Damage Control - ARC (9 page)

The first time she'd been in a pod, Zuke had
practically had to drag her out of it. Then, she would have given
almost anything to get back inside. But that was before the war.
Now, she'd give anything to get out.

“You will kneel here,” said the soldier.

She didn't see any place to kneel, but still
the soldier propelled her forward. There was nothing there but a
sort of sculpture made of tangled, shiny pipes. Had Zuke’s vehicle
had something like that? She couldn’t remember.

The soldier kept pushing until her thighs
touched the sculpture, and adjusted the pipes so they touched her
shins instead, just below the knees. There were pads on the pipes
where they touched her. The soldier pushed her a little more so
that her knees bent and half her weight was on the pads. Then he
secured another set of pipes around her torso. She was locked in.
Vertical pipes on both sides of her were attached to the floor and
ceiling, supporting the whole arrangement. Otherwise, she had a
good view of half the interior of the craft. And, though she
couldn’t reach anything but the pipes, her arms were free.

A second soldier started typing with his
claws on a gray metal support-post, and the walls began to light up
with readouts. A short text appeared near the ceiling. She had seen
one like that the last time.

“What does that say?” she asked,
pointing.

“Twenty-six-pod optimal status,” answered the
soldier who was typing. Last time, the translation had been
“Twenty-six-pod propulsion failure.”

“Twenty-six-pod,” Jade repeated. “Is that
what kind of ship this is?”

“Yes. Any small, ultra-maneuverable,
surface-capable spacecraft is called a pod. Or our word translates
into English as 'pod'. It was originally used only for the
protective shell of certain seeds. This pod is version twenty-six.
Twenty-five is still used, but I don't think that any twenty-fours
are still used.”

“Probably not,” The soldier who had locked
her in the sculpture-cage studied one of the readouts. It showed a
line drawing of a body with many colored lines and symbols
superimposed on it.

Jade shifted her weight to her right knee,
just for a change, and some of the lines changed color. Curious,
she leaned on her left knee, and they changed again. She stayed on
her left knee for ten seconds and the readout stayed basically the
same, but when she put her weight back on both knees evenly, it
changed again. Meanwhile, the soldier kept looking at the readout,
then at Jade, then back at the readout again.

He had a short conversation with his
colleague in their language, the second soldier typed something on
the post again, and Jade felt the pod lift off.

“Where are you taking me to?” she asked.

“We don't know,” the first soldier
answered.

“You don't know where this pod is going?” If
there was one thing that got under Jade's skin, it was being lied
to. She really should have kept her mouth shut, though. She wasn't
exactly in a position to be mouthy.

But her captors didn't seem to mind. Instead,
they both laughed, and Jade jumped in her restraints. She had never
thought of Chuzekks being as capable of laughter.

“I know where this pod is going,” said the
second soldier, still smiling. “I'm the pilot.”

“We are taking you to a larger ship,” the
first one explained. “We do not know your destination after
that.”

Or, more likely, they didn't want Jade to
know her destination after that. But there was no point in pursuing
the subject with them. They were trained soldiers, and she wasn't
going to get anything out of them that they didn't want to tell
her.

So she'd been captured by the Chuzekks. Why?
It wasn't that she had just been in the wrong place at the wrong
time, as they say. The Chuzekks had actually sent quite a lot of
pods and soldiers, specifically for her, Jade Massilon. But
why?

It must have had something to do with Zuke.
She hadn't been intended even to know he was there. “Our meeting
was due to an error,” he had said. And now, they probably thought
she possessed some sort of secret. Well, she didn't.

But how could she convince them that she
didn't? She felt herself start to panic and pushed the thought
away, forcing herself to concentrate on the Chuzekk script
overhead. “Twenty-six-pod status optimal,” was the translation they
had given her. Or was it “optimal status”? Her eyes lost their
focus on the readout. Her head began to swim and her stomach
churned. Her face and ears felt hot. Or was it cold?

Suddenly the first soldier turned from his
readout and gave her a backhand slap on the cheekbone.

She gasped.

“Breathe!” he ordered.

