4. “Are you a sorcerer?”
FOUR
“Are you a sorcerer?”
Herserael questioned everything about my life, from my first memory to the moment of the crash. He evaluated my education with an intensity my professors would appreciate. Halfway into being grilled on the flora and fauna of Schwana Major, a scowling Waldren stepped into the room with Palta at his side. The cat abandoned him, jumped onto the bed, and flung herself across my legs, purring loud enough I questioned if I could talk over her. Rather than try, I began the serious business of petting the feline.
She kneaded at the bed, and her purring strengthened.
“You were supposed to update us three hours ago,” Waldren announced, engaging the Veloc in a glaring contest.
The Veloc flattened his crest and hissed at the human, his feathered tail fanning. “I have been busy questioning the patient.”
“About plants.”
“It is important to establish her recall, especially considering the damage done to her brain. A thorough exercise in recollection is vital in determining mental acuity.”
Waldren stepped into the room, and the Veloc swiped at the man with his claws. With a low chuckle, he sidestepped, twisted, took hold of the Veloc’s wrist, and somehow managed to floor the predator, dumping him into the hallway. “You could have taken the five minutes to give us an update, including her revival times and if there were any complications.”
I blinked, struggling to comprehend how a human, one the fraction of the size of the Veloc, had managed such a toss. “Are you a sorcerer?”
“Sorcerers aren’t real,” Waldren replied, raising a brow my way. “But I’m not a psychic nor do I possess psionic abilities. That is a self-defense move I was taught as soon as it became clear I would not be rescuing my sister from her Veloc tormenter.”
“Husband,” Herserael grumbled from the floor before picking himself up, fluffing his feathers, and huffing at Waldren. “Husband is not another word for tormentor or torturer. I assure you, your sister is cared for and beloved.”
According to Waldren’s grunt, he didn’t agree with the Veloc.
What had I gotten into? Perhaps without the fuzziness in my head, a side effect of the painkillers and remedies meant to keep my new ears and tail from itching, I might have been able to discern something about the situation. I scratched Palta behind her ears, which she seemed to appreciate. I held up my arm, displaying the removal of the catheter and the bandage covering the puncture wound. “I’ve been told once we finish testing my mental acuity, physical therapy will begin. Physical therapy also includes trauma therapy if seeing myself with Palta’s ears has consequences.” I shrugged. “There’s also the issue of adapting to my tail and determining if I have the ability to purr.”
“Purring is a priority for her,” Herserael stated, and he stepped back into the room. “But as you are here, her revival time was fifteen minutes, although she did not become active for quite some time after. She enjoyed the sound of the white noise generator, so I let her be while she adapted.”
“You should pet him, Waldren. He’s quite soft.”
“You pet him?” the man blurted, and his eyes widened.
“I even kept both hands. That’s how I’m inevitably going to meet my end. When I opened my eyes, his muzzle was right there. Why wouldn’t I pet him?”
“He is a sentient being,” Waldren replied in a dry tone. “That alone is reason not to pet him.”
“But he was in my space. If he hadn’t wanted to be petted, he wouldn’t have put his muzzle right there. ” I used my left hand to demonstrate how close he’d been when I’d woken up.
Herserael whistled, his feathers settled, and he regarded Waldren with his head tilted to the side. “Before this turns into a misunderstanding, I needed to correct an issue with some of the hoses near the top of the bed, and that was the best place for me to get a view of the problem. I understood I ran a risk of being smacked by a flighty human. Her curiosity and general inclinations should make our xenodiversity tests rather… interesting.”
Waldren eyed me before focusing on the Veloc. “Xenodiversity is an individual trait. It is for her benefit should she prove resilient when introduced to new races. But this may change the scope of our research.”
“I have been training to leave Schwana Major from a fairly early age. I’ve been aware that I would encounter other species. For some, even the various subspecies of homo sapiens are problematic. While I haven’t had the courses for xenodiversity yet, it’s something I’ve considered for most of my life. What use am I as a researcher of biology if I run away from every species I encounter? Of course, I may need to go through remedial training. I really will die from petting something or someone I shouldn’t if I’m not careful. In good news for you, I do not typically have any irresistible urges to pet other homo sapiens .”
Waldren sighed. “Please try to avoid petting people without their permission.”
