Damage Control - ARC (13 page)

"How long does a pen run before it has no
ink?"

"Oh, I don't know. A hundred pages, maybe?
Twenty? I've never measured it. And it depends on how small you
write, too."

"I think I know where to find a pen that has
run beyond its ink," said Laitt. "I will try to get it today."

"That would be great, thanks. It's kind of
hard to write with a fork."

Laitt had never provided, directly, for a
Human's sexual needs before, and wasn't sure how to proceed. She
decided to start by talking. "Is it hard to be without other
Humans?"

Jade bowed her head and seemed to be staring
at her feet. "My family doesn't even know if I'm alive or
dead."

"I cannot help you communicate with them,"
Laitt said as gently as she could manage. "But perhaps I can help
fix your other needs."

"What, like a dry pen?"

"I will look for a dry pen later today, when
I leave you," Laitt said. "Now, since your friends are not here,
perhaps I can substitute for them."

"Oh, that's very nice of you," the Human
said, but she didn't smile.

"What do you enjoy most to do when you are
with a friend?"

"Oh, I don't know. Skiing, going to a
baseball game, going to the beach."

The only part of that, that Laitt understood,
was the part about going. She hoped they were activities that could
be done in Jade's quarters, or at least in a secure part of the
keev-ship. "Which one is your favorite?"

The Human thought for a moment before
answering. "I can't pick," she said at last. "I just like them all.
It depends on the time of year."

"What do you do at this time of year?"

"Stack firewood, usually."

"You enjoy this?"

Jade laughed, just a little. "No, but I have
a friend who loves it. So we stack hers, and then we stack mine.
It's not so bad doing it together, and it goes faster."

This task was proving more difficult than
Laitt had anticipated. She tried a new angle. "What do you like to
do with your husband?"

"Oh, I'm not married. You're married,
right?"

"Yes, our anti-fertilization failed."

"Anti-fertilization," Jade repeated. "Oh, you
must mean birth control. Do you have a child?"

"Yes. I told you I am married."

"Married means you have a husband—or a wife,
maybe. It doesn't mean you have a child."

"How can I have a husband unless I have an
egg first?"

"In my culture, we usually get married first
and then have children."

"I understand. This is because you incubate
your eggs inside your bodies."

"I don't think that has anything to do with
it. We just get married, and then we decide if we want to have
children."

"I don't understand. How is it possible to be
married if there is no child?"

"Because it's two different things. Marriage
is when you love each other and make the commitment to live your
life together. Having a child is, well, having a child."

"I think that we have nothing like a Human
marriage," Laitt said. "For us, when there is an egg, the father
and mother live together to raise the child. That is all."

"Are you saying that on your planet, nobody
gets married?"

"No, many people get married. Almost everyone
get marrieds when the wife lays an egg."

"Oh, so you lay an egg, and then you move in
together, and then you get married?"

"I don't know what is get married for your
people. For my people, to have an egg and raise it together is to
get married."

"What about love, though?" Jade asked.

"Love is very important. I think that on all
the planets, always love is very important."

Laitt had run out of time to help Jade with
her sexual needs, for now. She had her appointment with Colonel
Elwood Rocco, and would have to help Jade later.

The colonel entered the conference room with
a young man in a tan uniform.

He didn't waste any time. "We have plenty of
toilets," he said. "We are requesting chairs."

"What is the difference between toilets and
chairs?" Laitt asked.

"A toilet deals with bodily waste in a
sanitary manner," the young man translated, "whereas a chair is
just a piece of furniture for shitting in." The translator seemed
to have a slight speech impediment, or possibly a regional
accent.

"I hear you saying one message two times,"
Laitt explained. "I do not understand the difference between a
thing for bodily waste and a thing for shitting."

Elwood's lips twitched, and the translator
laughed outright. "Not shitting. Sitting."

"Sitting," Laitt repeated, "is different from
shitting?"

This time they both laughed. Elwood spoke and
the young man translated, "Yes, very different. Shitting refers to
the elimination of waste. That's what toilets are for. Sitting is a
position of relaxation. It is done with the clothes on and does not
involve bodily waste in any way."

"Sitting is the same as reclining, perhaps,"
Laitt said. "You want more couches."

"The couches are a total other issue," Elwood
replied through his translator. "We are asking for chairs."

"Perhaps you can help me know what is a chair
by making a picture on your paper."

"Certainly." Elwood drew a series of sketches
illustrating a mock toilet with no hole and no sewage connection,
complete with a figure in the position of defecation.

Laitt growled and made no effort to soften
her tone. Her words were simple, but she spoke them with all the
force of her native tongue: "I refuse your request!"

Both Humans froze in unison and stared at
her, their bodies rigid. After a moment, the colonel said, "Yes,
ma'am."

"You are dismissed," Laitt said quietly.

The prisoners hurried to the door and left
the room.

At the beginning of her next shift, Laitt
went back to Jade's quarters to try again. The prisoner was
sleeping, so she left the dry pen on the desk and lay down beside
her.

“Techi zo!” said Laitt in Chuzekk, and the
room lit up.

“Laitt?” Jade hid her eyes from the light and
protested by assuming an offensive position.

Maybe that was what the Humans in the prison
were up to.
It's a protest
, Laitt thought.
They want to
be so offensive we'll send them back home. But why would Elwood
think I would cooperate?

The hair on one side of Jade's head had
somehow grown to three times its normal size.

“Yes," Laitt said. "Do you like the Chuzekk
bed?”

