Titanium Texicans (10 page)

Tasso said, “No, Captain. I mean, yes it’s a hundred square miles of land, but most of it is untillable. It’s canyon, rocks and hills. It’s good for growing native fauna, but not much else. We do have one small valley with enough dirt to grow about eighty acres for crops and such. I inherited, not Uncle Bruce and I get to take control when I turn eighteen.”

Captain Rojo glanced back at her dataport, “And that will be in another year and a half standard, give or take a few months.”

Tasso said, “Fourteen standard months, Captain. Then Uncle Bruce has to turn title over to me. But, I need to be back much sooner than my birthday.” He did some mental calculations in his head. “Since no one will be there to help me, I need to be back in about ten months to begin pinching off the buds on the top of the chiamra plants or they won’t sprout spice blossom or grow seeds. If I don’t start then, I won’t get through all eighty acres in time. The harvest is in about twelve months ....” His voice trailed off when he saw the expressions of surprise on the three spacers.

“You have eighty acres of chiamra planted?” the captain asked.

Tasso nodded. “The plants were starting to sprout into seedlings when Grandpa … when he … well, when I buried him between Grandma and my mother. I know it’s not much, but it’s about all of the land we can plant. We keep breaking rocks in our spare time, expanding the field. It doesn’t add much land per year.”

Bill Rojo stepped up to the captain’s desk. He handed her the display from his dataport so she could allow it to hover over her desk. “Sis, if our educated guess about chiamra spice production on Saronno is correct, eighty acres should equate to about this much profit.”

Tasso couldn’t see the data on the display from the scrambled backside, although from their expressions, the captain and the purser could read it well enough from the front. “I know it’s not much and with the pricing of chiamra dropping, it should cover about enough for us to replant next year and get us a few staples to get by until the next harvest.”

The captain looked at her brother and at her first officer. Tasso could see some understanding pass between them.

“I don’t know why Uncle Bruce sent me here. I know when I was a child I wanted to go to space. Maybe he thought going to space was what I still want. I don’t know, maybe he didn’t know what else to do with me.”

The captain nodded. “Yeah, and he dumped you here. Well, I’m sorry, Menzies. As much as we’d like to get you back to your crop, we couldn’t do it in ten months even if we wanted. We have contracts and commitments that make such a timetable all but impossible. And we aren’t scheduled to get back to Saronno for another two years standard.”

Tasso said, “But two years? My crop—”

“Your Uncle Bruce will have to take care of your crop,” Captain Rojo interrupted. “I’m sure he will. He’ll have to hold your farm for you until we get you back. Now we have to figure out what to do with you until then.” When Tasso started to protest again, she threw up her hand. “No, Menzies, don’t argue with me. We cannot turn this spacecraft around for one farm boy and his chiamra crop no matter how important it may be. We have three thousand people on board this ship whose incomes depend on meeting our contracts and there are ten times that number of people back on New Texas who trust us to keep our schedules and our word.”

Tasso nodded. His eyes were watering, but he couldn’t tell if his tears were frustration at being sent away from home for two years or if the nanites were still working on his toxins.

From her place on the couch, First Officer Graham said, “Lil, I know I’m supposed to be in charge of our trainee contingent, but I don’t know what to do with our new recruit. His records don’t show any schooling whatsoever. They don’t show any specialized spacecraft skills or any skills at all. He’s far too big to send to kindergarten with the
niños pequeños
. I can’t even tell what his reading level is or if he can read. How am I supposed to place him on a work roster? We’re going to have to run a complete—”

Tasso interrupted, “Of course I can read. And Grandpa schooled me a lot.”

The captain said, “Yes, I’m sure he did. We aren’t questioning your intelligence or your grandfather’s teaching abilities. Nevertheless, we don’t have a reference to know what level of education you have had. The knowledge and skills for life on a ship are quite different from what you may have needed to know on a farm. You may have more to unlearn and relearn than you imagine.”

Graham said, “I can run him through a battery of exams for education levels. Doc Valenzuela needs him for more medical procedures anyway before we turn him loose. What do we do with him the rest of the time?”