Hooting a laugh, the Veloc went to one of the walls and pressed his hand to a square panel, revealing a storage closet. He pulled out a set of folded clothes. “Go so we might finish this today. Physical therapy will take up the rest of the day. I will make certain she is appropriately fed. Go bother one of our other clan mates.”
Waldren grunted but he whistled, which caught Palta’s attention. She flattened her ears and hissed at him.
I grinned and rewarded the feisty feline with another few strokes before saying, “Go along with Waldren, Palta. I’m sure physical therapy will be worse than boring. You can keep him in line for the duration.”
While I had no idea how much the cat could understand, she hissed again but hopped off the bed. With her tail lashing, she swiped a paw at the man, who stared down at her with a raised brow. He emerged unscathed, and Palta spat a few more curses before settling into her spot at his side.
“Her methodology bears fruit,” the Veloc observed. “Perhaps you should retire to your quarters and engage Palta with her toys and give her the petting she is obviously owed.”
Waldren retreated, and I fought my urge to laugh at his surly ways. “Why is he so grumpy?”
“He grew up as part of a failed colony, and by the time my clan found him and his sister, they were both a bit wild. They were the only survivors. Now he is surly, as he was raised to be a free spirit. You’ll find his attempts to hunt Veloc amusing, I’m sure. Don’t worry about his abrupt behavior. He means no harm. He simply sees no need for the niceties of humanoid societies. He would rather fly his ship, chase the stars, and only interact with people he deems to be worth his time. His xenodiversity rating is rather low—the lowest allowed for frequent space travel, truth be told. But he is good at what he does, and if he decides he likes you, he is a worthy companion.” Leaning beyond the doorway leaving the room, the Veloc called out, “You probably taste as bad as you stink!”
Waldren responded with a snort, which drew hooted laughter from the oversized predator.
“Dare I ask?” I grabbed the folded clothes, which were in a similar style to the grays and greens the staff of the mercy ship wore but a pale tan color. Without bothering to waste the time on asking the Veloc to leave, I went to work getting dressed, wincing at the stiffness in my joints. “I’m going to need to walk this off.”
“After you eat so you are properly fueled,” the Veloc replied, keeping an eye on me as I finished pulling the garments into place. “After you adapt to wearing basic space attire, we’ll get you fitted for a proper suit. The color choices will not be ideal, but you will have some choices. Black, dark blue, a few greens, and so on. As your teachers and family indicated you become troublesome should you be permitted to become bored, we’ll be training you for doing salvage in addition to space walks.”
“Salvage?” I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“When opportunity allows, we serve as a rescue ship. When it does not allow, we fund our expeditions salvaging from derelicts. We recover ship parts, shiftgems, and so on. It will give you something productive to do, and after our voyage, you will have an additional career path open to you.” The Veloc’s crest rose. “If you wish to irritate my featherless kin, you will express interest in learning how to fly. This ship is his baby—a present from our clan for daring to steal away his sister, his only family. He does not yet realize or accept he is part of our clan. Don’t fret overly much about his general attitude. It is no fault of his, nor is it fault of yours. He came to the clan troubled, and that is the armor he wears to protect himself and his feline friend.”
I’d just assumed Waldren had been jealous I’d petted Palta. As it was no business of mine, and I needed to focus on what was important, I replied, “If he wants to be friends, he’ll be friendly. If he doesn’t wish to be friends, this is no problem of mine. I would rather focus on repaying my debt.”
“You will find that is simple enough for you to repay. Some humans can accept such a loss. Your spirit could not. We have seen it time and time again. And so, we were contacted. They identified your inability to cope.”
“I love music. I love birdsong. Most of the things I love require hearing,” I replied.
“Yes. And when such things are usually within the realm of science to cure, it would be even more damaging for you. If it had been your sight, you likely would have been able to accept the injury.”
“I wouldn’t have done well being blind.” I grimaced at the reality of my situation. “I do not wish to sound ungrateful.”
“You do not sound ungrateful. You are merely honest about yourself and your personality. Now, we will begin with a short walk to the galley, where you will sit while I make you a nourishing soup.” Herserael positioned himself so he could help me if needed. “Take your time with each step. You will be weak, and it is not abnormal for balance to be compromised after such an operation.”
“Was the link installed?” I asked, and mindful of his directions, I took care with walking. Within a few steps, I understood his concern. I’d lost a lot of muscle during the operation, complicated from the loss of fitness I’d endured following the crash. Physical therapy would keep me busy, and I’d work hard at it along with every other obstacle they tossed at me.
