Darkworld: Earth

17.

“Will you speak well of him that killed your cousin? The nurse asked Juliet. And Juliet said, “ Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband? Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it? But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?” Gabriel said. He paused to take a sip of water. “I think I’ll take a break there, Tukano. What do you think of the play so far?”

“It is beautiful, powerful, and tragic,” Tukano said. “I am attempting to envision it enacted in the time in which it was written, but even without knowing only what I know of your world the author of these words has reached out through time to grasp me by the heart and say ‘this is what it is to be in love!’”

Gabriel chuckled. “Yeah. The Bard of Avon knew how to use a quill. It’s a shame that I don’t have this in digital format. I only just happen to have the Works of Shakespeare as one of the books I brought for leisure time.”

“I am enjoying hearing you read it,” Tukano said. “Would it be permissible to share this performance?”

Gabriel frowned. “I guess. I mean, Shakespeare is considered in the public domain, so there’s no reason you can’t. You know that not everyone on earth speaks like this though, right?”

“The computer has taken into consideration the time that has passed since this work was written into consideration,” Tukano assured him. “Having historical examples of famous literary works from your language will assist it in translating many of the Yonohoan classics. Having a classical work read by a modern speaker is especially useful to it.”

“I’m glad you don’t think this is a waste of time,” Gabriel said. “But I do need to rest my voice for a while. I wish that I could put on some music while my vocal cords recover, but the captain says that all media requires prior approval. I kind of got in trouble for oversharing earlier.”

“I regret that, Gabriel,” Tukano said.

“It’s fine. It’s just a letter in my file.”

“I am eagerly awaiting your captain’s decision on the trade of music and other forms of art from your culture,” Tukano said. “As are all of my peers.”

“Right. Well, goodbye for now Tukano. I’ll talk to you later.”

“I will enjoy that. While you rest, would you enjoy listening to some of the music of my world?” Tukano asked.

Gabriel blinked in surprise at the offer. “Oh, yeah. Sure, that sounds good.”

“Since you enjoy the sound of children singing, I have selected a performance of the child’s opera of one of the cities on the southern continent’s performance of one of our historic epics. It is of course performed in the Yonohoan language, but I will transmit a translation into english for you to read at your leisure.”

“That sounds perfect, Tukano.”

The sound of children singing, accompanied by drums and flutes, filled Gabriel’s dungeons through the handheld radio he’d been using. He quickly checked his computer to ensure that it was still recording the transmissions on that frequency and made a timestamp for the start of the Yonohoan epic.

Gabriel set the handheld radio aside and marked his place in the book, then stretched before opening his messages. There was one from the communications team labeled as urgent. Gabriel read the transcription of Diego’s report on the Liberation War, frowning as he processed the implications.

“Damn,” he said. “It might very well be that my ancestors were the lucky ones in this universe. Going to war over a stolen goat might seem foolish, but I can only imagine the scale of the loss of life that some of these grudges must have incurred.”

He decided that he needed a break. Taking the radio with him – the computer was recording the broadcast itself and not the sound his radio was producing – Gabriel kicked off and floated to the door of his ‘dungeon,’ then floated through the hallway in the direction of the mess hall.

One of the doors opened along the way and a young woman stuck her head out. It was the same woman who had objected to Diego as being treated as expendable during the staff meeting.

“What is that?” she asked, motioning towards the device that Gabriel held.

“A radio.”

She pouted at him. “You know what I meant.”

“Yonohoan children’s opera. I guess that’s a thing. Pretty neat, huh?”

“Wonder if they have gangsta rap,” she said.

Gabriel made a face, and she laughed.

“You still worried about Diego?” he asked.

“Of course I am. We’re getting married,” the woman said.

“Does he know that?” Gabriel asked.

“It’s a done deal. Or at least it will be once we get back to Earth, date for the mandatory six months that he’s insisting on, and then realizes I’m right and we’re perfect for each other,” she said.

Gabriel laughed. “You know that the only reason he’s hiding behind the non-fraternization rules is because he’s just not that into you, Sarah. He’s not that serious about rules like that when they’re not in his favor. And I know of at least three other secret relationships that are being hidden from the brass, and I’ve heard Diego mention all of them.”

Sarah smacked him. The impact affected both of them, causing them to float apart until they were able to grab one of the railings running through the hall and correct their trajectories. Gabriel just laughed it off. She continued to follow him towards the mess hall.

“Did you read about the war?” she asked.

