Chapter 11: Ghosts

Evan looked into the bathroom mirror, examining his face. Save for a few scratches that had already started to heal, he was in far better shape than he had any right to be. He reached behind his head, brushing his fingertips against the hard polymer that protruded from the back of his neck. It ran most of the way between the base of his skull and his shoulders, the device segmented to prevent it from limiting his range of motion. It was surrounded by scar tissue that was still raw to the touch, making him wince.

Just as the doctors had promised, he had regained all of his faculties, and the tingling in his fingers had abated after a little tweaking. He could almost have pretended that nothing had happened at all if it hadn’t been for the cocktail of painkillers and immunosuppressants that still coursed through his veins.

He splashed some water on his face, then stepped out of the tiny bathroom and into the temporary quarters that he had been assigned. The room was scarcely larger than a storage closet, with a pair of bunks for him and Hernandez, who was currently out for a checkup on his busted arm. They were scheduled to be transferred to another assault carrier soon, but it would take some time for the members of the hardest-hit companies to be shuffled around. Until then, they would remain on the Rorke.

Evan made his way over to his bunk, the mattress squeaking as he sat down on it. All the downtime was driving him crazy. He wanted to get back down to the surface, he wanted to pay the Bugs back for the attack on the convoy, but there was nothing that he could do to speed the process along. He’d already asked a favor of the admiral himself during his visit to the infirmary, and he wasn’t about to push his luck by making a stink.

What he needed was a way to take his mind off things. There were recreational facilities on most UNN ships, and they were more elaborate on the larger jump carriers like this one. The problem was, he didn’t know anybody here. It would be weird to go to a bar or a rec facility on his own, and Hernandez probably wouldn’t be back for a while.

He turned to the touch panel on his wrist, scrolling through his list of contacts. Jade had given him her serial number before they had parted ways, which meant that he would be able to contact her if he needed to. She should still be on the carrier. He hesitated with his finger hovering over the call button, then lowered it. After a few moments, he heard her voice crackle through the speakers, deceptively feminine.

“Evan? Hey, what’s up? Let me guess, the admiral wants to debrief us yet again?”

“Hey,” he replied, feeling a little foolish. Did Jarilans even have a concept of hanging out? “Nah, it’s nothing official. So, I’m pretty much bored out of my mind right now, and I wanted to know if you’d like to go get a drink or play a game of pool or something? You’re the only person I know on the whole carrier save for Hernandez, and he’s getting his arm looked at right now.”

“Oh!” she replied, seeming taken aback by his request. “I mean ... sure, I’m not exactly busy right now.”

“Cool,” he replied, relieved. “Meet me outside the infirmary – we both know where that is – then we can go find the bar or something.”

“You got it,” she replied cheerfully. “See you there in ... fifteen?”

“Great,” he said, ending the call. He lay back on the bed, staring at the underside of the bunk in the stack above him. Why did this feel more like asking a girl out on a date than seeing if a friend wanted to hang out?

Jade was waiting for him outside the infirmary when he arrived, her two pairs of arms crossed as she leaned against the bulkhead adjacent to the door. He noted that she was still wearing her tank top, the white cotton contrasting with her camouflaged shell. It gave her an odd appearance, reminding him of a girl who was wearing her boyfriend’s oversized t-shirt and nothing else. That wasn’t the case, of course. Although the skirt that she wore matched her natural carapace in color and texture, it seemed to be a piece of armor. Besides, he didn’t even know if she had anything to cover up. Her antennae twitched as he approached, Jade glancing up, her eyes seeming to lag behind them.

“Hey,” she said, raising a hand in greeting.

“Looks like your ship didn’t send you a new chest piece yet,” he said, nodding to her top.

“Nah, it has to be made to spec,” she replied. She reached down with her lower arms, gripping the hem of the garment, stretching it as she glanced down. “I don’t mind, though. I kind of like it. This material breathes a lot more than synthetic armor.”

