Relic Tech (Crax War Chronicles) (36 page)

Janice looked stunned; I wasn’t. I suspected he was following our discussion. “Sir, listening in on a private conversation is ill mannered. Interjecting yourself into one is doubly so.” I felt for my brass knuckles and recalled giving them to Benny. “I would ask that you refrain from doing so.”

He turned his chair fully around and flipped his orange tie forward. “Specialist 4th Class, what would you know of class and social manners?”

His companion, his wife based on the elaborate wedding band, tugged at his arm to hush him. He brushed her off. “Well, Relic?”

Janice’s expression had shifted to embarrassment. His mistake for publicly insulting my date. I wouldn’t stoop to degrading his wife, but he was fair game. “I don’t claim to be an expert, but even a lowly primate is cognizant of proper etiquette. You, sir, are apparently still working your way up.” Red rose in his face. “All in attendance understand that evolution takes time. When you reach the proper stage, I will accept your apology. Until then, I will understand.”

Janice was now showing anger, hands clenched, shoulders tense. I caught Ms. Jazarine whispering into the wife’s ear.

“A craven man you are,” boasted the loudmouth, “to utter such, hiding behind your weapons and position as a security official. Bottom rung I might add.”

“Sir, it is my position that has allowed this conversation to continue this far. Everyone in attendance would be best served if we simply went back to our meals.”

His wife tugged at his shoulder. He spurned her again. “Ha!” he said. “I have studied martial arts extensively, and hold a second degree black belt in Karate, not to mention my study of Judo.”

I knew the moment I stood, it would be over. I forced my legs to relax. “Sir, I believe you have let the alcohol do your talking. We would both benefit if this moment were allowed to pass.”

“Coward, as we all knew.” He nodded looking around. “Why don’t you just shut up and slink away? You don’t belong here.”

“I should inform you, sir, I collect belts, too. I’ve a half dozen tacked up in my quarters—those of morons who let their mouth say what their ass couldn’t back up.” I pointed at him. “One more word out of you, and I guarantee the re
st of your trip’ll be spent in Medical. Recovering.”

He stood, and removed his coat. “Step over here, Relic, so I can shut you up and send you back where you belong.” His orange and black speckled tie landed on his wife.

I looked to Janice. “You’d better get out of the way. This Chip’s blood might ruin your dress.” I stood and removed my gun belt. My stun baton was in my thigh pocket if things got out of hand. I was sure they would. Janice came over beside me, and started to say something. My eyes were locked with the loudmouth’s and I didn’t have time for it. I handed her my equipment. “Hold this a moment.”

I started to step forward when Mr. B’down slipped between us. Two of the loudmouth’s friends pulled him back down into his seat. I couldn’t hear what they said to him with Mr. B’down, hands raised, urgently talking to me. “Specialist Keesay, you’ve been more than reasonable. Mr. Kolber was out of line. There’s no need to take this any further.”

My adrenaline was running, but I took a step back. I kept my eye on Kolber.

“That’s him,” said one if his friends, pointing to me.

Kolber’s staring eyes widened. He looked around and grabbed his coat from an associate. “My mistake,” he said, before turning to his wife. “We’ll...let’s go.” She scanned her peers, and, humiliated, followed her husband out.

Not caring to acknowledge the
eyes on me, I turned to Janice. “My belt?” She stiffly handed it back and began talking. I strapped it on and swung around to her seat. I offered it to her. I hadn’t caught what she said and whispered as she sat, “Sorry for ruining the evening.”

She surveyed the room. “Not ruined, just reminded a few passengers that wealth isn’t everything.” She must have read my puzzled expression. “Never mind.”

I rearranged the silverware. “I shouldn’t have let him get under my skin.”

She slid her chair next to mine. “You get this all the time? Relic tech training?”

I shrugged. “Occasionally.”

She smiled. “Didn’t you board with a black eye and cut lip?”