The captain shrugged.

Bill Rojo looked thoughtful. “Put him in Aunt Aggie’s attic. Tio Gabe is always claiming he doesn’t have any help.”

The captain looked shocked. “I wouldn’t toss a yankee carpet-bagger into that mess with Tio Gabe, much less a young man who has the potential to be useful someday.”

Graham said, “Someday is the operative word, Lil. You have to assign this greenhorn somewhere. Our uncle may be about half-senile, but he isn’t dangerous. Helping Tio Gabe clean out the attic will keep this boy out of trouble until we figure out what to do with him. Where else do we send stuff that’s too valuable to throw away, but don’t have any need for right now?”

“I got something,” Bill Rojo said.

Graham laughed, “What? Gas or your normal brain farts?”

Bill stuck his tongue out at First Officer Graham. “No. I’ve been running some database searches on the name Tasso Menzies and all of its various iterations. And I think I have a valid result.”

The captain looked at her brother. “Okay, spill it.”

“Well, Lil,” the man replied. “I wasn’t getting anything at first, but I reset the perimeters to check for data fifteen to eighteen years old. The name Tomas Ortiz showed up in a number of inter-planetary broadcasts for a missing person.”

“Tomas, not Tass or Tasso?” the captain asked.

Bill smiled. “Yep,
mi hermana
. Tomas Ortiz, and it might be the same man. Nickname was Tas, just one s. I guess he couldn’t pronounce Tomas as a
niño
and it got shorted to—”

“Tomas Ortiz!” Captain Rojo shouted. “Now I remember! I knew I’d heard that name somewhere. The messages are from Ortiz Freightliners, right? Someone’s grandson dropped off the map. I don’t remember if it was Saronno, but it was this region of space. Any updates on your missing person reports?”

Bill Rojo shook his head. “There’re a few updates over the years, but it kind of dribbled out. There’re a few reports in here about people claiming to have the man. They’re trying to collect the reward, I guess. There isn’t any indication the real man was ever found. There’s still a huge reward offered.”

Graham said with a thoughtful look, “Might be worth more than any cash reward if we could turn up something on the disappearance of Tomas Ortiz.”

The captain looked at her first officer with curiosity, “What have you got in mind, Rosa?”

“
Nada, Jefe
,” Rosa shook her head. “I’d rather have the Ortiz clan owe us a favor later rather than collecting a few
pesos
now.
Comprende
?”

“Billy, send off a message and see if you can get an update on this missing person report. Don’t let on about our little doggie. Let’s keep our cards close to our chest for now, but see what you can find out.”

“Um,” Tasso said, “You think this Tomas Ortiz might be the guy who got my mother pregnant and left her?” He tried to keep his voice calm, but he was almost gritting his teeth. He was sure if the nanites were able to get rid of excess emotion, they must be working, or without them, he would have exploded. Any peacefulness rapidly evaporated.

The captain shook her head. “I doubt it,
Chico
. It looks like a track for us to follow. Still, wouldn’t you like to find out what happened to your father?”

“Father?” Tasso said through tight lips. “I don’t have a father. There is a man who had sex with my mother and then left her to raise her bastard son.”

The captain smiled softly, “Wouldn’t you want to know what happened for your mother’s sake, if nothing else?”

“My mother is dead and past caring. I helped my grandpa bury her.”

The captain nodded. “Yes, but maybe he didn’t mean to leave. If this Tomas Ortiz is the man, then he disappeared and no one has seen him since. Maybe he meant to come back for your mother and you—”

“It doesn’t matter what he meant to do, only what he did!” Tasso interrupted with a shout.

Bill Rojo said, “Ease up there, little buckaroo. Lilianna Rojo is the captain of the Escorpión Rojo. Shouting at the boss is not good manners.”

Tasso jumped out of the chair. Bill Rojo moved to step between him and the captain, but Tasso hung his head and put his hands out to the side.

“I apologize, Captain Rojo. I’m tired, hungry and in truth, feeling a little bit lost, but that’s no excuse for my rudeness. I shouldn’t have shouted or interrupted you. I’m ashamed of my actions. Please forgive me.”

