Chapter Twenty-Three

D ante sighed as Ter huffed. "I do not need to learn any of this." He pushed a tablet off the table, the computer clattering against the floor. Dante expected Ter to show more respect for a computer, but it was a child's console, something appropriate for Ter's supposed new status.

Hopefully he wouldn't break the Kowri engines to prove he had the ability to.

The hair at the corners of Optol's mouth stuck out like a tiny paint brush with broken bristles. "I am responsible for teaching you respect for the temple," he said, keeping control of his temper.

Dante wondered who Optol a'Setir had angered to get this job. This felt like one of those punishments that bosses and teachers dished out to whoever was in the doghouse. Dante had put his foot down though, insisting he act as the second "father." Bekdi had argued vociferously, but Sared a'Gavd was the senior elder on the ship, and he seemed unwilling to anger Divashi. As long as Ter had lessons in temple etiquette and Kowri social structure, he allowed Dante to insert himself into Ter's "family."

Ter's elbows stuck out farther. "I know everything I need to. Kowri are illogical creatures with no respect for the autonomy of others."

Optol looked at Dante, who could only shrug. "Give me a minute with him," Dante requested.

"Happily." Optol a'Setir strode out of the room, his back stiff and the hair on his neck standing on end. Unless Dante missed his guess, he was going to march straight up to the temple and demand to be reassigned. Or have Ter reassigned.

"You could try to play nice," Dante said.

Ter grabbed the console off the floor and pried off the back with a fingernail. He brought it close to his face so his nose was almost touching it. "Your use of the term ‘play' in this context shows an inability to process rational thought. Are you personally defective or are huumans incapable of using precise language?"

Dante sighed. "I would like to learn about the gods. These people have so many I can't throw a stick without hitting three of ‘em."

Ter glanced up from his examination of the disassembled computer. "Do you have reason to believe three Kowri gods are currently observing us?"

"It's a saying."

"Yes, I heard you say it. That is why I am asking. How can you tell that you are the subject of their observation?" Dante avoided the urge to beat his head against the desk he was sitting on.

He didn't have a chance to explain what he meant by "saying" because a shudder tore through the ship. Dante slid off the desk and fell to the decking. "What the hell...?"

Ter bolted to his feet and headed for the computer Optol manned when he programmed Ter's smaller handheld computer for the day's lessons. "He is not going to like you touching that," Dante warned. Two days ago, the terms of Ter's "Father's Years" had been spelled out in very specific terms, and touching adult consoles went on the no-no list.

"That's not good," Dante said as another shudder went through the ship. He could feel the vibrations through his feet despite the slight give in the floor.

"You are a moron," Ter said with certainty. "An explosive charge has damaged the forward shields."

Dante looked over Ter's shoulder. "That's not good."

"That is an underreaction, but your stupidity is dwarfed by the deplorable logic employed by these useless, fur-ridden, brain-rotted excuses for a sapient species."

"Um... what?"

Ter whirled around. "We are continuing to move forward, and I have identified a Belfin minefield in our path."

The blood left Dante's face. He fumbled as he reached for his communicator. "Exalted Dante with information for Exalted Sared a'Gavd." No response. Sared was the closest thing the Kowri had to a captain, so she was probably busy right now. All the exalteds were likely busy. "Exalted Dante with information for senior technician Gior a'Gavd," he called. Silence answered him, and panic started to crawl up his throat.

Ter was muttering about the intellectual failings of xenophobic simpletons, and Dante did not protest. Dante tried one last person—an exalted who made Dante uncomfortable both because of her god and because she had an unhealthy fascination for him and Ter. She made him feel like a zoo animal on exhibit.

"Exalted Dante with information for Exalted Kagiy a'Oba."

This time the communicator beeped. "Exalted Dante. The temple is awash in interesting stories," she said in a disturbingly cheerful voice. Dante suspected that the exalteds chosen by the Goddess of Storytelling were a little odd.

"The ship is navigating into a minefield."

"We will be fine. This is inferior technology created by minor species," she said in a voice that hovered between calm and condescending.

"We will not be fine," Ter shouted at Dante's ear loud enough to make him flinch. "These mines will divert the ship's energy and leave us without heat or engines."

That sounded... not good. Dante swore he could feel Divashi's fingers on his soul.

"Our technology is superior," Kagiy reassured them.

"You inbred, fluid-filled sac of–"

"I must go. So many stories to record." She disconnected the communicator, leaving Dante and Ter staring at each other.

"Is it that bad?" Dante asked.

"Yes." Ter grabbed the tools Optol had left on his desk and the rough map a nameless assistant had provided them and stomped toward the door. They weren't supposed to leave Optol's quarters without an escort, but it did seem like the Kowri had bigger problems than two rogue passengers.

"Where are we going?" Dante asked as he followed.

"Ships must be logical, even if Kowri possess less logic than the bacteria that inhabits their inadequate gut," he snarled.

Dante didn't dare ask more. He followed Ter to a lift leading to a far less decorated section of the ship. Ter stalked the corridor ahead of Dante, ripping open every door they passed. Most of them weren't locked, but maybe Kowri didn't have to lock each other out. Or maybe these doors were monitored and an exalted would come charging out of some side corridor.