“Your link was successfully installed, and while you were under sedation, we tested your chips. Right now, we have it turned off, but you’ll begin your training soon. The chips were a gift from the owners of the ship that crashed on your world.”
The crash had been an accident and nothing more, but the company owning the ship had made efforts to make amends, funding a great deal of the operational expenses of the mercy ship of their own volition. Linker chips cost a small fortune—more than I would ever own in my entire life. “Oh. Please thank them for me. Did they also help cover the cost of the link?”
“They’re funding a great deal of the research on this voyage,” the Veloc admitted. “We were going to be the primary funders, as we could, but they suffered from a great deal of remorse.” Herserael patted his feathered chest with his hand. “I have some abilities as an empath, and I have some abilities to sense the truth. They were earnest in their remorse. You have been gifted with the best link money can buy and a full set of chips so you can learn without being overcome from too many inputs at once. But first, it is time to feed you—and then the voyage begins in earnest.”
Herserael’s soup contained tentacles.
In good news, after a few minutes, the tentacles no longer moved, which greatly increased my ability to choke them down. The broth itself appealed, but the idea I needed to battle my dinner baffled and alarmed me.
The Veloc hooted his laughter over my predicament, and he took notes on my reactions. “Your xenodiversity rating for sentients unlike yourself is high, but I see you may struggle with the culinary portions of the voyage.”
“Why are there tentacles?” I whispered, poking one of the clusters with my spoon. It remained still, although I couldn’t help but notice that they’d curled around a bright orange vegetable. While we had orange vegetables on Schwana Major, none of them were covered in lumps and lengthy protrusions. “Some of these tentacles had it out for the orange things in their final moments.” Setting aside the spoon, I picked up a knife and began the process of freeing the tentacles from the part of the meal I might actually like. “What are these things?”
Herserael hooted his laughter, and his crest rose. “This is an exposure experiment. This dish was found in one of the old Earth records on a generational ship. The ship also had stocked the ingredients necessary to create it, and we maintain the stock on Veloci Minor. The orange things are carrots, a root vegetable highly favored by homo sapiens living on Earth. The tentacles are from a marine creature, although we lab grow the tentacles rather than the entire animal. It’s part of medical regenerative experiments and DNA cloning work. The movement is from general stimuli to the nerves still within the tentacles. We are not precisely sure how this works as there is no centralized nervous system.”
“There’s no brain,” I deciphered, giving the tentacles another poke. “Will I starve to death if I don’t manage to eat this?”
Shaking his head, the Veloc went into the galley and brought another dish with him, which he set beside my bowl. “This should be more comfortable for you.”
I investigated the plate to discover a roasted bird of some sort, smaller than anything I’d eaten before. After freeing more of the carrots from the various tentacles attacking them and giving everything else a try, I went for the grand prize of the meal, although I took the time to investigate to make certain there were no surprises lurking within the cavity.
Following hooted laughter, Herserael said, “There are no traps or tentacles, I promise. This is quail, another Earth bird that adapted well to our world. We raise them in massive flocks, wild and domesticated, to take into space with us. The birds are small and make excellent treats for the deserving. We made certain to bring a large supply of frozen stock for you. We have shelf-stable rations for ourselves, and while nutritious, we have found that pleasurable foods enhance healing. Of course, we are testing your tolerances at the same time. You did better than young Waldren.”
A snort behind me revealed the man had come calling. “You took it easy on her. I had the entire animal, and you’d decided to merge dinner with a science experiment to determine how long the tentacles would keep moving after confirmed death. The answer to that was longer than anyone felt comfortable with. I found the experiment to be useful, however. I learned to cook so I would never be exposed to your evils again. Camellia, do not take him too seriously. If he shoves you far beyond your comfort zone, I can cook for you. Veloc have opinions when it comes to what they’re willing to eat. You do not have to eat those things. The quail is good, though.”
I grinned at Waldren’s general attitude, which blended irritation and gratitude. His words implied he resented the Veloc, but the fond exasperation in his tone hinted at another story.
Just to see what he would do, I mustered my courage, took up my weapon of choice, the noble spoon, and scooped up one of the singular tentacles, braced for the worst, and shoved it into my mouth.