The captain smiled. “Well, that was as nice an apology as I’ve ever had. Pay attention,
mi hermano
, you could learn a few things from this lad. Menzies, you’re right. It’s late and we’re all tired, except Billy who still wants to get off to his poker game. Menzies, no matter how much you want to get back to your farm, it isn’t going to happen. You’ve been chased out of the brush, cut from the herd, and branded.”

CHAPTER 11

TASSO had been on the Red Scorpion for a couple of months and still didn’t know his way around the ship well enough to deviate too far from his normal pathways. He could always call up a ship’s schematics on his dataport, but he was tired and in no mood to play hide and seek.

Whether he was in the mood or not, it paid to be cautious. He peeked around the corner. He carefully checked as far as he could see along the promenade. There were a few people about but not enough of a crowd to hide Armando Cruz and his friends. He was mostly concerned about running into Cruz. The other three, Ivan, Eber, and Flacco would most likely leave him alone if their clique leader Cruz wasn’t with them. They might or might not.

He still didn’t know why Cruz disliked him so much. He had theories ranging from Cruz not liking people with blue eyes, to hating greenhorns, to hating gringos, to just not liking the new kid on the ship. He wondered if Cruz needed someone to bully and Tasso was his most recent designated target. He’d heard Anisa Rojo-Graham was Cruz’s girlfriend, it might’ve made him angry when Tasso caused her to fail observation deck duty. He didn’t know the reason why, but Cruz and company liked to hassle him at every opportunity.

Tasso was tired from working in the attic all night and he was tired of Cruz and his friends pushing him around. He wanted to push back, to fight back, to throw a few punches of his own, but he held his temper in check. He kept remembering the two Bog-Irish boys crying and bleeding in the dirt on a Landing City back street on Saronno. He didn’t want to hurt anyone that badly again. He was positive if he let loose again he would hurt someone even worse. Those two Bog-Irish caught the thin edge of his anger. His anger continued to grow even after that street fight. His family was all dead except Uncle Bruce, who probably sold him off to steal his land. He wondered if his uncle was behind the sabotage of his flitter. He was furious knowing someone else would harvest his next chiamra crop. Their farm was little more than a break-even activity, but the whole thing was his and he still wanted it. He was angry Grandpa had died and left him alone. He was angry his father had never come back to his mother. He felt like he had been born into wrath.

His anger became rage. He knew he had to duck Cruz and company because if they crowded him hard enough, he would fight back. He didn’t know the ship’s penalty for fighting, but he knew even if he didn’t win the fight that they’d know they badgered the wrong boy. He was concerned he would fight back too hard and hurt them over angers they had no part of.

He wouldn’t normally take the chance of cutting across the promenade, but the shortcut was the quickest way from his work area to his bedroom. He could have gone down two more decks and back up one to reach the training recruits dorm area. Going around was a long way and he was tired. He was too tired to make the extra long walk and he was too tired to face Cruz and his friends. He checked carefully before stepping out onto the promenade walkway.

The morning was still too new for most teenage boys to be out of bed, teenage boys being who they are. His dataport said today was Saturday, so many trainees had the day off. He didn’t know if Cruz or any of his clique had early morning shifts or if they were off duty. Most of the ship’s company had either Saturday or Sunday off, or both days. The promenade was one of the popular gathering spots on the ship. All day, on every Saturday and most of Sunday, enterprising crewmembers would throw open the doors of their shops and a variety of restaurants to sell items that weren’t available in ship’s stores or in the dining halls.

Tasso was still not used to having days off. Tio Gabe officially scheduled Tasso to work Monday through Friday. The old man insisted Tasso take two days off in a row. Such time not working was a luxury almost as amazing as a hot shower every day.

Actually, the old man had said, “Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time; for that is the stuff life is made of. Benjamin Franklin.”

Tasso didn’t know who Benjamin Franklin was, but he found he couldn’t take two days off in a row no matter who Franklin was. He could take a shower every day or almost every day if he remembered such a thing was available. He could eat at least once a day. He could change coveralls at least a couple times a week, if he remembered. However, he still had trouble remembering to take his days off.