“What do you guys wear when you’re off-duty?” he wondered.

“We don’t really do off-duty,” she said, reaching up to slick back one of her feathery antennae like a human woman might adjust her hair. She smiled, the plates that made up her face shifting. “So, what did you have in mind? I assume you didn’t invite me here just so that you could comment on my fashion choices.”

“Oh, right,” he chuckled. “Yeah, I was thinking we could go get a drink or something. There are bars and rec facilities onboard, at least according to the map I downloaded from the intranet. You guys do drink, right?”

“We can,” she replied cryptically.

“Okay. I just wanted to make sure you’re not going to get alcohol poisoning and keel over like a Borealan if I give you a jello shot.”

“I prefer sweet drinks,” she replied, standing up straight. “Ever had a peach schnapps?”

“Can’t say that I have,” he said with a shrug.

“Good,” she continued, standing up straight. “Then I’ll be able to show you something new.”

They made their way through the winding, claustrophobic guts of the carrier, Evan following the map on his wrist display. There were colored lines painted on the walls to help people navigate, too, but the place was like a maze. He had thought the assault carrier was large, but the Rorke was several times its volume. The ceiling was a mess of insulated cables and trailing pipes, access points for the machinery and electronics that ran behind the bulkheads marked with yellow warning signs. The deck was mostly made up of removable metal grates, with yet more miles of cable and piping running beneath them.

They walked past crew quarters, an expansive mess hall, and even the hangar areas as they made their way through the belly of the ship. Finally, they managed to locate one of the ship’s bars, as there were several spaced out along its half-kilometer length. For a crew of up to ten thousand, that didn’t seem excessive.

After climbing a narrow flight of stairs that led to a higher deck, they arrived at the bar, stepping through the doorway. On the right side of the room was a faux-wood counter, and behind it were rows of shelves lined with dozens of colorful beverage bottles. The glass that protected them made it look more like a vending machine than what one might find at a traditional bar, and that was kind of the point. Rather than having a human bartender sitting behind the counter, this one was staffed by a large mechanical arm. You entered your credit account number, selected the beverage that you wanted from a touch screen, and then the robot would mix it for you. It couldn’t listen to your problems, but it was programmed to prevent you from getting wasted. The crew were allowed a limited allotment of two alcoholic beverages per day, and only when off-duty, with their intake carefully monitored.

To the left of the room were a dozen booths, along with a pool table, a dartboard, and some videogame terminals to keep the patrons amused. The bar was all but deserted right now due to the ongoing invasion. There were only a couple of off-duty engineers occupying one of the booths, halting their conversation to glance over at the newcomers.

Evan and Jade walked up to the counter, taking a seat on the stools. They sagged a little under their weight, loaded with a spring system that would lower them level with the bar based on the weight of the occupant, allowing larger species to share them.

“You ever use one of these before?” Evan asked, reaching for the touch panel. It was suspended on a flexible gimbal that was mounted on the ceiling. He pulled it closer, raising the display on his wrist to scan it across the reader, unlocking the menu.

“This is actually the first time I’ve ever been on a UNN ship,” she replied. “The Constancy was built in Jarilan orbit by Jarilan Workers. It’s a little different from the Rorke,” she added with a chuckle. “If you can believe it, this ship is downright spacious in comparison. Not that it really matters, since we go into hibernation during travel. No need for mess halls and rec facilities if you’re asleep for the whole journey.”

“So, they just wake you up when you’re ready to fight?” Evan asked. “That’s gotta be disorienting.”

“I prefer it,” she replied. “I climbed into my alcove, went to sleep, then I woke up in Kerguelan orbit. No need to mess around trying to entertain myself for months.”

“They didn’t let you visit Valbara?” he continued, raising his eyebrows.

“Hell no. The Valbarans hate us. They don’t want us going anywhere near their planet.”

“Damn, that sucks,” he muttered. “Valbara was a really cool place. I get why they feel the way they do, but coming all that way only to be told that you can’t even land is kind of fucked up. You might never get the chance to visit again.”

