Notes: A little Cody perspective this time, because it turns out he can take care of himself, darn it.
Title: Reformation: Chapter Seventeen
***
Chapter Seventeen
It didn’t take Cody long to realize that no one was going to
work with him. Honestly, he shouldn’t have assumed otherwise. His grandma had made
it clear that he was nothing to her, or worse than nothing—an interference she
didn’t want to have to deal with. None of the mechanics even spoke to him,
although he got plenty of sometimes-curious, sometimes-baleful glances.
Well, then. If he wasn’t going to be making any friends
today, then he could work to accomplish his secondary objective. Multi-layered
plans were a tactician’s greatest friend, and as much as Cody was learning at
the Academy, he’d already sat at the hand of the master when it came to having
a backup.
He grabbed one of the welding helmets from the wall,
ignoring everyone like he knew exactly where he was going and what he was
doing. He didn’t bother with the tool kit—Cody had a molecular repair wand in
his own tool bag, which worked a hell of a lot better than the ones like this
that burned—he sniffed—fossil fuels?
Really? Wow. It was a wonder everyone on this ship didn’t have cancer.
Cody tucked the helmet over his head, covering up most of
his hair—he’d thought about cutting it down to bristle-length a dozen times,
but Ten liked it like this—and all of his face. He knew he was still being
watched but he ignored it, grabbing an apron to go with the helmet and putting
it on before accessing his implant. His head ached a little, but the mapping
function came up easily enough.
Location 1—name.
“Main hall for engineering,” he murmured. The designation
appeared in his mind, a glowing blue dot right beneath his feet. “From main
door, leftmost hall.” He started walking toward it, a thin line appearing in
his mind, the first strand of his rudimentary map.
“Hey!” someone called out. “Your girlfriend went the other
way, Bound Boy!” Nice, Cody hadn’t heard that one before. He ignored the
directions and the taunt, and continued until he hit the hall and started down
it.
Location 1-a: leftmost
hall.
“Good enough for now.” He walked on, slowly, taking note of
interesting features and doors into other compartments. The farther he went,
the fewer people noticed him, until after half an hour he was still walking and
nobody he passed—and there weren’t many of them in this part of the
ship—bothered him at all.
This corridor seemed to be fairly close to the hull, if the
temperature readings Cody was getting were correct. He’d left the original ship
behind a thousand steps ago, but whoever had grafted these two together, they’d
done a good job. It helped that the ships were the same model—Parvathan Stars,
his memory supplied, probably about three hundred years old—but there were some
noticeable differences. He stopped occasionally to zip a few sections together
that looked on the verge of falling apart, either due to poor maintenance, poor
welding compound or just…rust.
Holy shit. Who knew that anything was made with metal that rusted in the space-traveling era? The
big advantage of meta materials was that you didn’t have to worry about them breaking down like origin materials
would, because they took care of each other’s weaknesses and enhanced each
other’s strengths. So strange.
Eventually he took a ladder up the side of the ship and to
the hall just above it. This one was tighter than the first, more like a
walkway, with a grate floor and a much closer ceiling. There was pink foam
under the grate, and foam on the external-facing side of the hall as well. A
quick probe informed him the foam was actually spray-on insulation. Spray. On.
Insulation. Fire-retardant but not fireproof, and not the sort of thing you’d
worry about in a part of the ship that wasn’t close to where people lived.
Location 2—name?
“Firetrap,” Cody muttered, then winced as the program wrote
that onto the map. “Delete. Rename dwelling-adjacent walkway, once elevated
from 1-a.” It did so, and Cody squared his shoulders and started walking again,
careful not to touch the insulation any more than he had to. Toxic, so toxic. No wonder his dad had taken
him and run out of here as soon as he could. Cody was surprised he’d survived
to the age of five in this ship.
