Charity by Julie E. Czerneda

Author:Julie E. Czerneda
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

What kind had newcomers been, Tissop wondered for the first time. What world, what life, could have favoured such frail bodies, such sensitive bulbous eyes, hands like an unborn child’s.

“My apologies. You’ve worked hard and need your rest,” Curtis said, words that would have been kind from Raekl or another denizen, but weren’t, not uttered through such thin, writhing lips. “I’ll tidy here, friend Tissop. Hopefully tomorrow will see good news and the end of all this.”

First frightened, then dismissed like a weary child. In his own home.

Instead of anger, Tissop felt lost and powerless. Without a word, he stuck his empty bulb to the table, unhooked his back feet, and pushed himself through the air. He’d sleep.

Tomorrow?

He’d try again. He had to.

The strings hummed along the corridor. Machines and newcomers slid along on the conveyors below, as many as before or more. The handful of denizens on the strings avoided looking at one another or down. 1055th Sanitation Engineer Tissop stared so intently at his snout he almost missed the decel string before the iris of his door and was forced like a fool to lunge with tail and hands to catch it in time.

He clung to the wall, loathe to enter.

Afraid, was the truth.

Oh, not of discovery. No one seemed to suspect him. But, no matter what he did, he couldn’t trap a single newcomer. Another pod, the third, would be sanitized—accidentally—at the end of this cycle and he had no greater hope for it.

He’d tried. He’d brought an extra scanner, had dared pretend to be inspecting pod-corridor connection ports to use it from every direction, even stood watching as newcomers entered and left, smiling at him as if they knew.

There’d been a new report. The Ship had budded a bad cluster, that was all. It wasn’t unheard of, though any flaws should have been caught during preparations. There’d be exhaustive tests run before the new pods were opened for habitation. Denizens were resourceful and resolute.

And missing.

If not officially admitted, the reason for the 1st priority could no longer be hidden. Denizens had failed to return to their homes. Had failed to arrive at work. Had vanished, so far as their neighbours knew, from the Ship. Three here. Two there. Heres and theres multiplied over and over until the numbers were appalling.

The restrictions on who could travel had been lifted; they had to be, denizens had to work, or crucial systems would begin to revert. The Ship must be tended.

Even if those who tended it were disappearing.

3rd divide, 7th cycle. The busiest time in a corridor. Shoulders hunched, Tissop made himself look along the homeward string. Made himself turn and look along the one heading out to the limit of the Ship.

He was alone. How could he be alone?

He made himself look down.

Newcomers looked up as they sped past in both directions. Offer our Shipmates space in your homes, the newsfeeds had urged last cycle. They’ve come forward to help in our time of need. Thank them.

What had he done?

Tissop thrust himself through the iris, desperate for the safety of home.

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