“Yeah,” she answered, then a moment later
changed her answer to the more understandable “Yes. Very
comfortable. You sink down in and it surrounds you, but it still
supports your back.”

“The top layer is soft and the next layer is
harder,” Leitt agreed.

Jade removed her hands from her eyes and
looked down at Leitt. “How long have you been here?”

“A short time,” Leitt replied. “I have not
yet studied how Earth measures time. Did I insult you?”

“Insult me? No.”

“Then you should not insult me,” said Leitt.
“You may lie down.”

Jade lay down again.

Leitt touched Jade’s hair. “Do you like me?”
she asked, looking her in the eyes.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Perhaps you are not familiar with Chuzekk
women.”

“I’m…not really familiar with Chuzekks at
all,” said Jade, “men or women.”

“Did you meet any Chuzekk woman, except
me?”

“Yes,” Jade replied, “I’ve met Koll.”

“Koll?” Leitt repeated. “But Koll is an air
woman.”

“What is an air woman?” asked Jade.

“Air women are different,” she answered. “Air
women live in the air.”

“Live in the air?” said Jade.

“Yes.”

“Is that bad, living in the air?”

“No, it’s not bad. My husband is an air
man.”

“I have a cousin who was an airman,” said
Jade. “How does she stay up there?”

“I do not understand the question,” said
Leitt.

“How does Koll stay up in the air?”

This was an odd question. “She uses her legs,
I think.”

“She can fly with her legs?” Jade asked.

“No,” Leitt answered. “She cannot fly. She
stands with her legs, as you and I do.”

“Stands on what?”

“She stands on the ground, or on the
floor.”

“Didn’t you say she lives in the air?”

“Yes,” said Leitt, and then she smiled. “I
think I know why you do not understand. Koll does not live high in
the air where ships fly. She lives in the air as you live in the
air. I live in the water.”

“Really, you live in the water?” Jade said.
“Your house, your town, are under water?”

“No,” Leitt replied. “They are not under the
water, they are in it. We cannot live in the dirt. We require
oxygen.”

Jade groaned. “Right, of course,” she said.
“What’s it like, living in the water?”

Leitt considered a moment. “Water people
paint ourselves.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Leitt replied. "Why do you
make holes in your ears?"

Jade laughed. "Okay, I get it. I think it's
time for coffee." She pushed herself up on one arm.

Clearly, subtlety wasn't working, and this
visit was turning out to be as fruitless as the last one. Laitt
shifted her position so that her body hovered over the small human
one and ran the backs of her fingers from its hip to its
ribcage.

Jade screamed, dove from the bed and stood
glaring at Laitt and shaking.

Laitt walked to the door and let herself
out.

H
eart pounding, Jade
reached for the keev's right bicep. The Chuzekk arm grasp was
supposed to be a firm hold on the upper arm, but her hand was so
small compared to his arm that all she could manage was a sort of
pinch.

Her own arm in his hand reminded Jade of a
spoon handle. It would have been so easy for him to accidentally
snap her humerus, but she knew he wouldn't. He was too calculating,
too exact, to make a sloppy mistake like that. If he hurt her, it
would be on purpose and without mercy.

She shivered. “Keev,” she said.

“Jade,” he replied, looking her in the eye
without smiling, and let go. He turned to the coffee bar and poured
a cup. “Coffee?” he asked.

“Yes, please.” He had his back to her and it
gave her an odd sense of paradox: out of context, the scene would
have appeared casual, even tranquil. There was nothing in his
manner right now to indicate that they were enemies and she was a
prisoner on his ship. She wondered idly what he would have done if
she hadn't been so respectful. She wasn't about to find out.

He poured her coffee and put in three big
spoonfuls of sugar and some cream, just like last time, and stirred
it. Then he walked to the desk and put his own mug down in front of
the station he had used last time―third from the left-hand end.
Then he placed her mug in front of the second station. “You will
kneel here.”

She did, and immediately felt an almost
overwhelming sense of being trapped. He hadn't specified whether or
not she was still under orders to stay in the station, but she
wasn't going to risk his claws by standing up. Of course she could
ask him if the order was still in effect, but that would be
essentially no different from asking for permission to stand.

And probably he was going to touch her again.
She hated that cold hand on her back. Maybe he did do it, as he had
explained, just so he could keep his job skills sharp. But to her
it felt like an unspoken reminder of her vulnerability and lack of
privacy―of his ability to read her body's responses at will and use
them against her, and maybe even against her country.

Chegg placed the disk on her cheek.

"Why the coffee?" asked Jade, tired of
fighting.

For several seconds the keev just knelt and
seemed to be studying her face. Then he said, "I don't understand
the question."

"Why do you give me coffee? Why do you make
it the way I like it? Why does it matter to you how I like my
coffee, anyway?"

The Chuzekk shrugged. "I like coffee, and I
like it better if I share it. I make it the way you like it because
to do otherwise would be impolite."

"Impolite," Jade repeated. She shook her head
and sipped her coffee.

"Do you want more children?" he asked
quietly.

"Pardon?"

"Do you want more children?"

"That's kind of a personal question, isn't
it?"

"No."

"What do you mean, 'No'?"

"I disagree with your assessment that the
question is not personal."

"I didn't—oh, nevermind."

"I have observed that Humans often say the
opposite of what they mean. Do you like broccoli?"

"Broccoli?" she repeated, surprised, and it
came out much louder than she'd meant it to. "What does broccoli
have to do with it?"