By the time the pod had landed and she was
released from her restraints, Jade was stiff. While the first
soldier—the one who had slapped her—helped her out of the pod, the
second one stroked the top of her head. He seemed to be petting
her, as though she were a dog.

The pod sat in a large, windowless room along
with about a dozen other pods and one bigger craft.

Another soldier approached—a female. Jade had
seen female Chuzekks on television ever since they had taken over
the satellites, but this was the first time she'd actually met one.
Most were smaller than the males. While this one was no exception,
she was still six feet of sculpted muscle. She grabbed Jade's right
bicep, as though testing its strength. “I am Koll,” she said. “I
will take you to your room.”

“Jade Massilon,” answered Jade. “But I guess
you know that. Can I contact my family now? I need to let them know
I'm alright.”

“No,” answered Koll. “Orders. No contact to
Earth, no contact from Earth.”

“Is there any way I can appeal that?”

“Perhaps, but not today.”

Koll exchanged a few words with the two other
soldiers in their own language. Then she took Jade's arm, in what
now seemed to be the standard prisoner-escort method, and pointed
her between two rows of pods to an opening in the far end of the
huge room.

They came to a shallow ramp, and Jade
stumbled.

“You is stiff because of the garoshh,” said
Koll, steadying her. “I will help you.”

“Garoshh?”

“The rig placed around your ribcage to
immobilize you.”

“I just learned a new Chuzekk word,” said
Jade wryly. “Garoshh.” The ramp had been going up, and now it
started going down again. Looking ahead, Jade realized the floor
was full of ramps and steps, rises and hollows.

Koll laughed. “That is bad first word. Try
'shass.' It is sea.”

“The sea?” said Jade. “The ocean? Or see with
the eyes?”

“I don't know 'ocean,’” Koll answered. She
quickly pulled a small object from her left hip and spoke into it.
“Oshad,” she said to it, because she couldn't say 'ocean,' and the
object replied, “Shass.” Then she said, “Sea,” and this time the
object gave a long reply. Jade theorized that it was giving the
definitions of the words 'sea' and 'see,' and maybe also the letter
'C.’

“That's a nice dictionary you've got there,”
said Jade, hoping to continue the friendly tone as long as
possible.

“Yes,” the soldier agreed, putting the object
back on her hip. “But perhaps we rely them too much. Is called a
Personal Device.” Now that her left hand was free, she reached for
Jade's hair. “You will get Personal Device, too,” she continued as
she ran her claws through the ends of the pumpkin-colored curls.
“But yours does less than ours, for security.”

Jade's stiffness soon wore off, and she
walked with Koll through corridor after corridor, stepping up and
down on the uneven floor. Sometimes they passed other soldiers.
Finally, Koll stopped where another soldier waited near an open
door. “This is your room,” she said.

Jade had been expecting a cell, and hoping
for a cot or at least a shelf for sleeping, and a toilet. What she
saw was a spacious, well-furnished room. She could identify some of
the items she saw: pillows, a couple of high counters or low walls,
an American-brand coffeemaker, a swimming pool. Most of them, she
could not. The floor, of course, was on many levels. A soldier
waited behind one of the counters.

“You may come in,” said the soldier.
Actually, what she said was, “You bay cub id,” and for half a
second Jade heard it as “You make a bid.”

Jade entered and someone closed the door
behind her. She was alone with the new soldier, whose head-ridges
were blue. Jade wondered whether she belonged to a blue-ridged
ethnic group or whether she had painted them. Whatever their
source, the blue ridges matched what appeared to be eye shadow, and
the effect was striking. Chuzekks, in Jade's opinion, were ugly,
but this one was somehow beautiful.

The blue-ridged soldier came out from behind
the counter. “Since you are perhaps not familiar with our
accommodations, I will tell you what is here and teach you how to
use things. I am late.” She extended her hand. Her claws were blue,
too.

“If you're late,” said Jade, shaking her
hand, “we can skip the tour. I'm sure I'll figure things out.”

