Episode 8 - Symbiosis

  Chapter 81 - We Could Just Be Strangers?

  I poke my head into the tiny galley kitchen. Multiple crewmen have crammed themselves into the small space, including Rhett, who is leaning against the cupboards chatting in a grumble with Patrick, who remains fixed in place as other crew members pass him. The two-burner electric stove is on a gimbal, wobbling slightly as the gondola sways. A small kettle is mounted on one burner and a larger pot on the second.

  “The money is still in opiates, always has been,” argues Patrick loudly. “The research orgs still haven’t worked out how to synthesize ‘em, gotta grow them in bloody plants.”

  Rhett blandly lifts the lid of the kettle and peeks at the contents. “We learnt most of our modern chemistry from plants, doesn’t surprise me,” he mutters. He taps the back of his hand against the kettle a few times, testing the temperature.

  “It's been good business. No one is turning away the chance to sell it for three times the price they can on legit channels, especially if someone is pocketing the difference on the ledgers. There’s always a supply of painkillers, and some fuckin’ middle management drone willing to buy 'em. Half the routes we’ve been doing the last few years have been back and forth from Bensons to Fengxian,” continues Patrick. “You missed a couple of fun side-gigs moving twins too.”

  “What’s significant about twins?” I ask from the doorway.

  Rhett raises an eyebrow at the sight of me, leaning forward from the cabinets, but Patrick chimes in first. “What’s up? Captain want her tea?”

  “Yeah, she sent me to find out where it is at. What’s up with twins?” I repeat.

  “Nothing if they are fraternal. If they are identical, only one can manifest,” explains Patrick. Rhett hip-checks him out of the way with a grunt and pulls out a teapot and a few mugs from the cabinet behind him. Then he spins, dodging another crewman busy with the big pot, to pull some tea leaves from an alcove above.

  I draw back from the doorway to let someone pass. “As in the second physically can’t manifest, or isn’t allowed to manifest?”

  “Physically can’t. Genetics or something. The blood works once,” says Patrick with a shrug. “I’m a twin.”

  “Who goes first then?” I ask.

  “That’s the problem, isn’t it now?” replies Patrick with a grin.

  “What do you even do with someone who can’t manifest?”

  “If you’re management, pay a crew like us to give them another life. My family bought me my way into Captain Rattakul’s crew when I was a teen. Joined about the same time as the wolf-cub here? Eh?” Patrick playfully nudges Rhett with an elbow, who grunts and bats him away while measuring out a portion of tea leaves into the basket of the teapot.

  “You don’t have a symbiont?” I ask.

  “Nah, girl. I’m just me.”

  “And you’re in the way,” growls Rhett.

  “You’re all in the way,” calls a third voice from down the galley.

  “Captain ordered tea,” calls Patrick over the complaints. “And I will damn well see that the Captain gets her tea!”

  Rhett nudges him through the doorway as I step back into the metal hallway to let them through. The handles of a pair of enamel-coated mugs are threaded through his fingers, teapot looped over the wrist of his second hand.

  “She get impatient?” he asks.

  “Yeah, she’s waiting in her… cabin?” I guess, not really sure what to call her room at the front of the gondola.

  “What did she talk to you about?” asks Patrick, hanging over my shoulder as he dangles from the ceiling, letting his body limply rock with the movement of the gondola.

  “None of your business,” orders Rhett.

  “Boo. Cryptid secrets.”

  Ignoring Patrick, Rhett gestures at me with the mugs. “You want me to bring these?”

  “Probably, I can barely balance without both hands keeping me upright.”

  “Lead the way,” he grunts.

  “Can I have a cuppa tea?” asks Patrick, following curiously.

  “Ask the Captain,” replies Rhett dismissively from behind me as I lead us back to the front of the gondola again.

  Rattakul smacks her lips together with pleasure as she takes a sip from the mug. “No one makes a brew like you do. I can’t believe I let Regina take you from me,” she declares with a satisfied sigh, closing both eyes.

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  I watch Rhett hide the sly grin at the corner of his lips as I blow on my cup. “It’s not hard. Just don’t let the kettle boil. You’ll burn the leaves. Not that it matters much for this cheap stock.”

  “That why you left me then? Regina buy you the good stuff?” probes Rattakul, opening one eye to watch him.

  Rhett stands back from the tiny dining table in Rattakul’s cabin, the teapot cupped in both hands. “She is my mother,” he replies blandly.

  “And you’ve got a crew there, I know,” replies Rattakul.

  “Anything else you need?” asks Rhett.

  “Sit. Have a cup with us.”

  I blink over my tea, shy suddenly at the prospect that Rhett might stay. To my relief, he grunts, “I only bought two cups.”

  “Go get one and bring it back. I’ve got business for you.”

  Rhett glances at me, just as uncertain, but does as told with a short, “Captain,” muttered in affirmation. He carefully places the teapot between us and then turns.

  I watch him leave, and the moment the door shuts behind him, I turn back to Rattakul. “Are you sure…?”

  Rattakul raises one eyebrow, her forehead bunching. “You’re gonna need someone who knows their way around out there if you’re going to blood-bond yourself and not bleed out on the platform in the process. You've worked together at Aquila, hmm? You dislike him as much as Lyall’s crew, then?”

