Kira nodded slowly. “I had the same thought. I can hang some webbing outside the airlock and hunker down there.”
“Perfect. We’ve got alarms set in case the Jelly does break out, so you should have plenty of warning.” He gave her a wry smile. “I know it won’t be that comfortable there in the entryway, but we don’t have any better options.”
“It’s fine,” said Kira. “Don’t worry about it.”
Falconi nodded and pulled off his shirt. Then he stripped off his pants and socks, put them in the locker, and pushed himself over to the one empty cryo tube. On the way, he trailed a hand across the side of Trig’s tube, leaving a three-fingered mark in the layer of frost coating the machine.
Kira joined Falconi as he popped open the lid to his tube. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but admire the play of muscles across his back.
“You going to be okay?” he said, fixing her with a look of unexpected sympathy.
“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”
“Gregorovich will be up for a little while longer, and remember—if you need to talk, at any time, you wake me up. Seriously.”
“I will. Promise.”
Falconi hesitated, and then he put a hand on her shoulder. She covered it with her own, feeling the heat from his skin radiating into hers. He gave her a soft squeeze before letting go and pulling himself into the cryo tube.
“We’ll meet again at Sol,” he said.
She smiled, recognizing the lyrics. “In the shadow of the moon.”
“By the shine of that green Earth.… Goodnight, Kira.”
“Goodnight, Salvo. Sleep well.”
Then the lid of the cryo tube slid shut over his face, and the machine began to hum as it pumped in the chemicals that would induce hibernation.
4.
Kira carefully guided a bundle of bedding through the ship’s corridors. She’d wrapped it with several tendrils from the Soft Blade, so as to keep her hand free and keep the blankets from floating away.
When she reached the airlock, she saw Itari floating near the outer door, looking out the clear sapphire porthole at the spray of stars outside.
The Wallfish still hadn’t jumped back to FTL. Gregorovich was waiting until the ship was fully chilled. Already the temperature had dropped by a noticeable amount as the radiators did their job.
Kira secured the blankets to the deck with clips and webbing from the port cargo hold. Then she went and fetched the few supplies she would need for the long journey ahead: water, ration bars, wipes, bags to store trash, the replacement contacts Vishal had printed out, and her concertina.
When she was satisfied with her little nest, she went and opened the airlock. Anchoring herself to the frame of the open doorway, she was about to speak when the Jelly preempted her: [[Itari here: Your scent lingers, Idealis.]]
[[Kira here: What do you mean?]]
[[Itari here: The things you said earlier … Your kind and mine differ in more ways than just our flesh. I have been trying to understand, but I fear it is beyond this form.]]
She cocked her head. [[Kira here: I feel the same.]]
The Jelly blinked, pale nictitating membranes flashing across the black orbs of its eyes. [[Itari here: What is it that two-forms consider sacred, Idealis? If not the Vanished, then what?]]
The question daunted her. Now she was supposed to discuss religion and philosophy with an alien? Her classes on xenobiology had never covered that particular possibility.
She took a fortifying breath.
[[Kira here: Many things. There is no one right answer. Every two-form has to decide for themselves. It is a…]]—she struggled to find a translation for individual—[[… a choice each two-form has to make on their own. Some find the choice easier than others.]]
One of the Jelly’s tentacles rolled across its carapace. [[Itari here: What do you consider sacred, Idealis?]]
That stopped Kira. What did she consider sacred? Nothing so abstract as the concept of god or beauty or anything like that. Not numbers, as the Numenists did. Nor scientific knowledge, as the Entropists did. She briefly considered saying humanity, but that wasn’t right either. Too limited.
In the end she said, [[Kira here: Life. That is what I think is sacred. Without it, nothing else matters.]] When the Jelly didn’t immediately reply: [[What about the Wranaui? What about you? Is there anything other than the Vanished you consider sacred?]]
[[Itari here: We, the Wranaui. The Arms and our expanse into the swirl of stars. It is our birthright and our destiny and an ideal that all Wranaui are devoted to, even if we sometimes disagree on the means to accomplish our goal.]]
The answer disturbed Kira. There was too much of the zealot, the xenophobic, and the imperialistic about it for her liking. Hawes had been right; it wouldn’t be easy to live in peace with the Jellies.
Difficult doesn’t mean impossible, she reminded herself.
She changed the subject: [[Kira here: Why do you sometimes say this form when you refer to yourself? Is it because the Wranaui have so many different shapes?]]
[[Itari here: One’s form determines one’s function. If another function were needed, the form can be changed.]]
[[Kira here: How? Can you change the arrangement of your flesh just by thinking?]]
[[Itari here: Of course. If there were no thinking, why would one go to the Nest of Transference?]]
It was a term she didn’t recognize from the Soft Blade. [[Kira here: Is the Nest of Transference also a making of the Vanished?]]
[[Itari here: Yes.]]
[[Kira here: So if you want to change into your hatchling form or your rooted form, you would go to the Nest of Transference and—]]
[[Itari here: No. You misunderstand, Idealis. Those are forms of the original flesh. The Nest of Transference is used for forms that are manufactured.]]
Surprise gave her pause. [[Kira here: You mean your current form was made? In a machine?]]
[[Itari here: Yes. And if needed, I might choose another form at the Nest of Transference. Also too if this flesh were destroyed, I might select another.]]
[[Kira here: But, if your form were destroyed, you would be killed.]]
[[Itari here: How can I be killed when there is a record of my pattern at the Nest of Transference?]]
Kira frowned as she struggled to understand. Several more questions did little to clarify the matter. She couldn’t seem to get the Jelly to make a distinction between its body and its pattern, whatever that was.
[[Kira here: If your form were destroyed right now, would your pattern contain all your memories?]]
[[Itari here: No. All memories from when we left the system of the Vanished would be lost. This is why our shells always swim in sets of two or more unless the need for secrecy is great, as when we sent the Tserro to the reliquary.]]
[[Kira here: Then … the pattern is not you, is it? The pattern would be an out-of-date copy. A you from the past.]]
The Jelly’s colors grew more muted, neutral. [[Itari here: Of course the pattern would still be me. Why would it not? The passing of a few moments does not change my nature.]]
[[Kira here: What if your pattern were given a new form while your old form was still here? Would that be possible?]]
Nearscent of disgust spiked the air. [[Itari here: That would be the heresy of the Tfeir. No Wranaui from the other Arms would do such a thing.]]
[[Kira here: You disapproved of Lphet, then?]]
[[Itari here: Our goals are greater than our differences.]]