Vanguard Word Update

2k words

***

“A pragmatic outlook,” Samiha mused. “Perhaps there’s a shred of a Kith’sla in you after all.”

Cadell felt like they’d reached a level of understanding, however brief it might be. They were both at fault for ending up out here, potentially kicked off the program, the time for pointing fingers was long gone.

Jim returned with their meals, setting their dishes down on the table. The portions were generous, the slabs of beef inches thick, the scent of grilled meat making Cadell’s mouth water at the prospect.

Samiha’s meal had been put on a silver platter to compensate for the size of her meal, Jim placing it gingerly before her. There was enough on her plate to feed their whole squad for the day, a great pile of battered fries surrounding her two cuts of beef, sided with a pile of steaming vegetables.

“Chuck me a holler if you need anything else,” Jim said, retreating off to tend to another table. Samiha scrutinised her meal with her orange eyes, lifting up one of the steaks with her nail.

“Why is it so brown?” she asked. “Do they have an incinerator back there?”

“That’s only medium rare,” Cadell said, slicing into his meal with a knife and fork. “Don’t Balokarids cook their meat?”

“Not for nearly this long,” she replied. “Most of the blood and colour is gone, and that’s where the flavour comes from. Does the owner not know that?”

From her tone he guessed Balokarids liked their meat rare, if not raw. He’d have to keep that in mind.

“I doubt they didn’t season it with something,” he said. “Just give it a try.”

She sighed reluctantly, but she did pick up her cutlery, holding them like someone who hadn’t handled chopsticks before, Cadell chuckling as he showed her how to use them. Samiha silently rubbed the back of her neck as he demonstrated, and although he had a few teasing remarks on hand, he kept them to himself.

Once she understood, she picked up her cutlery, and sliced off a piece of meat, popping it into her beak. She chewed twice, then swallowed, clicking her mouth together like a wine connoisseur savouring a taste.

“How is it?” he asked.

Her answer was cutting off another mouthful and wolfing it down, Cadell smiling at her from across the table.

“See? Never judge a book by its cover, Samiha.”

“What fool even created that expression?” Samiha asked between bites. “Books are literally wrapped in their covers; it is impossible not to see it when reading a book, there purpose is to be judged.”

“It’s not meant to be taken that literally, Samiha,” he explained. “It’s a figure of speech, about how looks can be deceiving.”

“I see. My parents always said I had a poor imagination,” she muttered, scooping up some of her fries, carefully eyeing the visible seasoning before taking a bite.

“Are your mum and dad in the fleet?” Cadell asked. “Did they make it out of Dur’shala?”

“They passed away long before the invasion.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Cadell said, clearing his throat.

“Don’t be. They went peaceably enough, which is more than can be said for the rest of the Clan.”

“Have any other family?”

“How is your meal?” Samiha asked, dodging his question. “It is called ‘porterhouse’ correct? Why is that?”

“It’s good, and as for the name, I don’t rightly know. I’ll trade you if you want.”

Samiha did, and despite her initial scepticism, she seemed to be enjoying the food. Of the few times she had sat alongside the rest of the squad in the quadrant’s mess hall, she had said little and eaten less, but now the two of them were making small but companionable chit-chat.

When Jim returned, there was nothing but crumbs on their plates. He gave the both of them a glance before speaking, maybe picking up on the eased tension between the two aliens.

“How was everything?” he asked. “I see you cleaned up pretty well, ma’am. That’s a good sign.”

“I enjoyed it,” Samiha replied. “Especially the steamed vegetables. You seasoned them perfectly.”

“I’ll pass that along to the chefs,” Jim replied, beaming. “They were pretty nervous when I told them we had a special guest, but it seems we passed the extraterrestrial test.”

“Hope we didn’t cause a ruckus or nothin’,” Cadell muttered.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. Things have been pretty quiet round here, we could do with the excitement.”

“That won’t do,” Samiha said. “I’ll inform my Kith’sla that my people should visit this place if they ever pass by. Word of advice: don’t overcook the meat.”

“Ma’am, you are too kind,” Jim replied. “I’ll have to start setting up some Balokarid-sized seats if that happens, can’t have you using footstools like that. Either of you want a look at the dessert menu?”

When Samiha glanced at Cadell, she shook her head. “Think we’re good for now,” he said. “We’ll just take the check.”

Jim nodded, fetching a scanner while Cadell took out his wallet, Samiha watching on curiously. As Jim presented the scanner, Samiha made a hold-on gesture.

“Wait. You did not ask which of us will pay for this meal,” she said.

“Call me a traditionalist,” Jim replied. “But when a couple dine in, it’s the man who foots the bill.”

Samiha’s feathers ruffled, her beak opening as she gawked. Cadell’s reaction was much the same, the two exchanging a wild glance as they spoke over each other.

“W-We’re not a couple,” she stammered.

“Not by a long shot,” Cadell added.

“I meant a couple, as in two people. Didn’t mean to insinuate anything by it,” Jim added, but his supressed grin was reason enough to doubt his authenticity.

The hit to his bank account wasn’t small, but that wasn’t surprising. Shipping real beef out to the station wouldn’t be a cheap endeavour, but it wasn’t like Cadell was financially strapped in the first place now that he was Hub property.