I recalled my run-in with Pillar. And with Mavinrom security before that. “Yes, and those were on top of yellowing bruises.” She snorted, trying to hold in a sip of water. “What’s so funny?” I asked.

“Nothing, Kra. Why don’t you pour more champagne and examine the menu.” She nodded as the waiter came around.

I did as Janice requested. I took the large clip from the waiter and ran my finger down the items. A description appeared for each I touched. The price wasn’t listed. “I don’t recall goat being on the list of fine dining cuisine.”

“I don’t think it is,” answered Janice. “It’s one of the original species exported to Tallavaster.”

I looked over the menu with an eyebrow raised.

“Dr. Sevanto says it isn’t too bad,” she said.

“Well, if that’s the case, then I think I’m going to try the broiled goat-chops on cheddar stuffed tomatoes.” I looked further. “With buttered garlic sauce.”

“I think I’ll have the same, but with lemon juice.”

“I’d suggest the biscuits with honey.”

“Honey?”

“Sure,” I urged. “Maybe it’ll be as good as the honey my uncle collected.”

“Your uncle collected?”

“I doubt it,” I said. “Yeah. When I was a kid I helped him some with his bee stock. A risky business. So dependent on the weather. But some years my uncle banked a lot.”

“Aren’t bees dangerous?”

I watched the waiter return. “Not the domestic strains.” I’d learned proper dining etiquette through formal dinners my mother hosted. I ordered for both of us, before requesting a new pitcher of water and fresh ice for the wine bucket. An awkward silence followed.

Janice began thinking aloud. “I wonder what made his friends pull him back?” She was less used to confrontations than me. “And why he left?”

“Maybe Specialist Club communicated to them,” I said, touching my ear, simulating reception through a fictitious com-chip implant. “She wouldn’t tolerate my blood spoiling her stunning dress?”

Janice laughed and we continued with small talk while the oblique glances our direction tapered off and meals began to arrive. “You’ve been restricted from the Thursday dining specials.”

“Correct,” I said. “Imposed after the trouble with McAllister.”

“I also heard that you managed to have your portion given to the colonist children?”

I nodded. “Depending on who Instructor Watts identifies as the top student for the week. Her son Michael won this week.” I spotted our waiter with tray and stand approaching. “What did they serve yesterday?”

“Vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce.” Her eyes looked down, then shot back up grinning. “I was hesitant to bring it up. But you deserve to be told how kind it was to put in such a request.”

“Thank you,” I said, despite the fact that many of the colonists, especially those with children, had done so. “I figured that the colonist children would enjoy the treat even more than I would’ve, and it was pointless having my portion divided among the crew.” I nodded as the waiter set the tray and began serving.

“This looks delicious,” said Janice. “I’ll need to concentrate on our meal. But I still want you to tell me more about the combat shuttle simulations.”

I refilled our flutes before tasting my goat-chop and nodded. “Agreed. More so than the Thursday special.”

The meat was a little tough but the garlic sauce added the necessary zest. Maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t tasted authentic meat in so long. Maybe it was that I’d never dined on goat. I debated this while eating. Janice smiled, sighing between bites. Until then I hadn’t noticed the holographic musicians were playing. A harp, violin and oboe. Their accompaniment made the experience even more satisfying.

Swallowing the last bite, I harkened back to the dinners organized by my mother. They normally included an appetizer, but interstellar travel had its way of impacting all events. I continued to observe others dining. Most were half through their meals. Ms. Jazarine was smiling and nodding to her escort. The opposite table speculated on the threat posed by the Crax. The waiters perched nearby. One moved our direction.

Janice finished just as he arrived. “Will that be all, sir?” he asked.

“Additional water, please.” Janice nodded approval, and he was off.

“Why do you carry your weapon on your opposite hip?”

Janice caught me off guard. I ran the question through my head for a second hearing. “Oh. Easier to sit.” I shifted positions. “Not in these chairs. But the barrel being five and a half inches,” I did the mental conversion, “fourteen centimeters, causes problems in some. This cross-draw changes the angle.” I reached across with my right hand. “Also,” I said, pretending to draw, “I can bring it out and around like this and strike someone.”

