said Ira politely. ‘An excellent start.’
He clapped Will on the shoulder so gently that he barely felt it. Will wanted badly to tell the captain that he knew how he must be grieving. He understood how close Ira and Doug had been. But he couldn’t think of a way to say it that didn’t presume some kind of familiarity.
‘I’m very grateful for this opportunity, sir … Ira,’ was the best he could come up with. He tried again. ‘I know I have big boots to fill, and I’m going to do my best.’
‘Thank you, Will. I don’t doubt it,’ Ira replied blandly. ‘Otherwise they wouldn’t have picked you to be here today, would they?’ He gave Will an opaque smile.
At that moment, Amy and John stepped through the door, sparing them further awkwardness.
Amy was in her forties with a round, motherly face. She had kind eyes, hair in plaits and the same indestructible body plan as Rachel and Ira. John was a little taller and thinner than the others, with side-swept blond hair and the face of a cartoon action hero.
‘Will,’ said Ira. ‘This is Amy McKlusky-Ritter and John Jack Forrester-Klasse. Amy runs nav and medicine. John here is our pet spy. He runs weapons. Guys, I’d like you to meet Will Kuno-Monet, Handler Div’s finest. He’s fresh out of the same firefight as us, where he managed to single-handedly rescue two battle-cruisers and save the life of Admiral Bryant.’
Amy and John nodded their appreciation of his achievements. Will blushed from ear to ear.
‘Farmer Bob has shown me some of his work and I can tell you, it’s first rate, really first rate,’ said Ira, nodding earnestly. To Will’s ears, it sounded unpleasantly as if the captain was trying to convince himself.
Amy took one of Will’s hands in both of hers and grasped it warmly, almost like a hug. ‘Welcome to the Ariel ,’ she said. It’s good to have you aboard.’
‘Thanks,’ said Will, starting to unwind a little.
Then it was John’s turn. The assault officer winked and squeezed Will’s fingers just a little too hard. ‘Your first time in soft combat?’
Will nodded.
‘Don’t be fooled by the name,’ said John with a sinister grin. ‘There’s nothing soft about it.’
Will’s uncertainty returned. He watched the crew greet each other and felt like a lonely giant at a dinner party for dwarves. It didn’t take a genius to see that he was the odd one out in this crowd. They were all from prestigious space-going families that had provided them with the finest spaceflight modifications Galatean science could provide. Those mods gave them countless advantages in shipboard life. They had reinforced arteries that could pump blood in the absence of heart function. They lay on couches during high-gee manoeuvres while normal people had to be suspended in special gel-filled muscle-tanks. Zero-gee environments were as natural to them as walking. They were also academically brilliant. Every member of the crew except Will had published important papers in their chosen fields.
In contrast, Will’s parents were as poor as Galateans got. They’d only been granted a child licence because they’d volunteered for the roboteer project. With the exception of the quirky mix he’d inherited naturally through his parents’ own alterations, Will’s mods had been selected and provided by the state.
So what? No matter his humble origins, he’d still been chosen for this team. He had a right to be here.
He was urgently reminding himself of this when someone walked into the room who didn’t feature in any of his memories.
‘Greetings, all! Hope I’m not too late.’
The voice belonged to another stout man, though he didn’t look superhuman like the rest of the crew. He was middle-aged with thin, reddish hair and highly animated eyes in a pasty face. He grinned broadly.
‘Not at all,’ said Ira. ‘Folks, I’d like you to meet Dr Hugo Bessler-Vartian from Fleet Research. He’ll be our passenger on this cruise. But don’t
He clapped Will on the shoulder so gently that he barely felt it. Will wanted badly to tell the captain that he knew how he must be grieving. He understood how close Ira and Doug had been. But he couldn’t think of a way to say it that didn’t presume some kind of familiarity.
‘I’m very grateful for this opportunity, sir … Ira,’ was the best he could come up with. He tried again. ‘I know I have big boots to fill, and I’m going to do my best.’
‘Thank you, Will. I don’t doubt it,’ Ira replied blandly. ‘Otherwise they wouldn’t have picked you to be here today, would they?’ He gave Will an opaque smile.
At that moment, Amy and John stepped through the door, sparing them further awkwardness.
Amy was in her forties with a round, motherly face. She had kind eyes, hair in plaits and the same indestructible body plan as Rachel and Ira. John was a little taller and thinner than the others, with side-swept blond hair and the face of a cartoon action hero.
‘Will,’ said Ira. ‘This is Amy McKlusky-Ritter and John Jack Forrester-Klasse. Amy runs nav and medicine. John here is our pet spy. He runs weapons. Guys, I’d like you to meet Will Kuno-Monet, Handler Div’s finest. He’s fresh out of the same firefight as us, where he managed to single-handedly rescue two battle-cruisers and save the life of Admiral Bryant.’
Amy and John nodded their appreciation of his achievements. Will blushed from ear to ear.
‘Farmer Bob has shown me some of his work and I can tell you, it’s first rate, really first rate,’ said Ira, nodding earnestly. To Will’s ears, it sounded unpleasantly as if the captain was trying to convince himself.
Amy took one of Will’s hands in both of hers and grasped it warmly, almost like a hug. ‘Welcome to the Ariel ,’ she said. It’s good to have you aboard.’
‘Thanks,’ said Will, starting to unwind a little.
Then it was John’s turn. The assault officer winked and squeezed Will’s fingers just a little too hard. ‘Your first time in soft combat?’
Will nodded.
‘Don’t be fooled by the name,’ said John with a sinister grin. ‘There’s nothing soft about it.’
Will’s uncertainty returned. He watched the crew greet each other and felt like a lonely giant at a dinner party for dwarves. It didn’t take a genius to see that he was the odd one out in this crowd. They were all from prestigious space-going families that had provided them with the finest spaceflight modifications Galatean science could provide. Those mods gave them countless advantages in shipboard life. They had reinforced arteries that could pump blood in the absence of heart function. They lay on couches during high-gee manoeuvres while normal people had to be suspended in special gel-filled muscle-tanks. Zero-gee environments were as natural to them as walking. They were also academically brilliant. Every member of the crew except Will had published important papers in their chosen fields.
In contrast, Will’s parents were as poor as Galateans got. They’d only been granted a child licence because they’d volunteered for the roboteer project. With the exception of the quirky mix he’d inherited naturally through his parents’ own alterations, Will’s mods had been selected and provided by the state.
So what? No matter his humble origins, he’d still been chosen for this team. He had a right to be here.
He was urgently reminding himself of this when someone walked into the room who didn’t feature in any of his memories.
‘Greetings, all! Hope I’m not too late.’
The voice belonged to another stout man, though he didn’t look superhuman like the rest of the crew. He was middle-aged with thin, reddish hair and highly animated eyes in a pasty face. He grinned broadly.
‘Not at all,’ said Ira. ‘Folks, I’d like you to meet Dr Hugo Bessler-Vartian from Fleet Research. He’ll be our passenger on this cruise. But don’t
Similar Books
