The Galaxy, and the Ground Within (Wayfarers #4)(75)
Speaker pondered. ‘Are you aware that my legs aren’t typical for my species?’
‘I … wasn’t, actually. Sorry.’
‘Don’t be. That’s why I asked. It’s a genetic condition. I have limited use of them, compared to Akaraks who are built otherwise.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry.’
‘Again: don’t be. I’m not.’ Speaker shifted her weight and clicked her beak. ‘Two standards ago, Tracker and I were at a market stop. She was having a rough stretch with her lungs, so we found a doctor. The doctor in question was Laru, and I’m sure you’re aware of their species’ proclivity for genetic medical therapy.’
‘I’ve heard that, yeah.’
‘Right. So, this doctor helps Tracker with her trouble, and even though we weren’t there for me, she gave me a check-up as well, because why not. Three days later, she contacted us, and she says, you know, I’ve been running simulations since you were here, and I’m confident I could give you new legs.’
‘What, in a genetweak box or something?’
‘Yes. Basically, she’d put me in stasis and I’d spend the next four tendays in a genetic manipulation module – a genetweak box, as you say – and when I awoke, I’d have new legs. I’d have to relearn how to use them, but it wouldn’t hurt. I wouldn’t be aware of anything that happened while I was out. She talked me through the whole procedure, and said Tracker could be there with me the whole time. Given the good care she’d provided Tracker, I trusted her. I liked her. I don’t always say that about doctors. But everything she proposed seemed safe and above board.’
‘But you didn’t do it.’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I didn’t want to,’ Speaker said simply.
‘But why?’
‘Because I didn’t want to. And when it comes to a person’s body, that is all the reason there ever needs to be. Doesn’t matter if it’s a decision about a new pair of legs or how you like to trim your claws or—’ she gave Pei a piercing look ‘—what to do about an egg. I didn’t want to. You don’t want to. That’s it.’
‘But—’ Pei started.
Speaker leaned forward. ‘That. Is all. It ever needs to be.’
Pei frowned, her colours swirling uneasily. Inside, she balked at what Speaker was getting at, and took it as proof that Speaker didn’t understand, that you could explain cultural differences all day long, but in the end, there were some gaps you just couldn’t fill. But a sliver within her gravitated hard toward the Akarak’s sentiment, begging the rest of her to come along. Pei was unnerved by this, and her cheeks tinted red. ‘Why are you even having this conversation with me?’
‘Because it’s interesting,’ Speaker said. ‘And because I think you needed to have it.’ She stretched her neck, rocking her head from side to side. ‘And speaking of needs, I have to go tend to myself. I’ll try to not be more than half an hour.’
Speaker clanked away, leaving Pei with the monitor, the unconscious Laru, and a few too many thoughts that needed sifting through. Tupo exhaled loudly, as xe did from time to time. The sound meant nothing, but Pei’s implant interpreted it as sad and impatient, the non-verbal complaint of someone who was ready to move the fuck on.
Yeah, kid, she flashed. I know the feeling.
SPEAKER
She needed to take care of herself, but she had to be quick about it. Everything aboard Capt— aboard Pei’s shuttle had stayed the same for hours, which was what made Speaker wary about leaving. She wasn’t superstitious in the slightest, but her stepping out seemed like exactly the time in which something might happen. The last thing she wanted was to be absent for that.
She climbed out of her cockpit, muscles stretching with relief. The suit was as comfortable as she could make it, but stars, it always felt good to get out of it.
The good feeling vanished as she noticed the ruined cake lying on the floor, its formerly fluffy frosting now collapsed. She hated the sight of it, but cleaning would have to wait. She locked a wrist-hook around the nearest pole and swung forward with clear intention. Bathroom. Food. Air. That was her mission here.
After completing the first item on her list, she made her way to the kitchen – if it could even be called that. It was a nook, really, containing storage hammocks and a stick-out shelf with a hot pot and a water tank. It wasn’t much to look at, but she liked it much better than whatever the hell was going on in that Aeluon ship. At least here she could see where the doors were.
She reached for one of the dehydrated meal packs she’d been living off of for the past four days – hook bean hash, which she’d discovered to be completely fine. Not as good as the hook bean hash her mother had made, by a long shot, but it was tasty and filling and reminiscent of home. She began to open the package, but hesitated. She’d have to cook it, obviously, which would take ten minutes, and then she’d have to wait for it to cool – and it wasn’t the sort of dish you could scarf down in three bites and be on your way. She considered instead grabbing an armload of protein bars, eating one right then, and taking the rest with her. But Speaker was ravenous. Aside from having been out of her ship for hours, she’d been putting the suit through tasks she’d never done before. Lifting things and using tools? Fine. But lifting people and using medical tools had never been on her to-do list, and it had taken no small amount of concentration to not be clumsy about it. She tore open the meal pack and emptied its shrivelled contents into the hot pot, along with some water. Yes, cooking would take time, but she needed to eat. She’d be of no help to anyone if she continued along with an unfuelled brain.