He tapped in his order, the pair watching the mechanical arm spring to life, its servos whirring as it reached for one of the shelves. The glass panel slid back to give it access, and it caught a bottle of vodka between its rubberized jaws, bringing it down to the counter. Next, it selected a coffee liqueur, setting the bottle down beside the first. It produced a crystal glass, then filled it with ice cubes from a dispenser below the bar. With robotic speed and precision, it began to mix the drink, putting on a rather entertaining show. When it was finished, it added a glug of cream, then set the end result down in front of Evan.

“I suppose it’s faster than a human bartender,” Jade mused. “I just flash my ID, then?”

“Do you have a credit account?” Evan asked. “There’s no way to access bank information on deployments, so we transfer money into temporary banks that are stored on the ship’s intranet. That way, we can still buy stuff when we’re light-years from any inhabited planets. That’s where our wages end up until we make it back to civilization, too.”

“Oh, I don’t think I have anything like that,” she replied, her antennae drooping. “Back home, we use money when dealing with the colonists sometimes, but the hive provides everything we need.”

“Huh,” Evan mused, guiding the touch panel back over to him on its gimbal. “That’s alright, I’ll buy you a drink. It’s the least I can do to thank you after you pulled my ass out of the fire. I should be buying you the whole fucking bar.”

“That’s my job,” she laughed. “I help keep the squishies alive. Thanks, though.”

“Peach schnapps, right?”

“That’s right,” she replied, crossing her long legs. She rested her lower arms on the bar, cradling her face in the upper pair as she watched the bartender move. The robotic arm slid her drink in front of her, and she caught it in one of her upper hands, raising it to her mouth. To Evan’s alarm, her fleshy lips parted wide, the plates of her face rearranging as they opened up like a beak. The illusion of a humanoid face was shattered, a long, flexible tube extending from within. There were no teeth inside, no throat, only off-blue flesh. The azure appendage dipped into the drink, starting to suck it up like a straw.

She noticed that he was watching her, seeing the surprise in his expression. After a couple more sips, the tube sucked back into her mouth like a straw, her face returning to its usual shape.

“Sorry,” she began, those same plates moving to mimic speech. She could talk like a human, but it was all an act. She had no throat, no vocal cords, and the motions of her lips served only to sell an illusion. “I didn’t consider that you hadn’t seen a Jarilan eat before.”

“It’s fine,” he replied quickly, cursing himself for his lack of tact. “It just took me by surprise, is all.”

“We eat using a proboscis,” she explained, the plates of her face opening up again. She raised a hand, the flexible, prehensile tube of blue flesh coiling around her fingers with surprising dexterity. She continued to talk all the while, confirming his suspicion that her mouth had little to do with speaking. “We mostly eat honey provided by our Repletes, so we don’t need to chew like you do, but we can still drink liquids if we want to.”

“Then ... what are the lips for?” he asked. “Why does your mouth move when you talk if you’re not actually ... y’know.”

“We were designed to be as human as possible,” she explained, returning to her drink. “Being able to communicate with humans involves a lot more than just speech. There’s facial expressions, body language, all of these intuitive interactions that most people aren’t even aware are happening. It all requires its own wetware, too, parts of the brain evolved to process that information. We have to be able to smile or frown, we have to understand sarcasm, the tone of someone’s voice. This,” she added, gesturing to her face. “Is all so that we can interact with you in the most natural way possible.”

“I didn’t realize that you’d been ... purpose-built,” he replied, taking a sip from his glass. “I always assumed it was a natural product of being a hybrid.”

“The Queen was very invested in making us as appealing and as inoffensive as possible,” Jade explained with a dry chuckle. “Her survival depended on it. Other hives survive by evolving the most deadly weapons and adaptations, making themselves as dangerous as possible, but I’m here because mine decided that making friends with humans was the best way to stay alive.”

