Sergei Lukyanenko - The Genome

“No,” Alex forced himself to say.

Respect lit up Generalov’s eyes for a moment.

“You are a strong man, Captain. What’s your sign?”

“Aries.”

“And I’m a Virgo.” Generalov smiled. “It’s a good combination, you know. We’ll get along. Give me that contract of yours!”

Alex silently handed him the form.

Puck looked through the standard lines, shrugged at the numbers.

“Not bad…”

He licked his finger and pressed it down to the identification point. Then he separated the sheet in half, gave one part of it back to Alex, and stuck the other into a pocket on his kilt.

“You are now a crew member of the spaceship Mirror ,” Alex told him.

At this, Generalov straightened up, as though he had been pierced through with a stiff pole, and his face lost the smirk he’d been wearing.

“Your orders, Captain.”

Only his eyes still retained a tiny spark of irony.

“To change into a standard navigator uniform. Get rid of facial paint. Be at the ship tomorrow at nine a.m.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

“That will be all.”

“Permission to spend the evening in the bar, Captain.”

“That is your business,” said Alex after a moment’s contemplation. “But I need you to be in top working shape in the morning.”

“Of course.” Puck seemed to be waiting for other orders.

“Have you been job hunting a while?”

“A month.”

“Okay. Are there any master-pilots here in the hall?”

Generalov did not even look around.

“Only one. The one who approached you first.”

“All right… see you tomorrow.”

After the navigator left, Alex threw back his sake in one gulp. Found the waiter with a glance, made a light gesture in the air, as if signing his check. That sly natural had really put one over on him! One should never underestimate the genetically unaltered, never! First that absurd question about his attitude toward gays, as if it were any of the captain’s business who his crewmembers slept with. And then, after Alex had declared that he wasn’t biased, came the real blow.

A navigator who was a natural… impossible!

And what would be the reaction of the other crewmembers? Janet, who had five specializations? The young engineer, just out of college?

Well, if any of them protested, that would be another reason to back out… no, unfortunately, Janet had not signed the contract yet. Unless Paul Lourier refused to trust his life to a natural…

For a second, a crazy thought flashed through Alex’s mind—what if he were to ask, or even to order, the engineer to oppose Generalov’s candidacy? Paul had signed the contract earlier, and from a formal point of view, Alex had a duty to consider his opinion.

The thought came and passed, leaving an unpleasant trace. On one point, Generalov was absolutely right. Lying was hard for pilots. This was part of the price they paid for the stars. Along with their inability to love other humans.

A waiter came. Alex paid his bill and quickly left the dining hall. Two vacancies remained unfilled, but he had an idea about one of them. It was a crazy idea, but it was worth a try.

The hotel front desk had yet another clerk behind it this time. This fellow did not pay any attention to Alex and beamed at the mere sight of the captain’s uniform. Such important customers were rare at the Hilton.

Alex went up to his room and touched the doorbell sensor. Caught himself feeling intensely curious. Had Kim really waited for him, or had she preferred to disappear, having first cleaned out the room’s credit line?

One always had to pay for believing in people’s honesty. But Alex found a strange, perverse pleasure in it on those rare occasions when his faith was vindicated.

Kim opened the door.

She had waited!

Alex shook his head, though he was glad to see the unfeigned joy on the girl’s face.

“Kim… I asked you to block the door. You didn’t even look through the peephole.”

“How do you know?”

“When the door camera is on, the lens turns on an infrared light. I can see it clearly.”

“Oh…” Kim stepped back from the door to let him pass. “Well… I didn’t have to look. I knew it was you.” Now it was Alex’s turn to be surprised.

“How did you know?”

“By the sound of your steps. You have a peculiar walk, as if you’re trying not to lift your feet from the floor.”

“Oh? I hadn’t ever noticed…” Alex closed the door. Looked down at his feet. “Do I drag my feet?”

“You don’t drag them, you just hurry to put them back down. And you never let both feet leave the ground at the same time!” Kim jumped up. “What are you so serious about? I am sorry I didn’t look through the peephole. I’ll get in the habit, I promise!”

“If both your feet leave the ground, that means you’re running…” Alex bit his lip. Both your feet… and if your feet and legs and pelvis leave without your consent, that’s called a work-related injury. “Kim, I get it. There’s no artificial gravity on Hamsters and other system freighters. I trained on those for about six months. And got used to depending on Velcro. Or maybe it was a part of my specialization. To never lose my balance points.”

Kim’s interest in the subject seemed to be exhausted.

“That’s great. Very useful precaution, friend-spesh. See how I’ve spent your money?”

She spread out her arms and whirled around, all the while trying to keep him in her field of vision.

“I see. You’ve changed.”

Her worn-out jeans and sweater had been replaced by a black pantsuit. In it, Kim resembled a young professional. Her white blouse and a tiny black tie further enhanced this resemblance.

“Does it look good on me?” asked Kim.

“Yes, very good.”

The girl smiled.

“And you look good in your uniform.”

“You even look a little older,” Alex continued. “You might pass for someone who’s had her metamorphosis six months ago and been through some accelerated training courses already.”

“Why? Is that important?”

“Probably. We have to talk, Kim.”

She immediately got serious. Alex took her by the hand, led her into the room, and made her sit down in a chair. He sat down in front of her, then got out his cigarettes and lit up.

“Give me a cigarette.”

Alex lit another cigarette and handed it to her.

“We have to talk” is a magic phrase. One of the few that instantly puts a person into a serious mode. No one ever says it in order to talk about the weather or to discuss weekend plans.

It is very instructive to watch the reaction of a person expecting a serious conversation. Some people get nervous, some withdraw into themselves, some prepare for a confrontation.

Kim simply braced herself.

“What is your name? Your full name?”

“Kim O’Hara.”

“How old are you?”

“Fourteen. As of one month ago.”

“Are you from Quicksilver Pit?”

“No.” Kim shook her head.

“Then where are you from?”

“I won’t answer that.”

Alex sighed. He never expected this conversation to be easy, but the girl’s tone of voice was really beginning to trouble him.

“Kim, I must know.”

“Why?”

The girl switched to a counterattack.

“Kim, do you have friends or relatives on Quicksilver Pit?”

Silence.

“How long have you been on this planet?”

“What is it to you?”

Great. Why did it have to be this way? You try to help, and all you get is ingratitude!

“All right.” Alex interrupted the silence that had stretched between them. “Let’s figure out why I need to know this. Yesterday, I pulled you through an off-track metamorphosis. Right?”