With everything paid for, Jim bid them farewell and told them to come again, even offering Samiha a small bow on there way out. He was glad to see that not everyone had the same reaction to meeting aliens. Most just stared, and some of the civilians on the torus had even looked at her in fear, but they were lucky enough to have found a restaurant owned by one who had the most positive outlook out of anyone. If only Cadell had acted that way when he’d met Samiha, maybe things wouldn’t have become so heated.

“What was that whole ritual just now?” Samiha asked as they left through the front door, the ambience of the torus easing into the foreground. “I assume you paid for the food, but I didn’t see any money.”

“That’s cause it’s all digitised,” Cadell explained. “It’s all stored in a computer somewhere on the station. My card has a little chip that acts like an identifier. When Jim scanned it, it sent a signal to say who to send the money to and how much, and it happens all automatically.”

“May I see it?”

He handed it over, Samiha studying the little chip as it reflected the light off a nearby street post. “Most people just use their phones nowadays,” Cadell added. “but I’ve always used my card. How about you? Your people trade in water, right? Still can’t believe that’s your currency.”

“You are one to talk,” Samiha chided. “I’ve read that your people place an arbitrary value on gold, and you can’t drink gold, can you?”

“Touche,” Cadell said. “So do you only trade with water?”

“We have subsidiary tokens that are far easier to carry than drums of water. Here.” She fished into her belt and produced a little orange gemstone, dropping it in his hand. He turned it over, feeling its surprisingly heavy weight, rubbing his thumb over a strange symbol carved onto one side of it. “That symbol conveys its weight,” she explained. “Most tokens are stamped so that people don’t have to waste time measuring and converting its worth. This one is worth about one cup of water.”

“What’s it made of?” Cadell asked, turning it over.

“I believe you call it copper, a primary component in electrical gear, but I’m sure you already know that.”

He made to hand it back, but Samiha shook her head.

“You keep that. I know I had more than one cup, but until I have human money, it’s all I can offer.”

Cadell shrugged, pocketing the nugget away. Maybe he could buy a drink from a Balokarid vendor if they ever came across one.

The retraced their way back out of the food court, finding themselves on the main torus once more. She asked him if it was time to return to the military quadrant, Cadell checking the clock on his phone.

“We still got a couple hours to kill,” he told her.

“What shall we do?”

“Don’t know, I’m as lost as you are. Let’s just wander around, maybe we’ll find something interesting.”

They turned left from the court, the military quadrant far to their backs. It didn’t take very long for them to find something of note, the buildings and the signage become more elaborate as they entered what must be the entertainment section of the station. There were shop windows all along the flanks of the torus, like two endless markets forming on either side of the aisle, their facades draped in fake but refreshing decals in the form of bricks and wood panelling.

There was even a giant shopping mall along the lefthand side of the hull, three storeys of commercial goodness bulging out from the metallic cliff, most of it visible through giant glass panes. Samiha was mostly quiet on their explorations, but even the reserved alien couldn’t keep her curiosity in check as she walked through an alien society for the first time, always stopping to examine every little attraction. Even Cadell was impressed, the kind of scale that the Hub didn’t struggle to provide was unheard of back on his colony world.

“So many different wares being peddled,” Samiha murmured as they walked from one distraction to another. “So much human money must pass through this station.”

“It is the biggest trading hub in human space,” Cadell explained. “Hence the name. Plus it’s almost centralised between the Inner and Outer Reaches, so there’s all sorts of goods comin’ and goin’.”

“How can it be centralised in space?” Samiha asked. “You can’t put lines of territory in four dimensions.”

“The Reaches are more like giant sphere’s of influence,” Cadell explained. “They’re not completely even, but they kind of form a giant number eight. Like this.” He demonstrated with his hands, looping his thumbs and indexes and then putting them together. “The two spheres make this sort of squashed bean look, and the Hub is right in this thin part – it’s actually a little skewered towards the Outer Reaches – but it’s close enough to be centre. Fastest way to get from Reach to Reach is to go straight through the Hub system, so pretty much every trade lane converges here.”

“A strong tactical position,” Samiha noted. “Control the supply, control the war.”

“Yep. Confederates used this station all the time to coordinate their fleets, and when the Outer Reaches rebelled, the Hub along with, all their long-range strike groups were completely cut off. It was a logistical nightmare for them. At least, that’s what I’ve been told.”

They walked for a while longer, and Cadell sensed that Samiha was getting bored. Fortunately, they came upon an information kiosk, the interactive screen displaying their current position in a three-dimensional map.

“Here we go, we should be able to find somethin’ to do from here,” Cadell said, using his finger to scroll through the list of amenities nearby. He browsed for a few minutes, starting to think he’d have trouble finding something an alien would like, but as he reached the last third of the list, his eyes lit up.

“Find anything?” Samiha asked, peeking over his shoulder at the slanted screen.

“Oh, yes, something very good,” he said, backing out of the menu quickly once he had the directions.

“What is it?” Samiha pressed. “Let me see.”

“I think you’ll appreciate the surprise,” he said. “Come on, it’s this way.”