“Got to know our new Fool today, Al Shei,” said Chandra as she handed over the box.
“Oh?” Al Shei picked up the thermos. “What do you think?”
“I either love her or she’s going to be dead before the week’s out,” answered the Galley chief with a wink.
“Oh, please don’t kill her off,” Al Shei waved the thermos. “The last thing we need is to be black-balled by the Fools.”
Schyler was waiting in the corridor when she reached her cabin. His arms were folded against his chest and he was leaning his head and shoulders against the wall. Al Shei felt her good mood begin to drain away. This was not a posture Schyler adopted when things were going well.
“What’s up, Tom?” she asked as she palmed the reader for her cabin hatch.
“I’ve got to talk to you about Tully.”
Al Shei’s mood fell straight into her boots. The cabin hatch cycled open. “Come on in.”
Schyler followed her into her cabin and let the hatch shut behind them. Technically Al Shei was not supposed to do this. Although for centuries it was common practice for Islamic women to earn at least part of the household income outside the home, it was, by some interpretations of the law, haram, forbidden, for a married woman to be alone in a confined space with a man who was not her relative. She had gotten around the problem years ago by having Resit draw up adoption papers. Schyler was an orphan and Islamic law explicitly encouraged the adoption and maintenance of orphans. On paper, Schyler was Al Shei’s son. They kept the fact very quiet, since neither of them particularly wanted to deal with the jokes that were sure to arise from it.
It also meant that, technically, she could take off her hijab in front of him. She had never exercised the option.
“So, Tom, what’s the problem?” Al Shei tucked the hot box under her arm so she could fold the table down from the wall and deposit her dinner on it.
Schyler paced the room between her folded up bed and her nest of faux silk pillows in the far corner. His hands were jammed so far into his pockets, she could see the fabric strain at the seams.
At last, he faced her. “I think Marcus Tully’s finally gone too far.”
Al Shei leaned her hip against the edge of the table and reached up under her hijab to rub her temple. It was not surprising to find that Schyler’s abrupt confirmation the suspicions she’d laid out for Asil did not make her feel better.
“I know.” She lowered her hand. “Or at least, I suspected. Do you know exactly what he did?” she asked.
Schyler shrugged without taking his hands out of his pockets. His coveralls hitched up and down. “I’m not sure. You know he never tells me when he breaking local law…”
“So you won’t have to tell me.” Al Shei finished for him. “What’s different this time.”
“Whatever it is he… acquired, he’s left it here.”
Al Shei jerked her head up. “What!”
“Or part of it, or evidence of it.” Schyler finally extracted his hands and waved them towards the walls. “He tried to get back on board after he’d checked out. Needed to get some things he’d left behind he said.” Schyler jammed his hands back into his pockets.” He’s never done that. The change-overs have always been smooth. Something is up this time.”
Al Shei nodded. “I agree with you. What could he have left? It’s not in the engineer’s cabin, or if it is it’s hidden…” An idea struck her and Al Shei faced the wall. “Intercom to Houston.” She waited the single second while the intercom located and paged him.
“Houston, here, Engine,” came back Lipinski’s voice. She could hear the faint noise of voices in the background, so ‘here’ was probably the comm center, as opposed to the data-hold.
“Houston, what did you do with those burned out wafer stacks? Did you cash them in with the recyclers at Oberon?” The look that crossed Schyler’s face that was part revelatory and part fearful.
“No,” answered Lipinski. “It looked like some of the sectors might be useable, so I kept them for spares. I haven’t gone over them yet.”
Al Shei tapped one finger against the wall. “Just put them aside for now, will you, Houston? I’ll be down later to talk to you. Intercom to close.” The wall chirped as the connection closed.
Al Shei tugged at her tunic sleeve and faced Schyler. “You know, if this turns out to bean on-going situation, Resit is going to have fifty fits.”
“I know.”
“Do you have any idea at all what Tully was doing?”
Schyler nodded reluctantly. Al Shei bit her tongue. She hated it when he acted like a guilty child. Most of the time he was a fast thinker, cool under pressure and quick to give an order or take on a job. But very now and then, the sheepish, confused Schyler she had helped out on Station Kilimanjaro resurfaced.
“So, what is it?” The chill she felt in her blood was reflected in her voice. She’d had plenty of time in the off watches to speculate on what Tully had been up to on his run. Part of her did not want confirmation of any of the ideas she had dreamed up.
She waited while Schyler made up his mind. She forced herself to be patient. Schyler functioned in a small world of self-imposed rules. One of those rules dictated that he never discussed Al Shei’s doings with Tully, or Tully’s with Al Shei. He was about to break that rule. She could spare him the time he needed to finally decide to do it.
“I think he was data smuggling from Powell Secured Sector. You know, where Toric Station is.”
Al Shei closed her eyes. “Allahumma inna nasta’inuka,” she said reflexively. Oh, Allah, we seek Your help. “It’s possible. Resit picked up a rumor that a security plug had been pulled out of there.” She through up both her hands. “Why, Tom? Why is he doing this? He doesn’t smuggle, he broadcasts. If he got hold of some military secret, why isn’t he just blabbing it all over the next six systems.”
Schyler looked at her bleakly. “We did not make any money last trip, Katmer. We had a totally flat run.”
“But there’ve been deposits in the acc…” Al Shei’s voice trailed away. She took a deep breath. “Well, it’s a good thing I’ve got Asil checking into where they came from, isn’t it?”
Schyler started a little at that. “I guess it is.”
“All right.” Al Shei sat down in the room’s one real chair and tried to smooth her turbulent thoughts. “All right. We can’t leave all of this to Asil. He’ll just be able to track the buyer, or the contractor, assuming we’re right, of course. On this end, we need to find out exactly what Tully’s done, and to whom, and how if we can. We can’t panic appropriately when we haven’t got the facts.”
“Beware of suspicion,” quoted Schyler. “For suspicion may be based on false information.”
Al Shei nodded and looked at her long hands where they lay in her lap. “It is also said ‘Allah’s curse will be on him if he is a liar.’” She shook her head heavily. “Brother-in-law or not, I think you were right, Tom. I think Tully’s really gone to far.” She looked up at Schyler, some part of her seeking reassurance. “But maybe we’ll find out he’s just being an idiot again.”
Schyler gave her a weak smile. “God willing and the creeks don’t rise.”
She smiled underneath her hijab. “Your mouth to God’s ear,” she told him. “Look, prayer is in about three minutes. I’ll get Lipinski going on those wafer stacks and we’ll talk about this after breakfast tomorrow, all right?”
“All right, Mother,” he said because nobody else was there. He let himself out into the corridor. At that same moment, Resit walked in from the door to the bathroom she and Al Shei shared. Her face was still slightly damp from the wudu, the ablution. She saw the door close and must have spotted Schyler’s back.