First Flyght – Chapter 13

After spending some credits, I catch a shuttle up to space dock and then wind my way through all the corridors to make it back to the Amagi.

Where I’m safe.

For the time being.

Now to get lost in something else I love to do. Cook. I change out of my fancy clothes, back into my serviceable sweats, and make the galley my home. Chopping and thinking, thinking and chopping — it should be illegal to think this much. My thoughts swirl while I’m frying vegetables in the galley’s wok, all picked up in the farmers’ market before I returned from Palo Alto. Before I know it, the protein printer beeps and out pops the main course for dinner, shredded chicken, piping hot. The time flew right by, and dinner’s almost ready.

“What’s cooking?” Lia asks, entering the galley. She heads to the coffeemaker to refill her cup after dropping a plate off in the dishwasher.

“I’m making dinner for everyone. A little chicken Kung Pao, rice, and dumplings.”

“Smells amazing.” Lia’s eyes alight with happiness. She grabs her coffee mug and comes over to take a deep breath over the wok. “I’ve been relying on the frozen meals and fresh eggs from the girls with hot sauce for the past few days.”

I poke at the ingredients in the wok. “Are they laying eggs? I had wondered if the trip was too stressful for them.”

“Oh, they’re grand, happy little things,” she says with a giggle. I look sideways at her. If I didn’t know her any better, I’d suspect she was high, but she doesn’t seem like the type. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I vaped plenty of weed in college to unwind. I liked it a lot better than beer, and I could grow it myself. “They love being aboard. Sally, on the other hand, is having trouble settling in. We probably should’ve brought another pig instead of the goat.”

“But then we wouldn’t have milk,” I point out, adding the printed shredded chicken protein to the wok.

“And cheese,” Lia says, licking her lips.

“And ice cream. The beauty of space is the coldness we can use to make ice cream.”

I’m grateful for the five minutes in which I can talk about anything other than my interview failure.

“I hadn’t thought of that! How can we do that?” she asks, completely enthralled in the conversation.

I laugh and realize I haven’t laughed in a really long time. “I’m not sure, but I’ll figure it out.” I wink at her as she nods and her eyes focus on a spot far away.

“I need to find out how to make the goat happy now. Maybe she’s lonely. I think I’ll let her sleep in my room.”

“Only if you really want to. Sally can be destructive. Goats will eat anything. The duck slept in my room the other night, and I regretted it.” I turn down the heat on the wok. It’s time to add the sauce I made. I grab it from the fridge and then peruse the hot sauce collection. My father is a hot sauce connoisseur. He collects them from every world he travels to and has even made some of his own. Growing up with a hot sauce maniac made me one too. Almost everything, except waffles and a few other sweets, tastes better with hot sauce. It’s an addiction.

I read the labels on each one and grab the ‘Happiest of Hot Sauces.’ I grin at Dad’s handwriting. This is a new flavor.

“When will it be ready? Do you want me to go get everyone?” Lia jerks her thumb over her shoulder as her eyes zero in on my hands. “Oh, I had that hot sauce today with a few hard-boiled eggs. It’s awesome,” she gushes. “Really good. I need to figure out how to buy it.”

“It’s Dad’s hobby. Ask him for some next time we’re home. But it looks like we have enough for a while.” I dump my Kung Pao sauce in the wok and add a few drops of the Happiest of Hot Sauces. Skylar loves spicy foods, and I suppose Lia does too. But I’m not sure about Marcelo or Carlos, so I keep it light. I dig around in the cloth bag I used for groceries and find nuts to add to the dish as well.

“Captain Kawabata,” Ai’s voice chimes in over the ship’s speakers. I jump and drop my chopsticks. “Skylar would like to know what that delicious smell is, and if dinner is almost ready, darling. If I had a nose, I think I’d be in love.”

I say three prayers for the lives I just lost being scared to death by my talking ship.

“You’re already in love with everyone, Ai. Tell Skylar to get her butt down here.” I pick up the dirty chopsticks and toss them in the sink.

“Yes, Captain,” she purrs.

“Can you please call me Vivian?” I ask, raising my voice. “I doubt I’ll be captain of this ship for much longer.”

“Oh, Captain, my captain. Why?” she asks. Lia giggles as I hand her a stack of bowls.

“None of your business.”

I pop open the rice cooker, one of the many true conveniences ever invented by man, fluff up the rice, and bring the whole pot to the table. I add the stir-fry to another bowl and grab the hot sauce for everyone, too, but as I’m setting the table, my stomach turns into a lump of clay.