He’d been working in the attic on Friday and had become completely wrapped up in digging through a pile of discarded and unused crates in a corner: sorting, cataloging, cleaning, and restacking. The end of his Friday workday had come and gone. Friday night had come and gone. Early Saturday morning arrived before Tasso realized he’d worked through the night. This wasn’t the first time in the last two months he’d worked around the clock. He had trouble remembering to stop without a sunset to guide him or Grandpa to tell him when quitting time was.

Tio Gabe would wander around, moving through the boxes, muttering and poking into various things. After a brief introduction to the work and a fleetingly brief tour of Aunt Aggie’s attic, the old man left Tasso alone. The attic was really an overly large storage bay where the crew dumped stuff that might have value, either real or sentimental. The storehouse was so huge that the piles of discarded goods didn’t start for a hundred yards from the main hatch and the piles themselves extended hundreds of yards in all directions. There was a wide space from the hatch to where the first pile was stacked from deck to ceiling. The barest of descriptions and functions of most things stored were missing and there wasn’t any log or item tag on anything. Crewmembers dumped piles of stuff wherever they could balance it on an existing pile.

Tasso took a cue from Tio Gabe and started in the back of the warehouse. He began by clearing a floor space to work. He tackled a stack and broke the pile down to component parts. He moved piles from one place to the next. One pile went by the main hatch for him to haul off for recycling, assuming he determined the item was junk. One pile went in another stack if the equipment wasn’t working but fixable. Whatever he found was stacked in a third pile if it worked properly. He logged everything into a database spreadsheet he found on the ship’s intranet.

Tasso couldn’t identify most items. He tried to ask Tio Gabe, but the man was hard to find, and when he could find the old man, he was harder to understand. Tasso read the manual corresponding to any piece of equipment he uncovered. He would simply label it unknown if there wasn’t a manual and document the database with a few pictures from his dataport.

Every day in the attic was like working through puzzle after puzzle. Time flew by. Tasso missed more than one day off. He’d even missed his first medical meeting, but Otto had come looking for him. He remembered the humiliating episode where he was dragged bodily through the corridors. He wouldn’t repeat that episode if he could help it. It embarrassed him, but Otto seemed to enjoy it.

He didn’t miss any of the endless series of educational tests. He didn’t miss any of the orientation seminars. He never missed any of his department staff meetings because the whole department was only Tio Gabe and him. The old man never scheduled any meetings. However, no one ever came looking for him if he missed a meal or if he slept on a pallet in the attic rather than heading back to his quarters.

For now, he eased around the corner of the promenade, wanting to get to his cabin, grab a shower, maybe even go grab a sandwich, and get back to work. He would’ve taken his shower in the middle of the night when there was less chance of running into Cruz and crew, if uncrating the first of a group of huge agricultural-processing machines hadn’t captured his attention.

The only person close to him was a blonde woman wrestling with a pallet jack. She was coming from the other direction, but there was plenty of room to pass her on the promenade. He took a deep breath, darted around the corner, and slammed into the woman. She’d turned to direct her cargo into the open door of a store just as he made his move, but the pallet jack shivered and ground to a stop directly in Tasso’s path. He tried to dodge her and her pile of boxes, but he only succeeded in missing the boxes.

“Ease up there, cowboy,” the woman said, grabbing him by the front of his coverall, keeping them both upright. Her strength surprised him as she kept them both on their feet. “You aren’t quite as easy to wrangle as a calf, and frankly, you don’t smell quite as good.”

Tasso blushed, “I’m sorry,
Señorita
. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was—”

“Nonsense,” she interrupted. “It’s the stupid pallet jack. Tham ding has been giving me fits all the way up from the receiving dock on Deck E.”

“Maybe I can help?” Tasso said.

“Thankee kindly, I always take all of the help I can get,” she grinned. “You seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere. Are you off duty? I don’t want to take up a young man’s Saturday.”

“Saturday? Um … I guess I am off duty, but I was heading to my quarters for a shower. Maybe I can see if I can get the pallet jack running.”

