Morgan's Choice (9 page)

He was pacing, arms folded, when she
returned. Roy was nowhere to be seen. Sent to her room? He stopped
and turned to look her up and down. She felt like a junior cadet
getting the once-over from the senior under officer. Not a happy
memory.

“Better. Come. We are late.” He strode out
into the corridor, leaving her to follow.

‘Ladies first’ sure wasn’t the way of things
in this society. She tried to match his stride and was brought up
short by the hem of the shapeless tube he’d forced her to wear.
Fuck. And fuck again. He waited in the transit foyer, frowning his
impatience, as she minced her way toward him.

Ravindra preceded her into a large room with
a dark blue carpet, softly pearlescent walls and at one end a
well-stocked bar. The assembled officers stood in groups, chatting
and enjoying a pre-dinner drink. Several murmured greetings and
many directed curious stares at the strange female. Captain
Lomandra positively looked daggers at her. She gave him a bright
smile to go with the little bow. Bastard. He glowered.

“Officers,” Lomandra said.

They filed into the next room, some
depositing glasses on tables against the walls. Morgan stood next
to Ravindra, feeling like an unwilling mannequin at a fashion
parade. Or maybe a prize exhibit at a freak show.

Ravindra waited until the last officer had
entered the dining room before he moved. Morgan trotted along
behind him into a large room with a hard plasteel floor and walls
hung with battle honors and images of captains. All the officers
stood behind low chairs placed around the outside of three long
tables arranged as a rectangle with one open side. The doorway they
entered was level with the top table. Ravindra strode to his seat.
The only one vacant was between him and Lomandra. Oh, what fun.

Everybody bowed at Ravindra, who returned
the salute. Morgan made to sit down but a warning grunt from him
straightened her. Him first, it seemed. He and his officers
accomplished the maneuver with grace. She eased herself into her
seat, folding her legs as best she could, trying to copy the two
women in the room, both wearing the same shapeless gown she wore
herself. They must have incredibly powerful thigh muscles. The seat
gave beneath her weight, shifting to fit her contours. Certainly
comfortable enough, but she’d strengthen her back muscles, sitting
on these things.

An elaborate cloth covered the low table.
Each setting consisted of a two-pronged fork and a spoon with a
crooked handle, placed to one side of a bowl, and a transparent
mug. Table manners would be interesting. No knives.

The attendant poured from the jug into the
mugs and set a platter of food on the table. A mound of the cooked
brown grain she’d encountered so often down in the detention cells
was piled in the center, surrounded by selections of various items
she didn’t recognize. Orange things with tentacles, something that
looked an awful lot like a pile of eyes, green vegetables, little
blue hats, slabs of other things and something like a stew in a
bowl with its own ladle. Down in detention she’d only ever been
given a bowl full of fairly spicy food and a spoon. She waited for
Ravindra, watching what he did.

“
What should I eat,
Srimana
?” she said as he ladled grain into his
bowl.

He shrugged a shoulder. “Whatever you
want.”

He speared items of food with his fork and
transferred them to his plate. Then he put the fork down.

Thanks a heap,
bastard
. She took what
he had. Except the orange thing with tentacles. It seemed you
picked up the bowl and shoveled food into your mouth with the
spoon, just as she had in detention. She did the same, a bit of
cereal and a blue hat… Oh fuck. It burned like fire, her tongue,
her mouth, all the way down her throat. The heat seared up into her
face, brought tears to her eyes. She forced the mouthful down and
drained the mug in one huge flood. Just as well it was
water.

Ravindra regarded her with a mix of
amusement and astonishment, his spoon held above the bowl. “Perhaps
you should avoid the firehats. Or anything blue, for that
matter.”

Thanks a lot. He wasn’t the only one who’d
found it funny. Ignoring everybody, Morgan nibbled cautiously at
anything she took from the plate. The orange things tasted quite
good and the eyes were a type of vegetable with a glutinous center.
There was something that tasted fishy and a pile of some kind of
meat. Most of the dishes were spicy-hot but tasty. Except those
black slimy things that Ravindra seemed to relish. She could still
feel the one she sampled sliding down to her stomach like some sort
of worm. He could have those all to himself. But no doubt about it,
the food was a vast improvement on the nameless mess she’d been
given in the past.

Dinner over, Ravindra explained that
Morgan would be helping Hanestran with investigating the alien
ship. He answered the few questions. She drifted off mentally when
the talk turned to mundane ship matters. Prasad sat further down
the table, appraising, evaluating. At least Hanestran had offered
her a small smile, which she had returned. The two women, one
wearing the medical corps insignia, the other logistics, eyed her
with the same unfriendly distaste she’d often encountered with
female officers at home. For the rest of them, she felt like
handing out hoops for them to throw.
First to land one round my neck
gets...

Thankfully the mess dinner didn’t last too
long. She stood awkwardly, grateful to stretch her legs. She tried
to stride after Ravindra as he left the room and hit the hem of the
bloody dress. Why women put up with this crap was beyond her
understanding. They wore trousers to work in; trousers and
shapeless shirts but at least they could move.

“
Will I be expected to attend the officers’
mess every night,
Srimana
?” Morgan
asked Ravindra as they walked the last few paces along the corridor
to their respective quarters.
Srimana
. If you tried really hard, you could sneer the
word.

He stopped and looked down at her. “No. I
usually dine alone. Most times you will join me, in my
quarters.”

Oh, that was just great. Only slightly better
than being the prize exhibit in the mess. “Must I wear this?” She
plucked a piece of the horrible dress.

“Yes. And I do not tolerate unpunctuality.”
He turned to his quarters.