“Does that bother you?” he asked hesitantly, not sure if it was too personal a subject for a friendly conversation. “Being made for one specific reason?”

“No,” she replied with a confident shake of her head that made her antennae bob in the air. “I find it comforting, actually. I have more autonomy and agency than any Bug thanks to my human DNA, but I’m still part of a hive – I still know why I was born. I like knowing what my purpose is.”

“I guess that’s one way to look at it,” Evan conceded. “Most humans go their whole lives trying to find purpose. You’re born knowing the meaning of life right off the bat.”

“Well, in a purely practical sense,” she added. “We don’t exactly have a dedicated philosopher caste, if it wasn’t obvious.”

“So, if you don’t have a bank account, where the hell did you get peach schnapps?” Evan asked.

She laughed to herself, taking another sip of her drink.

“There’s a young colony growing on Jarilo, and the bar is the center of public life there, naturally. A lot of Jarilans go there to mingle and practice their human interaction.”

“And the colonists don’t mind that?” Evan asked, surprised by the idea of humans and Bugs mingling so readily.

“We joke that there are three stages of Jarilan colonist,” she began, raising a hand. She lifted three fingers, which was all she had, starting to list them off. “The first is the reaction we get from most people – anger. They won’t talk to us, they don’t want to be around us. The second is tolerance. They realize that we’re not going anywhere, so they put up with us. The third is acceptance. They get to know us, we win them over, and they start treating us like everybody else.”

“You have to go through that process with everyone who goes there?” Evan asked, his eyes widening. “That’s gotta be exhausting.”

“Everyone we meet, for the most part,” she sighed. “But, that’s our job, right? We were made to interact with humans, and it’s our mission to win over as many of them as we can.”

“Well, you won me over,” Evan added, Jade smiling at him. Even if the plates that made up her face were an illusion, he could see that the smile in her eyes was genuine.

“So, yeah,” she continued as she took another sip. “If you want to hang out with farmers and engineers, you’re going to need to pick a favorite drink. Mine is peach schnapps.”

“What’s it like there?” Evan asked.

“Pristine forests, a primitive ecosystem, practically limitless resources. It’s going to be a thriving powerhouse colony one day, we’ll make sure of it, but I’m enjoying the rustic charm while it lasts. What was it like on Valbara?” she added, glancing over at him.

“The place was like a giant preserve,” he replied. “The Valbarans live in walled cities and let nature run its course outside of them. Where we landed, it was all grassland and patches of forest. Inside the walls, it’s like a resort. The place was great, easily the cleanest city I’ve ever visited, full of people who were happy to have us there. I felt like a celebrity sometimes. People would come up to me wanting to take pictures,” he chuckled. “They’re really grateful for what the Coalition did for them, and honestly, it’s a morale boost. It’s one thing to be thanked for your service, but it’s quite another to have a kid climbing all over you trying to show you his toy Beewolf. It’s not often that we get to see the direct result of what we do and the impact it has on everyday people.”

“That sounds adorable,” Jade cooed. “Maybe I’ll get to see it one day. There are so many places I’d like to go that I can’t. Earth is another one.”

“They won’t let you go to Earth?” Evan asked, his brow furrowing.

“There’s a UNN fleet in orbit around Jarilo,” she explained. “They say it’s there to protect the planet, which is partially true, but we all know that those guns are pointed at the ground. It’s their insurance policy in case we act up. They’re very selective about who comes and goes. It’s relatively easy to move to Jarilo – the UN even offers cash incentives to new colonists – but everyone who goes there gets screened carefully. There are a lot of people out there who might want to settle a score, and the Jarilans are considered an important military asset. In theory, I could apply for a visa to travel to Earth, but I think you know how that would probably play out.”

“I’m from Earth,” Evan added. “Trust me, you’re not missing much.”