“I think the shower is a good idea for you, but I’m going to leave the jack right where it is for maintenance to drag away. I’ll just haul these boxes into my shop from here.”

Tasso smiled, “Well, I can surely help with carrying your goods.”

The woman held out her hand. “I’m Cherry Chisholm. And you are the famous Tasso Menzies, right?”

Tasso looked startled, “Famous? I … no … I’m ….”

Cherry laughed. “It hasn’t been so long since your taco
fiesta
on the observation deck.” Her eyes twinkled so prettily Tasso failed to be embarrassed. He realized that for an older woman she was gorgeous. He guessed she was almost thirty.

Cherry laughed again. “The vid of you and the spicy taco was on the shipnet for days until it was replaced by the vid of you trying to find out where to cook your own meals in the galley. Chef Enrique is still pissed you used his favorite pot to build a small fire. And there was the vid of you—”

Tasso shook his head. “Do I have a team of videographers following me around or what?”

Cherry pointed at the heavens and twirled her finger. “La Dueña Dunstan has cameras everywhere, but I do think someone in security is following your every move whenever Tio Gabe lets you out of the attic. By the way, that crazy old man is working you way too hard.”

“My grandfather always quoted someone named Emerson who said ‘the reward of a thing well done is to have done it’.”

Cherry nodded. “I never heard of this guy Emerson, but he sounds like a Texican. I accept your offer to wrangle a few boxes.” She grabbed a box and carried it into the store through the open glass door.

Tasso followed her with a box that was bigger than heavy. He stopped at the door and almost backed out. Women’s things filled all of the shelves, tables, hooks, and racks. There were hats, gloves, and sparkly blouses with fringe. There were garments that Tasso could only image their use, including a whole section of what Grandpa had called ‘over the shoulder boulder holders’. Tasso blushed and froze, not able to back out because he offered to help and not able to move forward into such unfamiliar territory.

Cherry either didn’t notice his blush or refused to notice. “Put that box on top of the other one. Come on, Señor Menzies. If you’re gonna help, get to it.” She turned and called to someone in the back room. “Ain, those morons shorted us on the hair ribbons—”

Tasso set the boxes down and went back out to the promenade. He kept an eye out both ways, but didn’t see Cruz and company as he moved box after box. It took hardly any time before he was carrying the last box into the store. The entire time, Cherry was carrying on a conversation with someone named Ain in the back room. Ain never stepped into sight and her voice hushed to a whisper whenever Tasso was close enough to hear.

Tasso waited for a break in the conversation and said “Miss Chisholm, I’ve—”

“Stop,” Cherry said. “Chisholm is as good a name as any the San Crockett Orphanage gave anyone, but I’m Cherry, you hear? You call me miss again and I’m going to dog slap you.”

Tasso wasn’t entirely sure what a dog was, not ever having read a manual on one’s operation. He didn’t know why you would want to slap one. He wasn’t even sure how you might slap a dog that implied its own brand of hostility.

Tasso started, “Yes, ma’am—”

“Stop,” Cherry interrupted again. She sighed and shook her head. “Listen, Tasso, if we’re going to be friends, you need to call me by my chosen name. When I was twelve, they gave me the last name Chisholm, but I got to pick my own first name. I liked being called Cherry then and I like it now. Therefore, it’s Cherry; it’s not ma’am, miss, blondie or fatass pain-in-the-butt. You get all that?”

Tasso nodded shyly. “I’m not sure I know how to do that.”

“What?” Cherry asked. “You can’t say Cherry?”

“Cherry I can do,” Tasso said. “I’m not sure I know how to be friends.”

“Dang me if I ain’t some kind of jetsam magnet.” Cherry shook her head. She shouted into the back room. “Sorry, Ain, I didn’t mean that like it sounds.”

Tasso saw another blond-haired woman peak around the corner. All he could see was a drape of blonde hair and the corner of a smile. He had gone for two months on the ship surrounded by people with hair as dark as his. Now, all of a sudden he was in a room with two blonde-haired women.

Ain said, “Peace be with you, Cherry. You are my friend. I am distressed only your words may have brought issue to your calm.”