Atalan Adventure Pack: Books 1-3 (Atalan Adventures) by R.M. Hamrick

Author:R.M. Hamrick [Hamrick, R.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-26T22:00:00+00:00

SIX

It took many hours which felt like many days of cleaning before the ship started to feel potentially hygienic again. Even still their memories of the post-slaughter scene would taint their view of the bridge for many weeks to come. As would the few pieces that had melted onto the dorsal sensor coils for the bridge door. Meanwhile, packages with red beacons continued to propagate.

The sisters had yet to wake up and Frankie knew they’d have to reach out to the next ship. Corporate, independent, legal or suspicious, it didn’t matter. She just didn’t know how to explain that to Quaja.

Turns out she didn’t need to tell her anything.

*Ladies, I invite you to the cargo bay.* Quaja’s voice came through the intercom.

“What now?” Frankie sighed. It felt the ship had been turning against her and now there was something wrong with the cargo bay.

Unable to politely RSVP, ‘No, I’d rather sit in denial,’ the trio descended onto the cargo bay. A cloth sheet covered the center high-top work table and hid the grease stains of mechanical work and the water rings of countless beer bottles. It had been set for four.

“Please sit!” called out Quaja from the back room.

Gail stomped excitedly ahead. Tarke slunk cautiously as if this might be the long-con Quaja had going to hijack the ship. If that truly was the case, they wished she had done it much earlier. They had all been very bored and a hijacking would have improved the situation.

Each place setting was unique to set-ee. On one side, Earth-traditional dinner plate, salad bowl, and four or five unnecessary utensils graced the table. A thin vase held a yellow flower with a brown center.

“Brown eyed Gails! My favorite flower and Dad’s nickname for me.” Her eyes dampened with tears.

Tarke opened her mouth to point out that the flower was actually a Brown Eyed Susan, and Gail, in fact, had green eyes. Frankie pressed an elbow into Tarke’s side, causing her to yelp in surprise and forget what she intended to say, and Gail’s childhood was not ruined by facts.

Tarke instead slipped into the bucket seat in front of a broad, shallow ceramic bowl which had a rise in the center so that the bowl’s contents would fall to the sides. There were no utensils but at the top corner of the place mat there was a small box for Tarke to drop her current chewing gum. She pulled her legs and feet into her seat and sighed in contentment.

While Tarke and Gail had place settings of a single tradition, Frankie noticed hers had no clear parentage. At the head of the setting, pink and green crystals skittered on a saucer-sized hot plate. Beside it a double-walled glass cup held water and lemon. Traditional Caffex called for citric acid only, no fruit, but Frankie did prefer it this way. Her plate was almost a bowl, its edges coming up on all sides in a flattened wok shape. Chopsticks sat next to the plate, and not the smooth-coated ones, but the cheap disposable ones that had a lot of grip.

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