazing through the viewscreen at the Ring.

Matt broke the uneasy silence. “David, you said you were looking for work. What were you thinking of?”

I shrugged. “Something that’d keep me active for a couple of days a week. Nothing too stressful.”

“How about some courier work? The company I used went bust recently—they delivered my work materials once a week from MacIntyre and took my completed work back to the Telemass Station.”

So it’d be two days a week, a couple of trips down the coast to the capital. They charged me a couple of hundred a week. I’ll match that, if you’re interested.”