"What are we looking for?" Dante asked as they passed another junction and Ter started pulling more doors open.

Ter jerked on another door, this time a locked one. "There has to be a local control room. If it's behind one of the locked doors, the chances of us emerging from this with our lives intact is abominably low."

"We survived a black hole," Dante said. The ship shuddered again.

"A black hole is not malicious. It doesn't not seek out ships, latch onto the hull, and siphon off energy. A black hole would not coordinate an attack, and the ship that is our current source of oxygen and heat would not be dying faster with each new mine that latches on!" Ter was shouting by the end, and a cluster of impacts made Dante clutch the wall to keep from falling down.

Ter whirled about, his scarecrow-like limbs flailing in every direction. "If your goddess has led us into a trap, I will find a way to identify whatever she calls a body, gut her, and leave her incorporeal entrails for others to view with disgust and horror."

"Disturbingly specific."

Ter returned to his self-appointed task of searching this corner of the ship. He punctuated each jerk on a door handle with another muttered curse, each more vivid than the one before. They'd been searching for fifteen or twenty minutes before another shudder rolled through the decking.

"Found it!" Ter's voice sounded like a battle cry. He dashed into the room and ran his skeletal fingers across the controls with the same reverence another might touch his lover. Dante blushed watching.

"Now to figure this out so I can secure this level. If the rest of the ship dies, I refuse to die with them." Ter pulled a chair over and perched on the edge as his hands danced across the controls. Dante didn't dare ask if the Kowri left their systems unsecured or if Ter was breaking into their computer. He wasn't sure which was worse, but he wasn't dumb enough to interrupt Ter long enough to ask.

"Or we could save everyone."

Ter scoffed. "Unlikely. You would need to disrupt each mine with an electrical weapon in close quarters."

Dante stood next to the open door and watched the corridor. The plain narrow passage looked more like a human-built ship than a Kowri one. Most Kowri passages were large enough for sacred animals to wander the ship with decorated trim and enameled colors depicting scenes from nature. People could have picnics in the hallways without impeding the flow of traffic, but this section was different.

It was colder, and the lack of decoration made it feel dangerous. Either that or Ter's dire warnings had left him paranoid and anxious. That was possible.

Dante heard footsteps pounding down the corridor before a young Kowri came running. "Hey!" Dante shouted.

The boy jerked, startled enough that he slid on the floor–not an easy task given the textured surface–and then hit the far wall. "What... Who?" He stared at Dante. "What is ‘hey'?"

"A term used to get the attention of others," said Dante. "Why are you running?" If he was on some critical task, he didn't want to distract him.

The Kowri hunched his shoulders, which made him seem even younger. He was as large as an adult, so Dante guessed he was the equivalent of a teenager. "I dislike this section. It's the shortest path to my family's area, but I like to get through it quickly."

That sounded more like a kid. "Do you know where the emergency supplies are?" Dante asked. The first thing the pirates had taught each slave was where to find emergency supplies and how to secure the dops. They didn't value human life, but they wanted to ensure the dops survived any crisis. The dops. Crap. Peaches had been too sleepy and lazy to come with him this morning, so she was still tucked into a corner of his quarters. If he lost his girl, he was going to kill every blasted exalted on this ship... right after letting Ter use his most creative profanity on them.

"Of course I do. I'm not a child," the Kowri said in such a universal tone of indignation that Dante was transported to his own childhood. He'd perfected that exact voice as a young teen determined to make his father miserable.

"Can you show me?"

The Kowri eyed him with suspicion. "Shouldn't you know where they are?"

"I don't remember," Dante lied. They should have been shown, but the Kowri were too arrogant to fear disaster. Dante was going to make them read about the Titanic . Kagiy would probably love the story. "I need you to show me where I can find supplies, weapons, anything of that nature."

"Space suits!" Ter shouted. "If the ship loses atmosphere, your lungs will rupture and you will die in minutes. Even if you are smart enough to breathe out to prevent the pressure differential from killing you, oxygen breathing species all have membranes for oxygen transfer that will hemorrhage the vital gas when exposed to vacuum. That generally leads to death within seconds as your membranes fail, so if you go in search of supplies, search for a space suit first. You will be of no help lying in the corridor writhing in pain as you die with bodily fluids leaking from every orifice."

The Kowri boy stared at Ter in mute horror.

Dante sighed. "He exaggerates, but I do need to find a space suit. We should get you into one as well."

"The alarms haven't sounded." The Kowri's ears folded back until they were pressed tight against his skull.

Dante caught the boy by the arm and guided him out of the room. "No harm in being prepared. The gods might be providing a little challenge." The boy's eyes grew larger and his skin whiter. Kowri knew how dangerous their gods could be, so that wouldn't have comforted him.

Dante tried again. "Ter can protect this level. Let's get to the emergency supplies and then you can get your family and bring them back to this level. Now, where are those supplies?"