The broth, which was on the spicy side, did a good job of masking whatever flavor the tentacle had, although the texture had me wrinkling my nose. I chewed, and once certain I wouldn’t gag, I swallowed. As that piece went down without attempting to murder me, I vanquished my foe, nose wrinkled the entire time. As I was wise, I saved one of the carrots for last, as I liked its almost sweet flavor. “I would like to pass on any other dishes containing tentacles. If I wanted to consume rubber, I would chew on a spaceship.”
The Veloc trilled before hooting his laughter. “Did you know rubber comes from plants? Across the known universe, there are over thirty thousand species of rubber producing plants. Veloci Minor, my home world, has a thousand common species of rubber producing plants, and we’re considered to have a less diverse stock. Earth had well over two thousand different species, and one of the generational ships had a seedbank with their variants. Many consider Earth to be of little significance in many ways; beyond its status as a premier evolvulite producer and target for planet busters, it offers little on the universal stage beyond interesting sentients. Rubber is one of the few resources valued, and Earth’s stock was completely diverse from other stocks. Earth also has a reputation for interesting culinary choices, for which we’re grateful for. We Veloc do appreciate variety. While homo sapiens are interesting enough, they’re a little like fleas. If left to their own devices and permitted to do as they wish, they become an infestation.”
I snickered; even on my world, which was predominantly homo sapiens with little interaction with other species, we had a similar joke we tossed around with glee. “It’s been well over a thousand years now, but people still tie homo sapiens with the world we cannot return to. Why?”
“It is always important to remember where you came from, and that is the birthplace of your species.” Herserael regarded Waldren, who joined me at the table. Palta hopped up onto the chair beside me and began purring.
I fell prey to the cat’s charms and put aside my meal long enough to pet her and assure her she ruled over the ship and its denizens, most of whom I had yet to meet. Once satisfied she wouldn’t feel completely neglected, I returned to my meal. “Can she have a piece of the quail?”
Waldren scowled, grunted, but nodded. “She loves hunting them on Veloci Minor. I usually buy or catch a few for her and set her loose in one of the storage rooms with a course set up to challenge her. If opportunity allows, I’ll take her to a rocky area and set loose a bird with clipped feathers so she can practice hunting.”
I pulled off a piece for her and offered it to her. To my amusement, she bared her teeth and moved with slow and deliberate care, accepting the treat.
The instant I released the meat, she jumped off the chair and ran off with it to feast.
“She’s like a larger version of a house cat.”
“Earth’s contribution of cats and dogs to the universe is truly cherished,” the Veloc stated. “And the breeds enjoyed a great deal of genetic manipulations to diversify them and improve their chances of survival among the stars. Except for one species we worked with, which had no genetic diversity and did not appear to suffer from the lack of diversity. The species still struggles, but as they have so limited genetic diversity, we experimented with them. We have successfully cloned and bred hundreds of the animals with great success and minimal genetic therapy required to keep them happy and healthy. A breed of spotted cat, quite lovely. Much larger than Palta here, but a delightfully cunning and fast predator.”
Waldren’s surly expression eased to something close to amusement. “The Veloc like any predator capable of keeping up with them at a run, and these cats can. But the animals are also not much smaller than homo sapiens , and they require a great deal of care.”
“He is trying to state they are not pets, and you would be wise to avoid petting them should you encounter them unless the animal happens to be leashed and you’re invited,” Herserael translated.
“I see. Pet a Veloc once, and I’m branded for life as an irresponsible petter of the furred and feathered among us.” I considered my statement, shrugged, and added, “It’s not an incorrect judgment. Had you corrected me with a bit of violence, I probably wouldn’t have been inclined to continue testing my luck. And because you didn’t protest, I’m going to test my luck. You should pet him, Waldren. He’s really soft.”
“As I have been dragged, while struggling and screaming, into a nest of Veloc to give my sister a hug and participate in their evening displays of affection, I’m aware Veloc feathers are soft. As I’m aware Veloc feathers can be quite plush and enjoyable, I don’t judge you for your drugged inclination to continue to pet him. Had he wanted you to stop petting him, he would have stopped you one way or another.”
“At some point, when I can comm with my family, I’m going to tell them I petted a Veloc and did not die.”