“You could use...” she started, before switching her approach. “I’ve seen you work with your sec-bot and on the ship’s systems. I’m sure you could advance to I-Tech.”

“Advance?” I chided. I’d been down this line of questioning before. But she appeared puzzled. “I-Tech is more than simply computer interface and application of technology. It’s a belief system.” She leaned away, eyebrows furrowed. I leaned closer. “Our jobs are different. We work with people all day. What will most of these people do when they finish tonight?” I didn’t wait for a reply. “Go back to their cabins. Interact with their computers? Pull up a holo-cast? Program?

“The standard class passengers. How many do you see out and about? Ninety percent of their time spent in cabin? Granted, a number are engaged in various forms of computer facilitated education or training. But meals ordered in? How much human interaction?”

Janice raised an eyebrow. “Is that it? Interaction?”

“Partly.” I pointed to my ear. “Implants.” Pointed to my eye. “Oculars.”

“They make communication more efficient.”

“With computers,” I said.

“With people too.”

“Correct, but not completely—and without physical connection.” I nodded and she followed my glance. “See that woman sporting the holographic tattoo?” I’d seen it earlier. A small waterfall scene on her shoulder. “Genetic manipulation to achieve it.”

Janice looked down, and I knew what she was thinking. Her purple eyes. “It’s not just the manipulation,” I said. “That woman. Odds are she had it done simply because it was the newest advance. The thing to do, if you can afford it.”

Janice replied, “Technological advances in artificial intelligence, space travel, genetics. They’re all important.” She scratched her neck beneath her V-ID. “If you didn’t mingle with the Chicher, I’d have guessed you remain R-Tech because you’re anti-alien.”

“Correct. I’m not, even though they are in essence an R-Tech species.”

“I think it’s because you’re,” she hesitated, “you’re concerned you might lose your individuality.”

I considered it. “It’s not so black and white.” The waiter filled our glasses. “See, society needs variety. Software engineers are important. But where would they be without doctors?” I thought of the colonists. “What about agricultural laborers?”

“They aren’t necessary, but I get your point.”

“No, they aren’t necessary, but we wouldn’t be dining here if they didn’t exist. Think of your office. You aren’t necessary, but things sure wouldn’t be the same there without someone, a person, to fulfill your duties.” I could see her mind racing. “A valet-bot could be modified to do what you do. Or even an access terminal with holographic interface. But would it be as effective?”

“So, what you’re saying is, a balance between man and technology. A slot for everyone in society.”

I hesitated. “You could look at it that way. And my niche happens to be a class 4 security specialist. Yours happens to be a class 3 administrative specialist.”

“I think…” She smiled, and fingered one of my uniform buttons. “You just like the attention drawn by your relic equipment and dress.”

“Some of the attention it draws, I could do without. Like tonight.”

“But you’re too stubborn to change.”

“I shouldn’t have to change. He should have accepted me for who I am, just as I accepted him for who he was.”

“Did you accept him?” She looked over at the lady with the tattoo. “So, you accept her?” She sipped her wine to disguise a smug grin.

“It depends,” I said, “on what you mean by accept. Would I live the life he does, or get a tattoo like hers, if I could afford it?” I shook my head. “But as long as they break no regulations or laws.” I tapped the table with a finger. “Maybe the better term would be, tolerate.”

“What about respect? Do you want I-Techs to respect your decision to be, to remain R-Tech?”

“Interesting question,” I said, thinking. “No. Respect me, for who I am. Don’t be close-minded. Get to know me.”

“But you don’t respect that lady for getting her tattoo.”

“No, but I tolerate it. Later, if I get to know her, I may respect her, and her decision.” I looked around. “How many others would afford me the same courtesy?” I scanned the room. “Strike that. Tainted by socio-economic condition. But even wealthy R-Techs are looked down upon. I don’t see that older couple with the bulldogs. Virtually every other first class passenger is present.”