The soldier laughed. “I have time. Laitt is
by dabe,” she said. Laitt is my name. She stroked Jade's head.
“Here is your bed,” she said, indicating a flat disk about three
feet high and ten feet in diameter, with no blankets or pillows.
“Here is the temperature control for the bed. Or you can use a
voice command. It understands English.”

“The bed is heated?” Jade asked, and
immediately realized how stupid the question sounded.

“Yes." If Laitt thought the question was
stupid, she gave no indication of it. "Here is the pool. Here is
the temperature control for the pool.”

Jade didn't comment on the heated pool. “When
can I call my family?” she asked instead.

“I don't know. I recommend you ask your
interrogator.”

“My interrogator?”

“Yes.”

“Who's my interrogator?”

“I don't know.”

“But you know that I have one?”

“No. Rarely prisoners are captured by error
and returned without interrogation. But that is rare.”

“How do I find out who my interrogator is,
then?”

“Perhaps you will not discover who it is
before your interrogation starts. If I discover, I will tell you,
if I am allowed.”

“Thank you,” Jade replied hollowly.

“Here is your desk,” Laitt continued,
gesturing toward the counter she had been sitting behind when Jade
first saw her.

It didn't look like a desk. And it had some
strange-looking metal devices on one side. Jade didn’t like them:
they looked too much like that horrible prisoner-restraint in the
pod, the garoshh. “How do you use the desk?” Jade asked.

In one quick, graceful movement, Laitt knelt
in one of the metal devices, facing the counter. She looked like a
patron sitting at a bar. Then she stood again. “I put my knees
here,” she said, touching a spot on the device, “and here. You can
adjust it to the desired height, like this. If I will stay in this
station long, I will place this piece behind me for support when I
lean back.”

Jade tried it. The metal wasn't padded, and
it hurt her knees. She stood and glanced around the room. “I don't
see any chairs,” she said.

“There is one,” said Laitt, putting her
emphasis on the word ‘is,’ as though only one chair was to be
expected. She led Jade to a spot near the corner of the big room
where there was a shape painted in red on the white wall. Laitt
pushed on the painted shape with her hand, and it swung open on
hidden hinges. They entered a smaller room, Laitt opened another
painted-shape door and they crowded into an even smaller room.

In one corner was a triangular sink with an
overhanging lip that Jade assumed must contain the faucet. A
package of 12 rolls of toilet paper sat unopened on a shelf. Jade
recognized the brand. The only other item in the room was a round
thing that looked like a cross between a toilet and a wide-mouthed
jar. It stood only about a foot high.

“The toilet,” said Jade, “is the only
chair?”

Laitt hesitated. “Our translator is not
perfect. What is the difference between 'toilet' and 'chair'?”

“This is a toilet,” Jade answered, “and a
chair is something you sit in.”

“Something I shit in,” Laitt said. “I know
only one thing. Do you require something else as well?”

“No, that's okay. I can sit on the bed.”

“No,” Laitt answered with authority. “That is
not acceptable.”

“Sitting on the bed is not acceptable?”

“Yes, it is not. Describe what you need and I
will get it. But you must not shit on the bed.”

Jade decided not to try to explain the
difference between 'shit' and 'sit.' There were more important
things that needed explanation. She tried to keep a straight face.
“I'll just use the toilet,” she said with difficulty. “I don't need
anything else.”

“Be sure that you do not,” Laitt replied
sternly, then continued in a lighter tone, “I will show you the
shower. It has been altered so that you can breathe. I will show
you how to use the alteration.”

“So that I can breathe?”

“Yes.” By this time, they had left the little
toilet room and entered the shower room. The shower was
recognizable, though not familiar. It had a pocket-door and what
looked like water jets in the door, walls, floor and ceiling. “The
water sources have been disabled in this corner,” Laitt explained.
“When you breathe, your face should be in this corner. Otherwise,
you should...” She paused and spoke to her Personal Device in her
own language, and the rest of the sentence came from the Device in
a perky American accent: “...to hold one's breath.” She put it away
and said, “Do you require more information about the shower?”

“I'm just curious about the alterations, I
guess. Is it a height thing? Maybe I'm not tall enough to use a
shower without alterations?”