Administrative Tower
He had written to the delm and to dea’Gauss, detailing the Traveler’s Aid Notice, the arrival of Ren Stryker and the first wave, and the expected continued arrival of aid.
When that was sent, he wrote a second letter, to the delm alone, seeking guidance in the matter of the station’s sentience, and briefly outlining Joyita and Bechimo’s judgment, that Tocohl, who had not been born to be Station, could never truly be Station, though she was a perfectly able administrator.
Correspondence for the moment cleared, Jen Sin leaned back in his chair.
He would in a moment open the station maps and seek to identify an appropriate space for those crews who were incoming. Whole sections of the station had been sealed off as Tinsori Light found it more and more necessary to husband his failing resources.
He rose, crossed the tower, and drew himself a cup of water, which he drank standing at the dispenser.
His mind drifted somewhat, to the goods reported unloaded and stashed in the cargo pen. He ought also, he thought, to identify a common area for the safe wing. The stuff they had pirated from Tarigan’s supplies had been unceremoniously brought into a vacant meeting room, which was left open, so that anyone might draw at need. It was the best they could do, in those first, frantic days following the Old Light’s demise, but now, he thought, they could do better. Ought to do better. Tinsori Light had been a prison for him and for Lorith, but for those who came willingly, it ought to be a respite, offering comfort, care, and a soft time of ease.
Well, he said to himself, bold plans, Light Keeper. First, let us find a way to accommodate our incoming—
“Theo has just exited the lift at the end of the hall,” Tocohl said.
He disposed of his cup, and went back across the room, reaching his desk just as the chime sounded.
“Please open to our Cousin Theo, Tocohl.”
The door opened, and in she strode, looking refreshed and lively.
“Theo,” he said gravely, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
She tipped her head, and considered him seriously.
“Is this a bad time?”
“In fact, it is not. Merely, I had been listing out those things that required my attention, and was becoming somewhat breathless. Well met, Cousin. Truly.” He gave her a smile, and waved to the chairs at his desk.
“Will you sit?”
“I won’t be long,” she said, and reached into a pocket.
“Tree’s been busy,” she said, and handed him another pod. This one was even heavier than the first, and unripe. He put it away into his own pocket.
“Please let the Tree know that I am grateful, but that it must not overstretch itself for me.”
Theo wrinkled her nose. “I got the impression it wants to—feed you up, if you understand me.”
“Everything that is kind,” he murmured. “Please do not tell me that you came all this way merely to deliver—”
“I’m glad to have a walk,” Theo interrupted him, “but there’s more. Here.”
A folded printout was produced from another pocket, and extended.
“That’s the list of things my crew would find good, if Gordy’s inclined to bring them.”
He took the page, glancing down—
“Bowli balls? What are bowli balls?”
Theo blinked.
“You’ve never played bowli ball?”
“Alas.”
“Well, that won’t do. We’ve got a couple onboard, but they’ve seen some use. These are…I owe Kara, for losing a bet, and anyway, there ought to be enough for everybody who wants to play. Tell you what—we’ll get up a game sometime in the next few shifts; give you a demo, right?”
“I look forward to the demonstration,” he said politely, and Theo blinked.
“Good, we’ll make sure to call you. I wanted to tell you that Supervisor Fenchile’s sending a comp systems crew over at eighteen hundred to help us finish clearing the core.”
“Excellent.” Jen Sin leaned a hip against his desk and crossed his arms. “He had said he would call you.”
“Once the core’s taken care of, what else can we do for you?” she asked—so earnest, the child! “We’re here to help, remember?”
“I do know it,” he told her wryly, “but I am unused to having so much potential available to me. Do keep reminding me if I lapse, Cousin.”
He paused.
“Do you know—there may be something. Boss Fenchile’s first wave brought us what he is pleased to dignify as basic aid supplies. We have been living at high scramble since the station stabilized, and it is perhaps time to make our bow to civilization. A common room, with items on-draw for crew, and—tables, nooks—you know the style of thing. A room on this hall—wait.”
He slid into his chair and pulled the hall plan up on the screen. It was not a very large area, that he had cut out of the Light’s influence, meter by painful meter, but there were—
“Here.” He tapped the room, and expanded the image on the screen, aware of Theo leaning over his shoulder.
“It is the largest room in this hall,” he murmured, “and could be made comfortable. An interim lounge—we will do better, as sections are opened—which is my next task—but for the moment, a place to share a glass of wine, or—play a game, read a book…”
“We can do that,” Theo said. “Open the room, give me the code for the cargo pen, and we’ll get it done for you.”
“We have two work jitneys on loan. I’m told they’re charged and waiting by the cargo pen.” Jen Sin unlocked the door on the new crew lounge with three taps on his keypad.
“Station,” he said, his eyes still on the screen. “Will you please alert the cleanbots to this room, as an area requiring their attention?”
“Done,” Station said.
“Thank you.”
He sat back in his chair and turned his head, his cheek accidentally brushing Theo’s. His breath caught, but she only gave his shoulder a cousinly pat, and stepped back.
He spun his chair ’round to face her.
“One more thing, and I’ll let you get back to work,” she said seriously. “Stost and Chernak—one or both—are willing to give you that tour of Spiral Dance. You call when you’ve got time, and they’ll make it happen, is what they told me.”
She gave him a wry glance, eyebrows tilted in an expression so comically familiar that he laughed.
She grinned, and reached into her jacket pocket, and he thought perhaps she had brought him yet another Tree-fruit.
“In the meantime, you might as well hold this,” she said, and it was not Tree-fruit in her hand.
It was a ship’s key.
Longing burned through him, even as horror nailed him to his chair.
“I’d been thinking about what you’d said earlier,” Theo was saying, “about not being able to leave the Light, because you didn’t have a ship. But, you know, that’s not true, anymore. Spiral Dance is a Korval ship, and you’ve got as much a right to her key as—”
She held it out to him.
His own hand leapt forward—
And he jerked back, fingers curling into a fist at his side.
“Put it away,” he said, hearing the raw, dangerous edge in his voice.
Theo stared at him, and did not move, which was a reasonable response. The gods alone knew what she must see in his face now, but there was the key, in sight and unsafe on her palm.
“Put it away, Cousin,” he said again, and this time she did, moving slow and careful, never taking her eyes off his, as she slipped the thing into her pocket.
“Thank you.” He was trembling, and his voice, too, and she was still standing there, a ship’s key in her pocket. Easy enough to make it his, should he—
“Cousin,” he managed, “leave. Now, Theo!”
She inclined slightly from the waist, and took a step back, toward the door.
“Station,” she said, her voice perfectly calm, “please open the door to the light keeper’s office.”
It whisked open behind her; she stepped out into the hall, her eyes holding his.
The door closed.
Jen Sin gasped, and raised his hands to cover his face. Deliberately, he brought the focusing prism before his mind’s eye, and reviewed each color, gaining a measure of calm from the ordered flow. He was in control, he told himself firmly. He had not given Tinsori Light what it wanted, nor murdered kin for a ship’s key. Only he needed to be calm, now. He needed to be Korval’s face and will, until the Delm’s Solution arrived.
Then, he could finish the task he had started so…very long ago.
“Cousin Jen Sin,” Tocohl said, gently. “Are you well?”
He took a deep breath.
“Perfectly well, I thank you, Cousin.”
He reached to the screen, called up the station map, and began a search of the residence halls.