Ghost Ship by Sharon Lee & Steve Miller

Author:Sharon Lee & Steve Miller [Lee, Sharon & Miller, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, General, Space Opera, Adventure, Fiction
ISBN: 9781439134559
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2011-08-02T04:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-THREE

Bechimo

“Good shift, Bechimo,” Theo said, taking her place in the pilot’s chair, mug in hand.

“Good shift, Theo Waitley.”

No “Captain,” was it? Theo thought. Well, that sort of clarified the order in which she was going to raise her several topics of discussion. She glanced at the calm blues drifting in Screen Six.

“I reviewed the information regarding the bonding ceremony,” she said. “It’s actually not that much different than a ceremony I’ve already shared, to celebrate a short-term bond. My mother was present at that ceremony, and my genetic father, as well as my bond-mate and his mother. It seems to me that the . . . Builders had also intended there to be witnesses to the ceremony between ship and captain, to create a . . . shared memory of joy and completeness.”

“The Builders had intended the entire population of the ship to witness the bonding,” Bechimo agreed. “However, it may be, Theo Waitley, that I have . . . acted precipitously. The bonding may not be . . . appropriate.”

So, Bechimo had been doing some thinking, too. That was good, she told herself tentatively.

“Where I grew up—on Delgado—it was assumed that the bond might need some time to ripen, before the ceremony,” Theo said slowly. “I’d known my bond-mate there for—some time, and we knew that we respected each other and could work together. You and I”—She took a breath—“we still need to get to know each other. I think we’ve got a good start on working together, but there’s a lot more we don’t know about each other than we do.”

There was a silence; in the screen, the colors faded, then came into sharp focus—almost, Theo thought, as if she’d startled the AI.

“I concur. There is still much to learn.”

“And learning takes time,” Theo added. “What I propose is that we both agree that I’m captain, in the sense that I’m first board, and we revisit the question of bonding in—a Standard Year.”

“Is that a customary unit of time?”

For who? Theo thought. There’d been one boy in Culture Club—Bova, his name had been—who’d been obsessed with marriage and mating customs. From him, Theo and the rest of the club had learned that some marriages depended upon the participating parties having never met, while other cultures insisted on a five-season courtship. Still . . .

“I think a year would give me enough time and experience of you to decide whether or not our bonding would be . . . in the best interests of the ship,” she said carefully. “And it would give us time to get you crewed up,” she added, not sure if that was a smart thing to say.

“Yes,” Bechimo said, like it was a brand-new thought. “We can bring on crew.”

Theo drank some tea, and leaned to the board, bringing up the screens, pulling in local readings. It wasn’t quite a fidget, though she took some calmness from the commonplace of the work.

“Now that we have that decided, we can start to work on our first real problem,” she said, sliding a sideways glance at Number Six.

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