The boy studied Dante's face. He was almost as tall as Dante but this close, Dante could see the roundness in his face that suggested that he was young... too young to be in this ship while alien mines tried to destroy them. He swallowed. "This way." He turned, and Dante closed the door on the control room before he followed. The corridors were eerily quiet as the young male led Dante to the room where racks of thick, gray space suits were organized by size. "We're not supposed to touch these."

"Except in emergencies. The other adults don't understand it yet, but this is an emergency. We both need suits, and then you need to show me where to find weapons."

The kid took a quick step back. "Weapons? Why?" He projected his fear and Dante wished he had time to reassure him, but he moved to the racks, searching for a suit that would fit him from the enormous racks.

"The engineer can show me how to disrupt the weapons that are attached to the hull if I have an energy weapon," he explained. At least, he hoped so. He reached for a suit, but the boy came over and pressed his hand against an indented square. The suit at the front of the rack turned and the back opened.

"How?" the boy asked.

"I have no idea. I'm not an engineer."

The Kowri boy looked at him oddly, but maybe Dante had said something right because he went to the smaller suits and chose a row, pressing his hand to that indent before stepping into the suit.

The second his feet settled into the boots, the fabric tightened around them, and then the rest of the suit did the same, adjusting to him so that in seconds he was in a space suit that fit well except for the gloves that had a sleeve for an extra thumb on the opposite side of his fingers. That bit of fabric dangled.

"Good, now you need to show me where the weapons are. Can you do that?"

The Kowri straightened. "Yes." He headed for the door, hit his shoulder on the edge of the entrance, spun himself around and fell to the floor.

"Are you all right?" Dante hurried to him as fast as he could with the stiff fabric wrapped around his arms and legs.

"I would consider it a favor if you pretended that you did not see that," the boy said, his voice muffled by the suit.

"I can do that." Dante helped the boy back to his feet and then followed him back into the corridor. Two doors down, the boy stopped again.

"This is the weapon section. I can't open it, but adults assigned to the ship can."

Dante took a deep breath. Right. If the acolytes who served in the temple had done their jobs and recorded him as an adult, the door would open. Otherwise, they were all screwed. Dante pressed his hand to the door's indented square, the one that looked like the one in the space suit room. It slid open.

Dante sent up a quick prayer of thanks. That was step two of about fifty that had to happen if they were going to survive. Dante had not survived months of slavery and torture, fought his way out of the wilderness of a Kowri world and confronted aliens that terrified him only to die before finishing his first date with Regi. That was not how his life would end. It wasn't. He would come back from the dead and haunt Divashi until he drove her mad if she ever thought about letting him die this way.

"Can I go now?" the Kowri asked.

"Go. Get your family," said Dante. The boy lifted his hands toward his head as though he was trying to do the traditional farewell gesture, but the suit was too stiff. He turned and clomped his way down the corridor, hopefully to evacuate this area.

"Do you have a weapon yet?" Ter's voice came through the helmet. Dante shrieked and might have fallen down if he hadn't hit a wall.

"Why are you screaming at me?" Ter demanded.

"How did you connect to my communicator?" Dante asked while his heart rate slowed.

There was silence for a few seconds. "Does your species lack a sufficient taboo against incest?"

"What?"

"I am an engineer. Have you found a weapon?"

"I'm in some sort of weapons locker now, but I don't recognize anything well enough to know what I'm looking at."

"You are useless." Somehow the simple insult devoid of Ter's flare for dramatics and elaborate metaphor felt even more cutting than usual.

"I see three different types of weapons, but I don't know how to use any of them." With the largest weapon, Dante wasn't even sure which end a person should hold. It looked like a snow globe on a skateboard.

"Must I do everything?" Ter snarled.

"If you want it done right, possibly," Dante said, mangling one of his father's favorite sayings. That earned him a few minutes of silence. Then Ter told him to find something, but he used descriptive terms that made the translator buzz with untranslated terms.

"You need to use simpler words. I don't know which weapon to pick up."

"You are useless," Ter snarled.

"I've heard that since I was four years old, so I'm starting to think the universe might agree. However, I still don't know what weapon to use."

That inspired more cursing before Ter said, "The end has a flat plane that has been evenly curved inward."

"A dish shape?"

"Dishes come in as many different shapes as sentient creatures have mouth forms," Ter snapped.

"Um, dish-shaped means round and then pressed down in the middle to form an even curve."

"Fine! Dish-shaped. Find the dish-shaped tool! Pick it up before I come down there and personally introduce the dish shape to any orifices that might be large enough for me to introduce the dish shape into them. Do you have it? Have you picked up the dish-shaped weapon?"

"Yes. Got it." Dante stayed quiet and respectful as Ter explained the basic function and firing of the weapon based on the instructions he had found in the computer.

Dante hoped the Kowri started panicking a little, enough to do something about the mines, because he was starting to think that he and Ter did not make a great tactical team.

If Divashi expected them to save the ship, she might be one disappointed goddess. Maybe she realized she had backed the wrong horse and she had help on the way, but until someone (hopefully Regi) could arrive, he listened to Ter, armed himself, and moved toward the hull to do what he could to protect the ship and all the idiotic Kowri inside who didn't know they were about to die.