It’s time to face the music.

Skylar comes clomping into the galley. “Whatever that is, it smells amazing.” She bends over and removes her boots, setting them to the side before approaching the communal table. “Need help?” she calls to me, back in the kitchen.

“Nope.” I return to the table with the dumplings, bowls, and chopsticks. “Is Marcelo back yet?”

Skylar doesn’t answer me. Instead, her jaw drops and she rounds the table. “Ho-ly shit, Vivian. You look ravishing.”

“Stop,” I tell her, rolling my eyes. “It’s nothing.”

Lia blinks a few times. “You do look a little different. Did you change your hair?”

Did I change my hair? My God, it took four hours to get my hair like this. Plus I had my eyebrows micro-bladed, my face shaved and derma-blasted, my legs, arms, bikini, and underarms waxed. I basically had my entire outside peeled off like an onion to reveal the new and shiny Vivian underneath.

“No, my hair’s the same,” I deadpan.

“You stop.” Skylar admonishes me with a smile. “You even got your nails done, as short as they are.”

I smile at the subtle baby pink color I chose for my nails. “Yeah, I can’t have long nails. They just get in the way.” The nail tech was so disappointed. He wanted to add length and put on these 3D pearls and crazy amounts of lacquer. No, thanks. I’m too practical for all of that, though it is pretty.

“Marcelo isn’t back yet, but he will be soon,” Skylar says, grabbing her bowl and chopsticks. “Set aside a bowl for him, just in case.”

Before Skylar can ask me any other questions, I encourage everyone to sit and start eating. Carlos slopes in from his den of technology, leaving his shoes at the door too. With the lights low and turned to the subtle orange setting, the dining area feels welcoming and almost like home.

Everyone helps themselves to the meal I made, adding extra hot sauce, and humming their pleasure. I listen to their stories instead of telling them my own about my disastrous day. Eventually, someone is bound to ask so I try to make myself small and unnoticeable. I poke at my meal, suddenly not hungry, which is strange in and of itself. I usually eat my stress away, but this isn’t just stress. This is disappointment. This is fear. Two emotions I’m not well acquainted with.

Two emotions that will rule the rest of my life now.

I should get used to them.

But far from talking myself up and making myself deal with things like an adult, I want to climb into bed, pull the covers over my head, and cry.

Right in the middle of Skylar giving her report of all the places she’s visited at space dock, one of the dark brown chickens strolls in from the cargo area, jumps up next to me on the bench, and climbs into my lap. No one notices until she peeks her little head over the lip of the table and surveys the crew.

“Aw! Look! Hedwig likes you!” Lia’s happy voice climbs an octave as she gazes across the table at the clucking chicken.

Carlos laughs, a big smile on his face. “You must be the chicken whisperer, Captain. They hate me.”

“No, they don’t,” Lia croons, playfully smacking him on the arm.

“Yes, they do.” He smiles back at Lia, and I look sideways at Skylar. Are we witnessing a burgeoning romance here?

But Skylar is all smiles too. “I just love having animals on board. Especially the chickens.” She reaches over and pats Hedwig’s head. Hedwig gratefully clucks. “I love that they’re free range. I wish we could keep them like that.” She stands up and helps herself to more food. “Mmmm, this is so good, Viv. Best food I’ve had in months.”

“Really delicious, Captain,” Carlos agrees. “I’m not used to seeing women cook. None of the women in my family ever cooked. Who taught you?”

“My dad did. He thought the skill might come in handy someday though my mom is the worst cook in the world.”

He laughs. “Mine too.” Craning his neck higher, he glances at my bowl. “Not hungry?”

“Not really,” I say, sighing.

“Can I eat it?” he asks, and Skylar laughs.

“No, you cannot eat it. That’s Vivian’s,” she says, pushing my bowl away from him, but I pick it up and give it to him.

“Please, feel free.”

He grabs the hot sauce and covers my meal with it before digging in. Lia and Skylar add more hot sauce to theirs, and Skylar looks at the label before setting it back down on the table.

“Happiest of Hot Sauces is right. This stuff is great.”

I pet the chicken in my lap and calculate how much longer I should sit here before I can excuse myself and go back to my room. No sooner have I made the determination that three minutes is my optimal time when Ai clears her non-existent throat.

“Ladies and gentleman, Marcelo’s shuttle has docked with the ship.”