Bastard. Arrogant, full-of-himself bastard.
Morgan wished she could slam the fucking door.

****



Ravindra had hardly sat down at his desk
at the commencement of his day when his clerk informed him Captain
Lomandra wished to see him.

“Send him in.” He’d wondered how long it
would be before Lomandra decided to confront him.

The Captain, stone-faced as ever, entered,
stood to attention and bowed. “Admiral.”

“Captain.”

“I wished to discuss the alien female. You
have her working with Senior Commander Hanestran.” A neutral tone
so far.

“Yes. As I explained in the mess
yesterday.”

“With respect, Admiral, is that wise?”

“
If the woman can add to our knowledge of
the
Yogina
I think
it’s very wise.”

Lomandra mashed his lips.

Careful, Captain, be very careful.

“
But,
Srimana
, can we trust her? What do we know of this… person?” His
lip twisted in distaste.

“More than you might think. Sayvu may have
been a traitor but she did an excellent job of finding out about
our guests. Particularly in her delightfully frank discussions when
she thought no-one could hear. I have taken a most particular
interest and studied them both, especially the woman.” Yes, most
especially the woman.

Lomandra’s eyes flickered. Not convinced.

“As to trust, I appreciate there is a level
of risk. Bear in mind, though, we fitted emotional response
monitors which will be functional for a few days yet. In addition
Hanestran will keep a close eye on her, as will I. At other times,
Senior Commander Prasad has appointed a female officer to share her
quarters. If she proves intractable or in any way a danger…” He
moved his hand flat in a cutting gesture.

“
Yes,
Srimana
.”

“
You disapprove, Captain
?”
Of course you do but you’d better not say
so
.

“
I… do not question you,
Srimana
. A
number of senior officers have begun to ask me questions. They’re
curious.”

“I understand they would be interested. I’ll
bring her to the mess regularly. They can see her for themselves.
Have my adjutant bring me the order for Sayvu’s execution as you
leave.”

“Admiral.” A short bow.

“
Captain
.”
Ravindra turned his attention back to his screen. He heard
the door close when Lomandra left. Yes, he’d taken a risk. But
then, if the woman could help and he did not take the opportunity,
he would have failed in his duty. He wished he knew enough to
predict where the
Yogina
would
strike again.

Chapter
Ten

Morgan flicked her eyes up at the man
opposite her for the hundredth time. Ravindra seemed different
tonight, finishing his food automatically. They hadn’t even chatted
over the meal.

Over the days she’d begun to actually
enjoy his company. To begin with he’d asked many of the questions
she had already answered for Sayvu, but recently they’d moved on to
other things. They’d talked about ships and space and crews,
pirates and hijackers, the sorts of things people in the same
business could share, things she would have talked about with other
spacers in a bar or restaurant. The last few nights the discussions
had widened to sport and music.

“You seem… distracted,” she said.

He pushed away his bowl and smiled. “I have
been looking at the recordings from your ship with some interest. I
would like you to explain some things to me.”

“
Of course,
Srimana
.”

Much good it would do him. The one she’d
seen was Banstock’s kid’s birthday party. She’d shown Hanestran how
to play a data cube on
Curlew
and last time she looked they’d pointed a camera at a
screen to record what was on it onto their own media.

He placed a data stick into the reader. The
holographic images appeared on the HV in the corner.

“
It’s a child’s birthday party.” She
pointed at one of the figures, a balding young man, his arm around
a simpering woman and two curly-haired kids. “That’s Banstock, who
was the navigator on
Curlew
, with his
wife and children. The other people seem to be friends and
relations. The older people at the front are
grandparents.”

“You know these people?”

“Only him. You can pick up who the others are
from the conversation.”

He grunted an acknowledgement.

Banstock’s son unwrapped presents with
help from his grandfather. ‘
Here, Billy, let grandad help you with the
string.
’ A little girl,
Banstock’s daughter, stood to one side, looking unhappily at her
brother getting all the attention until grandma distracted her with
food and a hug. The venue looked like a normal suburban park next
to a children’s playground. A number of children were playing on
slides and swings or simply running around, while adults encouraged
a few children who appeared to be younger or less certain. In the
background, someone cooked food on a burner, laughing and joking
with a group who stood with glasses in their hands.

“This is a normal family situation?” Ravindra
asked.

“That’s right.” Morgan nodded absently. “A
man and a woman and two children with extended family.”

It was sad, really, looking at this slice
of domestic life that was now ended forever. At least Banstock’s
family would know for certain that he was dead. Tariq’s family—if
he had one—would never know what happened to him. For that matter,
she was missing in action too. Nobody would ever know what had
happened to
Curlew
.
Disappeared somewhere past Belsun Station was going to be as good
as it could get.

Who would miss her? Her parents and her
brother and sister? She hadn’t seen them in years. Coreb? They’d
had a torrid night not long before she’d left on this trip but he’d
taken a ship on an extended delivery circuit. They didn’t even try
to keep in regular contact. Romantic entanglements? No, thanks very
much.

Ravindra’s voice interrupted her reverie. “Do
these people all belong to one class?”

“We don’t have classes. Everybody is built
the same.”

“But you have been modified.”

“I’m fitted with implants and they are
integrated into my brain. Some of my genes have been manipulated.
But apart from that, my DNA is the same as everybody else’s. It’s
different with you. Your classes don’t interbreed, so effectively,
you have four species or sub species, all calling themselves
manesa. But we are one species. I expect you’ve seen where Sayvu
explained your classes to us?”

“I have. You seemed astonished.”

That was an understatement.

“
What? You’re telling me that you could
have sex with a Mirka officer with not even a chance of a
pregnancy?”