  “... Not that, but-”

  “But? But what? I don’t have time for childish bullying. He doesn’t need to know the secrets of conduits, but boy’s got himself good odds he’ll breed one of his own, one day. Might as well know what needs to be done if one of us isn’t there to guide ‘em. Don’t get me wrong, our secrets are ours to keep. Lyall and I knew the moment we met him he’d not take after his sire.”

  I grimly look into my cup. So they knew and never told him. Probably never told Regina either. I’m struck by how cruel I find this admission. It feels like false hope.

  An odd thought has been creeping in the back of my mind, unexamined as of yet given the revelations of the past few hours. When he was locked in with the Erratic back in Catakalan, he didn’t go insane. He’s said himself he can’t quite hear Pell, but he’s always seemed to have a closer relationship with her than many. Many others leave their symbionts out of the way during the day to day, but if it's safe Pell is usually somewhere nearby... And I'm the only one who ever knows.

  He’s not a full conduit, but I don’t think it’s a case of black and white, like many things. I think he has something that makes his bond stronger than most people - a diluted conduit then, maybe.

  Changing the topic, I ask, “Will Captain Moreau let me go off to find an intact platform?”

  “He will if I tell him to, but he’ll be in a better mood about it if you prove yourself useful to him. Saving his crew’s hides might buy you some charity there. Mind you, he needs a scout, so you can’t be long. Most of the intact platforms are inside domes, but there are a few abandoned ones in the wilds between cities. You’ll have to get lucky on a route where one is along the way and be out and back within a day or two. Pick your moment, so to speak,” explains Rattakul shortly between sips of tea.

  “You’re suggesting I go with Rhett?” I clarify.

  “Suggesting what?” grumbles Rhett as he re-enters, a third mug in his hand.

  “Conrada here needs to go into the wilderness and contact an intact manifestation platform,” commands Rattakul, tapping her cane against the metal floor. “I’ll talk your father into it, but I need you to go with her so she doesn’t get herself killed bleeding out in the wilds.”

  Rhett frowns at that very odd command, tapping his mug in his palm in thought. “Okay.” He closes the distance between us and pours himself a cup from the teapot. I avoid looking up at him in case I catch his eye. I’m not sure I want to see what he is thinking right now.

  “Good lad, no questions asked. Easy,” says Rattakul, taking another sip from her cup.

  The steam from my cup has dissipated, so I finally take a sip to test the temperature. The brew is dark and robust, with an almost earthy aftertaste. I nurse the warm drink, feeling very human compared to hours earlier when I stood alone in that storm. It’s not less; it’s just different.

  “When then?” I ask as Rhett leans against the back of Rattakul’s throne, legs planted wide to keep his balance while the gondola rocks.

  “When you’ve learnt a little more about how we live out here so Everett doesn’t have his hands full babysitting you. And when Lyall allows it,” replies Rattakul simply. “You’re his crew.”

  Rhett clears his throat. “You want me to stay with Dad’s crew while -?”

  “Nah, lad. Unlike your parents, I don’t think suffering makes someone stronger. But we cross paths with the Lupine Company enough that we can pick a moment.”

  “You don’t have to,” I interrupt shyly, looking over the rim of my cup.

  Rhett rolls his jaw, his mug curled between both hands. Then, he asks a question I’ve never heard come out of his lips. “What do you want me to do?”

  Rattakul immediately whips her head between us, almond-shaped eyes narrowing and a thoughtful quirk curving the corner of her mouth.

  I tap the side of my cup with the tips of my fingers. “What if we could make something work with HR in a city and get access to a manifestation platform there?”

  Rhett hums, eyes darting while he considers the problem. “Slim chances. There are two organizations you don’t mess with - Intertrain and Manifestation Resources. They’ll ask questions.”

  “Aquila could break in?”

  “Yes. But do you want Regina to know anything about this? Or Adrian?”

  I pause as I continue to tap my mug with one fingernail. “You don’t even know what this is.”

  Rhett looks down into his mug. “I trust the Captain. I know an order when it’s given… I -” he chews back the final thought, deciding not to give it voice.

  Rattakul watches me across the table, waiting for my reply, a glimmer in the corner of her dark eyes.

  “I think I want to do this,” I say, earning a yellow-toothed smirk of approval from Rattakul. “You don’t have to take responsibility for me, we're not Aquila here. I can work it out on my own if I have to. We can just be strangers… if you wanted?” I test.

  Rhett swirls his mug, taking a long drink and letting the lack of reply go on slightly too long for my comfort. Rattakul’s undivided interest in our exchange makes me feel shy. I’m certain we’d be fighting already if she weren’t here, instead of this awkward exchange.

  He’s never asked me what I wanted, I’ve never asked him. We both just… did things? I don’t really know what to make of this. He’s never been scared of me, it’s not that, it can’t be seeing my powers properly that has brought about this change… or has it? Maybe he’s been reflecting on some of his own behavior.

  “I’ll come help,” he finally says. The words are confident and resolute, almost a command. That feels more familiar.

  ? My 100th Life Will Be My Last ?

  by Asher Teivel

  Clara Crowsong has died ninety-nine times, and this is her last chance to save her family.