“Did you just clear your throat?” Skylar asks, and she laughs again, causing both Carlos and Lia to dissolve into giggles. “That is the funniest thing I have ever heard! An artificial intelligence clearing its throat?”

What is up with everyone today? It’s like they all had the best day ever, and I was totally left out.

“Don’t you have a chime or something to alert us to your impending announcements?” Skylar asks.

“Or maybe a horn?” Lia asks.

“More like a moan or a satisfied sigh,” Carlos mumbles, then everyone breaks into giggles.

“I’d be happy to chime from now on,” Ai says, not caring in the least that the humans are making fun of her. But do these AI really care? I have no idea.

“Hello, everyone.” Marcelo steps into the room and slips off his shoes. As usual, he’s dressed in a dapper suit, but his expression is grave, his lips flattened. I wouldn’t say he’s actually frowning, but it’s close. “What’s going on here?”

“Vivian made dinner, and it’s awesome.” Skylar pops more food into her mouth. “Sit down and eat with us. We saved you a bowl.”

“Thanks. I’ve already eaten. Looks delicious, though.” He makes eye contact with me. “You made this, Vivian? It’s so rare I see women cook nowadays.”

“Yep, uh, yes I did. I actually like to cook. I know it’s not typical or anything, but…” My voice trails off. I stand up to approach him. “Can we go talk somewhere else?”

“Oh!” Skylar jumps forward in her seat. “I forgot to ask how the interview went today!”

Caught. Marcelo’s expression is tight. He knows, and he was hoping to talk to me about it in private. But this is something I can’t, shouldn’t, hide from Skylar. She depends on me. They all do. I look at these three people, my crew, happy and full of food I made them, and I can’t believe I’ve already failed them.

I’ve been the captain of this ship for less than a week, and I’ve already failed my crew.

I sit back down and ground my hands on the table.

“The interview went pretty well. They seemed to love our ship, and our mission, and our crew. They want us to hire an engineer and a nurse or doctor, but it wasn’t a stumbling block…” My voice dies off as I realize I’m leading them in the wrong direction. I sound like a professor giving feedback to a touchy student. Sweetening the shit doesn’t make it any less shitty.

“Ultimately, though, they turned us down.”

Everyone pauses, and Skylar blinks her eyes a few times. “Say that again?”

My throat is so dry, it would take liters of water to bring it back to life. “They’ve denied us a permit.”

“What?” Skylar jumps to her feet. “Don’t they know who we are? My mother has been running corn all over the Duo Systems since before that bastard Mata was born!”

Well, now I’m reminded that Skylar and Ken never got along.

I hold my hands out. “It was the animals.”

“The animals? What’s wrong with a few chickens and a goat?”

I shrug. “Something about a client being attacked and now their insurance is sky high. I told them we’d bring the animals back to Ossun, but they still wouldn’t give me the permit. They advised me to come back and try again, but they have a three-month backlog now.”

“Three months? Three months?” She repeats, raising her voice. Carlos and Lia shrink away from Skylar, but her hot temper is something I’m used to. I merely cringe. “We’ll be dead in the water by three months. We’ll have to return to Ossun and put the Amagi in space dock because we won’t be able to afford this fancy shit we have now.”

“I know, and it’s a setback. But I promise, we’ll come up with something,” I assure her, though I’m talking out of my ass. I’d rather her cool down, and we handle this like adults. I love Skylar, but her temper is all-consuming. I can practically see the smoke coming out of her ears.

“This is bullshit,” Skylar spits out before turning and stomping away.

Once she’s gone, Marcelo turns to me. “And that’s why you’re the captain of this ship, and she’s just the pilot. I spoke to my contact at Flyght today after your interview. They were quite pleased and impressed with you. You answered all their questions professionally, and they were ready to hand you the permit.” He sighs as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I should’ve been more on top of what’s going on there. I should’ve known about the animals and prepared us. This is one-hundred percent my fault.”

Carlos and Lia both get up from the table, each grabbing a dish. “Sorry, boss,” Carlos says. “Lia and I will take care of the dishes.”

I nod as he slinks past.

“Now I know why you weren’t eating,” Lia says, grabbing more bowls from the table.

With the happy mood gone, my failure feels even grimmer.

“What now?” I ask Marcelo. “This was supposed to be our main job, how we made most of our money to help my parents buy back the farm. I have no idea what to do now.”

I sink back to the table and rest my head in my hands.

“I’m not sure.” Marcelo’s voice recedes from the room. “We’re all going to need to think and be creative. Sleep on it. Maybe something will come to you with some rest.”