He managed two more levels before he sat down to have lunch,
a protein bar that he’d brought along with him. The area he was in was
criss-crossed with pipes that carried water through the ship, if the occasional
drips that hit the floor were anything to go by. Cody wanted to imagine it was
clean water, but he kind of doubted that the environmental scrubbers on this
thing were anything to shout about. The best he could probably hope for was
non-poisonous.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The noise was a little obnoxious. Cody looked around for the nearest drip and
spied it a little under a meter away. He pulled out his repair wand, stretched
over and touched it to the pipe. One quick zip
later and the leak was sealed. He sat back to finish the rest of his lunch,
and—
“No!” A kid—a tiny
kid, he couldn’t be more than three or four—scuttled out from under a bent
piece of siding that must have led through to one of the living areas. He had
skin so black it looked almost blue, and wore a jumper than had probably once
been yellow but was now settled firmly into beige. “Turn it on again!” He
looked with distress down into the grating below the drip, then turned and
firmly smacked Cody on the helmet. Ow.
He pulled the visor up.
“Take it easy!”
“She needs the water! Turn it on!”
“Who needs the water?”
“Missy!”
Cody was still mystified. “Who is Missy?” The kid grabbed
his arm and tugged until he bent over to look into the grate. At first all he could
see was pink foam, but beyond that there was a sliver of the metal beneath it,
and caught inside a crack—or was it a deliberate fault? It was hard to tell
from here—was a yellow blossom nestled in a bed of green leaves. It was a—no.
Really?
“A dandelion?” Cody murmured. “Seriously?” He knew they had
a reputation for being able to grow anywhere, but on a Drifter ship caught
between toxic insulation and rusty metal? The water must be carrying more
nutrients than he thought. Which also meant it was probably dirty as hell, even
if all he could smell right now was the underlying chemical funk of the foam.
“Missy,” the kid repeated. “She needs to drink.”
“How long has she been there?” Cody asked.
“Since last time.”
He nodded encouragingly. “Last time what?”
“Last dirt time.”
“You grabbed a few seeds the last time you went planetside?”
The kid shuffled his feet. “They grabbed me. And then fell off. And I found one
and put it here.”
“Huh.” Of all the places to grow a garden. Cody nodded. “I
get it. Okay.” He reached out with the wand and reopened the tiny gash in the
pipe. “There. Water for Missy.”
“Good.” The kid looked satisfied. “I’m Zan, I’m five. My
mama is kitchen folk.”
Well, that was a matter-of-fact introduction. “I’m Cody. I’m
nineteen. My daddy is a pilot.”
Zan frowned. “But you look engines.”
“I’m engines, but my daddy isn’t.”
Zan made a face. “Weird.”
“I guess so. You hungry?” Cody shared the rest of his
protein bar and a one-sided conversation with Zan, who was more than happy to
talk up a storm now that his pet flower had been tended to. By the time Cody
left, he and the kid were fast friends, and he promised to come and visit Missy
again.
It wasn’t exactly the kind of interaction Cody had been
expecting when he got out of bed that morning, but it was way better than
nothing. He smiled through the next hour of mapmaking, walking over four miles’
worth of halls and traversing at least seven originally-separate ships before
he got a message from Ten: Finally done.
Heading back to our place. Meet me there? He sent back the equivalent of a
nod, and had his implant plot the fastest route there given the information it
had. Fifteen minutes, three ladders, and two stairwells later, and Cody was
back in their dock, where Ten was waiting impatiently for him.
“The way this thing leaks I’m amazed it doesn’t just all
decompress and kill everyone,” ze said as soon as ze saw Cody. “You think what I do is dangerous? I have nothing on
these people, nothing, it’s astonishing they aren’t all dead of some ridiculous
mold-borne illness because they don’t have the facilities to give people more
than one shot of Regen a year unless they’re on the verge of death, which you would be all the fucking time here.
Oh my god, you were on the verge of death
all the fucking time! Why did Jonah wait until you were five? Why do I have
to do this again tomorrow? Do I have to do this again tomorrow?”
“You do,” Cody said, setting the helmet and apron aside.
“I’m sorry.”
“Hmph. On the plus side—and there was only one, and this is
it—Livia is competent and not a complete idiot. So.” Ten flopped back on their
cot. “What did you do today?”
Cody grinned and accessed his new map. “I’ll show you all
about it.”
ah! this is a great chapter ;D you can never have enough friends and kids are special <3
ReplyDelete