The Veloc’s whistle reminded me of a giggle. “We have muzzles for my clan we wear when distressed or ill to keep incidents at a minimum. If you wish to impress, I would be willing to wear one for you so you can show me, your new pet, off. My mate will find my behavior most entertaining. When I entertain her, she entertains the idea of new chicks. Ours are fledged and have gone to nests of their own.”
I eyed the Veloc with interest. “How do you teach them to fly? Throw them off something and see how hard they hit the ground? You don’t have wings.”
Herserael hooted, fluffed his feathers, and replied, “The younglings go on a short venture into space, use a glider, or otherwise engage in some form of activity that mimics flight. We complain early and often that we are most marvelous predators stuck on the ground.”
Waldren snorted. “Don’t listen to him. Most Veloc are horrified of traveling into space, so it’s a rite of passage for them, proving they are brave and strong enough to go to the stars. The misfortune of preparing the young Veloc for their first flight tends to be mine. I suspect that Herserael’s mother threw his egg around in early development—he is one of the few Veloc who truly enjoys going to space. The rest of the crew is one part insane, one part driven to help others. They are not quite as enthused about space travel.”
The Veloc’s crest lifted, and he mock swiped a claw in Waldren’s direction. The man ignored the feathered predator, his focus remaining on me. Later, I would take some time to think about their strange relationship. I took a small bite of the quail to determine the Veloc worked magic with food, as the skin was crisp, the meat was juicy, and the flavor enticed me enough I planned on sucking at the tiny bones until the bird had nothing left to give. “Thank you for the meal,” I said before digging in.
“It seems she likes quail,” Waldren stated, not bothering to hide his amusement over my behavior. “I was sacrificed to inquire when we can schedule our departure.”
“After the meal, so she can take some time to view her world. Please plan for a comm so she can speak with her family prior to our departure. It will be quite some time until she can return.”
“I’ll see it done. Enjoy your meal, Camellia,” Waldren replied before retrieving Palta, scooping the cat up so she wouldn’t be able to delay him, and leaving the galley.
The Veloc waited until certain the man had departed before sighing, giving himself a shake, and saying, “Please do not mind his behavior. Palta was gifted to him when it became clear to us that he struggled after his sister became part of our clan. Your situation has reminded him of the mortality of all things, and while we have taken great care to extend Palta’s lifespan through genetic manipulation, I suspect that he gets reminders he would rather not have when he sees you with her tail and ears. And he is much like you—such an injury would render him unable to cope with his life’s circumstances. He will adapt to those fears in time, I’m sure. His bubble of security has been popped. We can accomplish so much, but your situation is a reminder that we cannot truly control life and death.”
“And I live because I have an evolvulite crystal embedded in my brain at the cost of my hearing.”
“It is a clear stone, one we suspect is as perfect as such shards come. We don’t know if the stone broke or was part of the cargo, but yes. It is a life-giving stone offering you life. It defies categorization as well. It simply will not do what stones of its nature should do. When we did our tests, we searched for evidence of resonance to identify the color, and it did not respond—not in ways we expected.” The Veloc paced, and his tail lashed from side to side.
I wondered at the motion. Canines lashed their tails when excited. Cats lashed their tails when agitated.
What did the Veloc say with his body language?
“What does my crystal do?”
“We’re simply not sure. Anything that it does that might cause you distress, it stops doing. The instant resonance begins, the stone becomes inactive. We only caught this because we had so many pieces of monitoring equipment on you, searching for any changes in your brain activity. When exposed to anything that makes clear shiftgems resonate, your brain activates in the damaged sector. What we don’t know is if we can induce a state of light resonance to restore your base ability to hear.”
“You can induce light resonance?”
“We have pieces of health monitoring equipment that can, yes. Clear stones are ideal for our work. We still don’t fully understand what makes evolvulite so versatile, but we have a theory. Because you live, it lives—and it does not want to die any more than you do. We’ve known the stones are capable of bonding with a living host, but we’ve never seen it bond in such a way as you have with your stone. But the universe is a strange and marvelous place, and you add to the mystery of the wonder that is life. Take your time finishing your meal. I will go help young Waldren make arrangements for you to speak with your family—and we will brief them on what not to say or do.”
“Like gush over my new ears?” I guessed.
“Precisely, as I would like to work with you for a while to acclimate you to your new circumstances. Within a few days, you will be ready to behold yourself in a mirror. Today is not that day. But do not fear, we have been keeping your family updated with your progress, so they know you are alive and will be well soon enough.”