Wormbender's Circus

As the days passed, the warmth Sebastian showed towards Zoe, and the warmth she in turn felt towards him, wrenched her heart unbearably. She watched sadly as Casey grew more sullen, his saucer brushing silently past in the narrow confines of the ship’s living quarters. She would find herself looking with anguish at his receding back, and then into Sebastian’s face. He read the pained expression in her eyes, but not, perhaps, the guilt she felt at having - however inadvertently - broken up their working relationship.

Sebastian would see her frown, and would seek to smooth it away, murmuring, “He’ll be okay, it’ll just take him a little while to get used to it.”

Increasingly, the claustrophobic atmosphere of the living quarters drove Zoe to seek refuge in the hold, with the erg as a silent companion. Its momentary metamorphosis on her arrival, briefly adopting her shape, became for Zoe a greeting and a sign of affection which she looked forward to more and more each day. It was ridiculous, she knew, to attribute anything like emotion to an entity such as the erg: doubtless her body heat was a small additional energy source on which it could feed, but it pleased her to preserve the illusion of the erg’s reaction to her approach being a sign of welcome.

She would sit cross-legged on the ground in front of it, lost in thought, but sometimes addressing those thoughts to it out loud. From time to time those thoughts would be disturbed. There would be a slight sound behind her. The erg would adopt Sebastian’s shape for an instant. She would chase him away, hurt and perplexed, and he soon stopped following her to the hold.

Thus the Semiramis sailed on through the void, its three human occupants scarcely communicating with each other beyond a functional minimum.

The next port of call was a lonely supply station based on an asteroid, a bare chunk of brown rock floating deep in interstellar space. When the Semiramis was still a day away from it, Casey radioed ahead to place an order, and registered their credit number. Chen Hua, the station manager, called back to confirm that their credit was good, very good, and that most of the things they required were in stock.

When the Semiramis shut down her engines over the rock, Casey went to get Sebastian to help load the supplies. Zoe touched his arm.

“He’s asleep,” she said. “No need to wake him. I’ll do it.”

There was a strange look in her eye. Casey noticed that she was wearing her own clothes, and a pair of Sebastian’s boots. “Okay,” he nodded. “Here’s the checklist.”

Zoe clumped away awkwardly in the oversized boots, making her way towards the hold. Casey watched her go, his lips working as if to say something, but no sound came out. A complex tangle of jealousy, regret and guilt was constricting his throat, and by the time he was able to formulate even the word “Thanks,” she was gone.

Zoe took up her position in the hold. On a monitor she watched a small robot shuttle climb up from the supply station and approach the ship. It docked effortlessly, then the inner airlock door slid open. The first thing to appear through the connecting tube was a telescopic arm with a small box on the end. Zoe placed her ID over a window on the box, and a green light flashed, indicating that the machine had accepted that she was who she was supposed to be.

The arm was retracted, and in its place appeared a conveyor belt, which carried into the ship fresh supplies of food, spare parts, equipment and other necessary items. Zoe checked each one off as it appeared though the cargo port, and Igor ferried them away to their appropriate storage places.

The whole procedure took very little time, and soon the last item had come off the end of the conveyor belt.

“All present and correct,” said Zoe into the intercom.

“Thanks, Zoe,” came Casey’s reply.

The conveyor belt was already starting to retract into the connecting tube. Zoe jumped onto the end of it. Behind her, the inner airlock door closed silently. She was carried swiftly into the robot shuttle, and its door closed. The shuttle moved away from the side of the Semiramis, and the outer hull door closed. The shuttle had scarcely begun its descent to the supply station before Casey fired up the ship’s engines and was speeding away.

When the shuttle came to rest back in the warehouse, meanwhile, Chen Hua ambled casually towards it to recharge the batteries and check on some minor circuitry problems. He stopped in his tracks when he heard the sound of someone pounding on the inside of the shuttle, accompanied by muffled cries. He thumbed the hatch control and staggered backwards as Zoe collapsed into his arms, gasping for breath.

A few minutes later, she found herself lying on the couch in Chen Hua’s modest office, breathing oxygen through a mask.

Chen Hua was sitting at his desk a few feet away, looking at her with concern. “You okay, lady?”

Zoe looked at him and nodded. She took the mask off and hung it over the air tank that was standing by the couch.

“Boy,” said Chen Hua, relieved, “I thought I had a corpse on my hands.”

Zoe looked around. Beyond Chen Hua’s desk were glass panels, through which she could see the shuttle on a small raised platform, and row upon row of merchandise, ready to restock passing ships.

“I’m okay,” said Zoe. “Just a little woozy.”

“I’ll get you some tea,” said Chen Hua. “Just the thing to clear your head.”

He disappeared. Zoe let her head sink back on the couch and closed her eyes. She tried to banish all thought, but her mind remained a blur of activity.

In moments, Chen Hua had returned with some hot Chinese tea. She took the proffered cup, sipped, and smiled.

“That’s good. Thank you,” she said softly.

“I don’t get too many visitors,” said Chen Hua.

“Certainly not many who just drop in unannounced, eh?” said Zoe, sipping tea.

Chen Hua leant over her solicitously. “What were you doing in the shuttle?”

Zoe was caught off guard. She hadn’t had time to concoct a plausible story. “I jumped ship,” she admitted.

“Jumped ship?” Chen Hua echoed incredulously. “Lady, you picked one hell of a place to jump ship. There’s nothing at all here, except what you can see.”

Zoe shrugged. “Don’t worry. I can hitch a ride on the next ship that passes.”

Chen Hua stared at her. “Lady, you don’t know what you’re saying. Most reputable ships don’t just pick up anyone who happens to want a ride. And the disreputable ones, well, a lady like you, you wouldn’t want to ride with them.” He paused. “And in any case, you might have a long wait. This isn’t a regular shipping route. Ships don’t come by here every day.”

“I’ll take the chance,” said Zoe.

Chen Hua looked at his instruments. “Looks like you’ll have to. That ship you were on is moving out of this sector pretty fast.”

Over dinner, Chen Hua looked at her sternly. “You know, if one of my inspectors happened along and found you here, I’d lose my job.”

Zoe put her chopsticks down on the rest in front of her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I seem to be lousing things up all round just lately.”

Chen Hua examined her intently. “You want to tell me about it?”

Zoe sighed. She told him the whole story. By the end she had her head cradled in her arms and was sobbing. Chen Hua got up and walked round to her side of the table. He put his hands on her shoulders.

“Hey, hey,” he cooed.

She turned and looked at him, her cheeks flushed and wet. “I’m really sorry,” she sobbed. “I just needed to let it all out. It’s been building up and building up…”

Chen Hua stroked her head. “It’s all right. Take it easy.”

She forced a smile. “Thank you.”

“Hey,” said Chen Hua. “Your rice is getting cold.”