"Behind every being in such ’detritus’ usually lies some kind of personal tragedy," Cofort said in a quiet voice. "People, especially those so young, seldom choose a life beyond the law. They are usually driven to it." The doctor shook her head. "Tooe did mention she lived in a creche when she
was very small, but they threw her out for nonpayment."
Jellico grunted. "Rigelian. they don’t take kindly to hybrids. If her other parent was a spacehound and thought he or she’d make it back, but didn’t, that might explain the nonpayment."
"But not why a small child was thrown out to live hand to mouth," Van Ryke growled. "The name ’Harmonious Exchange’ seems to fit this canister less every hour we’re here."
The captain frowned for a long time, during which no one spoke. Then he surprised Dane by looking up at him. "What do you think we should do with her?"
Dane rubbed his jaw, trying to think. He hated the idea of any of the others thinking him sentimental, but the more he heard of Tooe’s story—if it was true—the more it reminded him of his early years in the Federation Home. Of course no one had thrown him out, but there had been times he’d half wished they would, so bleak was the life there, with the constant hard work in order to strive for the grades that would get one into the Training Pool, and thence to Service, and the constant reminders about how grateful the orphans should be for their free education and board.
He felt that if she spoke the truth, she deserved a fair chance at a decent trade, just like he’d had. So he said, "I’ll take charge of her for now, if you like."
"I’ll help," Ali spoke up, which surprised Dane. It seemed to surprise the others as well, for there were lifted brows and questioning glances, to which Ali returned a wry smile and an elegant shrug. Dane remembered what little he’d heard about Ali Kamil’s past, and realized he probably felt the same as Dane.
"And I," Rip Shannon said, with his easy smile. "Thorson and I dead-ended on our search, anyway."
Jellico grunted again. "That was my next question." He dropped his hands onto his knees; Dane could see the muscles in his leg bunch as they compensated by curling up under the bench he was seated on to cancel the reaction of his gesture. "Well, then, let’s try this. You boys take charge of this stowaway. If she offers you any trouble, any at all, or lies to you, then over to the Monitors she goes, corrupt or not. I won’t have a troublemaker
on board, especially now. But if she seems useful. we’ll talk again. Maybe she can earn passage elsewhere, at least."
Dane nodded, feeling pleased.
"As for our other matter, it’s beginning to look like someone doesn’t want us finding out anything about our derelict.
What we need to know is if it’s the authorities—or someone else. And Jan and I might be the ones to look at this for now. After you, Tang, get the rest of the data from the Starvenger's log deciphered."
"Aye, Captain," Ya said. "I’ll get back to it right now." He pulled himself out of the mess and disappeared in the direction of his cabin.
"I’ll go let Tooe out of the brig," Dane said.
Frank Mura motioned to him. "Bring her back for a meal," he said. "From the looks of her, it’s long overdue."
Dane grinned as he descended to the brig, and opened the door.
Tooe was still under the bench, upside down. Again, vertigo seized Dane; after a brief struggle he accepted the inversion of his world. She looked down at him, her yellow eyes huge. The pupils narrowed into slits and her crest rose in a gesture that looked so hopeful, Dane tried not to laugh. "You’re in my charge," he said in Trade, then repeated it again, awkwardly, in Rigelian.
"Speak Trade, me," Tooe said proudly, pinwheeling out from under the bench and flipping upside down to match Dane’s orientation. Watching her made his stomach flip-flop. She smacked her scrawny chest. "Learn off vids Nunku get." Then she peered closer at him, as if puzzled.
"Well, you’ll need some more practice," Dane said, fighting off vertigo again. What was happening to him?
Then a vivid flash of memory filled his inner gaze: Tooe, interrogated by the captain, surrounded by people all of whose heads were oriented parallel to the same axis. Except hers.
We all act like we're under acceleration, even when we're not. She
doesn't. So who was better adapted to space?
"I fast. Very fast." Tooe took her gaze from his face, then hesitated, her pupils widening and narrowing disconcertingly as she looked around as if searching for a word. Then she said, "Zounds!"
"Zounds?" Dane repeated, no longer able to hide his laughter. "How old are those vids you’ve been watching?"
Three days later, Dane floated into the Starvenger's galley and drew a bulb of hot drink.
Rip Shannon bounced gently against a wall and watched his big, yellow-haired friend maneuvering carefully in free fall. Behind him was a diminutive blue person, miming his movements.
Rip delighted in the absurdity of the situation, but he kept his voice steady as he said, "Good workout, you two?"
Dane looked over his shoulder at Tooe, who had become his shadow during the two days he and Rip had been stationed for their turn on the Starvenger. During those two days both men had talked to the little Rigelian, but it was Dane who did the most, sometimes using vocabulary culled from three or four languages. Tooe’s understanding of Trade speech was much better than her spoken use of the language, but she was a very fast learner, and her ability to express herself grew noticeably better each day.
"I strong, me," Tooe chirped. "I strong in one grav, like Terrans."
"She can pull a lot of weight for her size," Dane admitted. "She’s apparently been working out in high grav for years, ever since she formed her plans for getting into space."
Tooe obviously understood this; her crest spread out at a proud angle above her head, and she grinned, showing a row of sharp, pointed little teeth.
"Everything locked down on the lower deck?" Rip asked.
Dane nodded. "All’s shipshape."
"We go back?" Tooe asked, looking from one of them to the other, her yellow eyes wide.
"We’re just waiting for the—" Rip paused as a clanking noise reverberated through the ship. "Hey, sounds like the shuttle just reached the lock. Shall we go see?"
Tooe chirped, "I help, me!" She doubled up her feet and sprang from the wall, rocketing through the hatchway into the corridor outside. Rip followed more slowly, just in time to see what looked like a thin blue streak ricochet swiftly from bulkhead to deckplates down the corridor and around the corner.
When he and Dane reached the lock, Tooe’s fingers were already busy at the console. Rip bounded toward her, then slowed.
"Will you look at that," he said.
On the screen in front of her the lock icon flashed into a steady green as she initiated the pressure checks.
"All clear, is," she announced proudly.
"All clear, is," agreed Dane and Rip solemnly.
As Johan Stotz and Jasper Weeks emerged from the tube, Jasper smiled in greeting. "How’s the new crew member synching in?" He nodded toward Tooe.
Rip saw Tooe glance their way, her crest flicking up at a hopeful angle, and he hid a smile. "Fine," he said. "Learns fast." He faced Weeks and added casually, "Almost looks like home down in the engine compartment."
Jasper’s grin twisted a little. "Isn’t it starting to look like home all over? Or haven’t you hauled over some stuff you like to mess with?"