“It’s the only homeworld we have, though,” she protested. “It’s where our ancestors evolved, the cradle of humanity.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I’m half human, and nobody knows where the Betelgeusians came from,” she explained. “Even the name is a misnomer. They didn’t originate in that star system, it was just the first place the UNN encountered them. Earth is the only other planet we can trace our heritage back to.”

“I’m sure you’ll get there,” Evan replied, downing the last of his drink. “If you keep building a good reputation, one day, it’s going to precede you. You won’t have to start off on the wrong foot every time you meet someone new.”

“That’s the plan,” she sighed. “Hey,” she added, gesturing over her shoulder towards the back of the room. “You want to play some darts?”

“Sure,” he replied, sliding off his stool. “I didn’t know you’d played before.”

“Jarilo might be a backwater compared to Earth or Valbara, but our bar is very well furnished,” she replied with a smirk. “Come on, I’ll show you a party trick.”

Evan ordered a second drink, then they walked over to the table nearest the dartboard, setting down their glasses. There were five darts on the board, Jade plucking them from it one by one, using all four of her arms. Evan noted that the two engineers were watching them from their booth, but he didn’t pay them any mind.

Jade set the darts on the table, gesturing to them.

“You go first,” she insisted. “Let’s see what you can do.”

“I like to think of myself as a decent shot,” he said, picking them up. “Are we playing professional rules or just seeing who can get closest to the bullseye?”

“Bullseye,” she replied.

He positioned himself in front of the board, then started to throw. The first three strayed a little wide of the center, the fourth hit the outer bullseye, and the final one found its mark.

“Not too shabby,” Jade said, walking across the room to retrieve the darts. He stepped aside as she took his place, using her upper right hand to aim, which seemed to be the dominant one. One after another, she landed them around the outer bullseye, the last one hitting dead-center.

“Okay, that’s pretty good,” Evan conceded.

“That’s not all I can do,” she said with a smile, retrieving the darts again. This time, she held four of them at once, one dart in each of her hands. She lined them up, moving each dart independently, making tiny corrections in a way that was oddly mesmerizing. All at once, she let them fly, Evan hearing the muffled thud as they hit the board. She had arranged three of them in a triangle pattern around the bullseye, the fourth dart landing in the center. There was still one dart left, and she aimed it carefully, closing one eye. Evan watched it whistle through the air, embedding itself into the tail of the dart in the center.

She stepped back, looking pleased with herself, Evan giving her a slow clap.

“Very impressive.”

“That’s just a parlor trick,” someone said, Evan turning to see one of the engineers rising from his seat. “Darts isn’t a game about hittin’ the bullseye, it’s about being precise with your score. In fact, if you hit another dart like that durin’ a real game, you wouldn’t rack up any points at all.”

“Sounds to me like someone thinks he can do better,” Jade replied, her tone playful. Evan was wary of the strangers, but Jade’s enthusiasm was infectious. Despite how often people judged her by her appearance, she was still eager to make new friends, gesturing for the engineer to approach.

The man set down his glass on his table, then straightened his yellow coveralls, making his way over to the board. He walked over to their side with the darts in his hand, Jade ceding her place to him.

“We’re playing 501 up,” he said, lining up his first shot. “We start with 501 points total, and whoever gets their score to zero first wins. Three darts per turn.”

“I know how to play,” Jade replied. “You want to make it interesting?”

“Wouldn’t be a challenge if there were no stakes,” the surly engineer replied. “The loser pays for the other party’s drinks.”

“Deal,” Jade replied.

Evan pulled her aside, keeping his voice low so that the engineer couldn’t overhear him.

“Jade, you don’t even have a bank account!”

“Don’t worry,” she chuckled, giving him a reassuring pat on the arm. “I won’t lose.”

They turned back around, watching the engineer throw his first dart, his friend cheering him on from their booth. After a few rounds, it was clear that Jade had superior accuracy. It wasn’t really a fair competition, not when she had been genetically engineered to be a crack shot. She switched between arms so readily, shattering Evan’s previous assumption that she had a dominant one.