“Yeah, I skimmed the report,” he said. “Terrible, isn’t it?”

“Makes me glad that we missed it,” she agreed.

“Yeah, me too. I think everyone was lucky. We cavemen were mucking around with rocks and making huts out of mud while everyone out in the universe was killing each other and dying by the trillions. Our life expectancy might have been mid-thirties, but at least we weren’t getting planet-cracked or having bio-weapons used against us or any of the other terrible things that were no doubt happening to entire planets.”

“Yeah,” she said, and she shivered. “I wish that they’d put me on the list of who got to talk with the aliens.”

“I’m surprised that after my massive fuck-up I’m still approved,” Gabriel commented.

“You’re necessary. You understand computers well enough to be critical in getting our systems on the same wavelength,” Sarah reminded him.

“Yeah, but that’s not what she has me working on right now. The truth is that we have the computers talking about as much as we want them talking right now. Anders is still a little jumpy after they shot at the probe we sent them, and he doesn’t want them to have too solid of a picture of how our computers work in case they’re developing attempts to hack into our system,” Gabriel explained. “So I’m working on helping them understand our language instead. I’ve spent the last few hours reading them Romeo and Juliet.”

“Sounds like fun,” she said. “Think I can get in on that? I have a few paperbacks stashed in my storage locker that I could dust off.”

Gabriel shrugged as he went to the refrigerator and pulled out a plastic-wrapped burrito. He put it in the microwave, then checked to see if the coffee was ready.

Making coffee in space using the traditional percolator was hopeless. The coffee aboard the Seeker was made from concentrate mixed with hot water, which was dispensed inside of a squeeze-ball and served at a temperature that was unlikely to cause burns. It tasted terrible compared to the real thing, but was still better than being without caffeine.

“If you want to volunteer your voice to the cause, run it up the chain of command,” he suggested.

“I think I might do that,” Sarah agreed. Once he was out of the way, she grabbed one of the tubes filled with space-food and waited for his burrito to finish cooking so that she could use the microwave.

“Wait, are you supposed to eat Turkey Surprise hot?” he asked.

“Of course you are,” she said. “It tastes like ass if you try to eat it cold.”

“Huh,” he said.

“How do you feel about the fact that the captain thinks we’re all expendable?” Sarah asked.

“She includes herself in that statement, Sarah,” Gabriel reminded her. The microwave beeped and he took the burrito out to take a bite. With his mouth half full, he said “And she’s got a point. I like the Yonohoans, they seem like good people. But there’s thirteen billion people on Earth. That has to sort of tip the scales a bit, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, okay, but that doesn’t mean that I have to like it,” Sarah said.

“But hey, if we survive and make it back to Earth, we’ll be super famous,” Gabriel reminded her.

“I know. I’m just … I didn’t think that she’d just come right out and say it, you know?”

“I think it’s important that we remember what’s at stake. We all knew when we signed up for this mission that we were putting our lives on the line. Literally. We’re hundreds of lightyears away from any assistance. We’re running on an experimental FTL drive which is known to be harmful. And the mission specs is to effectively keep going until some of us start to show signs of degeneration, although nobody has actually officially said as much,” Gabriel pointed out.

Sarah was startled by his words. “What do you mean?”

“We’re going to be in subspace for three thousand percent longer than anyone has ever previously tested human exposure to that dimension, Sarah. At least, if everyone lasts that long. But the mission specs specifically say to turn around as soon as anyone starts showing symptoms of neural degeneration. To me, that reads as ‘you’re a guinea pig, but we’re not going to come right out and say it,’” Gabriel explained.

Sarah frowned, looking displeased. “That is not how I read things at all.”

“Yeah, maybe I’m being cynical. We’ve only had the tunnel drive for about fifty years and most of that has been spent trying to figure out how to safely use it. I would argue that we’re still figuring out how to safely use it, and that’s hidden mission goal of the Seeker ,” Gabriel said.

“I don’t like the idea of our government conducting human experimentation,” Sarah said.

“Sarah, think about it. It’s necessary if we’re going to use the Tunnel Drive to establish the safety limits on it. If you look around at the crew, you can even see some signs that this ‘hidden mission’ was built into our selection,” Gabriel pointed out. “It wasn’t political correctness that assured our crew was selected for diversity. It was ruthless pragmatism.”

Sarah shivered. “I think I’m going to go eat in my room after all.”

“Sorry. Hope I didn’t spoil your apetite.”

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