~
Hours later Paean stumbled into the galley. She found Federi sleeping with his head on his arms at the big black Ironwood table. The attempts of making himself a cup of coffee were standing on the working surface at the coffee station. Despite its rubberised bottom the cup had slipped right up to where the raised rim stopped it from falling off. There was no rim stopping Federi from sliding off the table. But Paean suspected that he had developed a special kind of seafarer’s glue that stuck him into place. She had experience herself by now. It was called subconsciously clinging to the mattress. Or whatever. She left Federi’s coffee in peace and got coffee for herself.
Doc Judith had been happy to see Wolf’s condition improved, though he was far from recovered. She had given him the task of watching over Marsden’s vital signs. Ailyss had been called in to help too. She was to watch over both patients and call the doctor if necessary. Paean had noticed how relief had spread across Wolf’s stressed face on seeing Ailyss. It had her wondering.
“I hate seeing grown men immobilized like that,” said Paean to herself, settling down by the table waiting for the water to boil. She studied Federi’s black hair that had fallen in strands across his face. And his headscarf, that seriously needed a wash. It had been immersed in muddy water and had dried by now. And his sleeves, his shirt – drying blood. The gypsy was a mess. She shook her head. “Yodiho and a bottle of. Whatever! Valeriensis!”
“Ha,” mumbled the recumbent form of Federi. “You should have seen them on the Rebel Schooner! They were far more immobilizeder!”
Paean peered at his eyes under all that hair. They were still shut.
“Shall I make you your coffee now?” she asked.
“That’ll be nice,” muttered Federi without moving. “You and Shawn did a good job with the deck. How many stitches for Marsden?”
“Two hundred and sixteen,” said Paean, smiling. “Just about four times as many as Wolf – but then I did Wolf’s over about four times, so I suppose they’re even.”
“Wolf nearly died there, earlier, didn’t he?”
“Who told you?”
“You were broadcasting it,” said Federi. His black eyes were open now, gazing at her. “You were stretched very thin when you visitated – er – spectred – whatever one calls it –”
“Gods, Federi! He had the Fever!”
“You sound like someone from the Middle Ages,” smiled Federi.
“You’ve no idea!”
“Aw, little luv!” Federi straightened out and reached for her hand. Poor little hummingbird! “I think I know. But on the Solar Wind we’ve got medicines, and we’ve got Doc. Can’t tell you how many times she’s pulled us out of death’s clutches.”
“She’s brilliant,” said Paean.
“You’re not alone anymore, Paean,” said Federi soothingly. “You don’t have to do it alone. You’re really only the assistant. Wolf is Doc’s responsibility.”
Paean smiled, relieved.
“Seems like both of us had a friend to keep alive,” said Federi. “Was touch and go for Marsden there, too! Wanted to keep my tabs on him, but you saw…”
Yes, Paean had seen. Federi got crowded out.
“Is he still critical?” he asked.
“Doc’s got him stabilized. They tapped Ronan quite a bit, he may need something potent later on… Marsden will be fine. It’s Doc who stitched him, not some bleeding amateur.”
“And they’re clean cuts,” replied Federi. “Easier than that patella. Lots of ammo on that ship,” he said dreamily, “Anyone looting?”
“I think, everybody,” said Paean. “Sherman’s on the bridge. Of the Solar Wind. Ronan’s sleeping and Ailyss is watching the patients.”
“Shukar,” commented Federi.
It was good to make light conversation. Good to touch sides and know tangibly that he had come back, he had survived. He had kept his promise.
Now that the danger was over, it worried her that she had been able to access the Romany telepathically. It worried her even more that everyone knew about it.
“Hope it doesn’t upset Shawn too much,” said Federi with a wink.
“What? What would upset him?”
“All the dead terrorists…”
Paean finished preparing coffee. She handed Federi his mug. Dead terrorists. A heap of poor chained skeletons in the bilges of a sunken cruise liner. A chewed-off finger, a dead hobo in a cave. What a place!
She didn’t know the half of it, thought Federi. An ancient sunken cruiser that hadn’t been there last time round! A vanishing lizard! At least, they suspected it might only be one, but for all they knew… A politically active vanishing lizard, to boot!
“You look wiped out,” she commented.
“May I return the compliment,” Federi smiled.
“Are you hurt?”
“Not so I’d notice,” said the gypsy. “They kicked old Federi about a bit, that’s all. And after that, they got hurt. Not me.”
“Aw, Federi… you still angry with me?”
“Angry? Why?” He frowned, mystified. He’d never been angry! Not that he could recall.
“I betrayed our friendship! I told the Captain about the data capsule and all that!”
“You were being sensible,” said Federi. “You’ve probably saved Captain from walking into the same trap. Was hoping you’d tell him! Glad to have you for a telepathic ally! Makes things a lot easier!” He grinned.
“So we’re still friends?”
“Course!” Federi smiled broadly, shaking his head. “Silly girl!”
“And…” she hesitated. He raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re not angry about what I said earlier?”
“About the Tzigany?” Aha! So he was!
Federi smiled and shook his head. “No, little luv. Got to educate you a bit, that’s all. You didn’t know, you come from a –“ he sighed. “A gadjo family. Didn’t want to say it that way. The gadje have all sorts of preconceived ideas about gypsies.” He rolled his eyes. “Too tired to go into that now, see.”
“I’m sorry,” said Paean contritely. He grinned at her and sipped his coffee.
“ ‘s fine.”
There was something Shawn had said. And the Captain.
“Tell me about that stiletto?”
“What stiletto?” asked Federi innocently.
“The one you were holding there in the…” Doubts assaulted her. What if she had only dreamt the whole thing? “I thought I saw…” She went silent.
Federi smiled thoughtfully.
“That’s the thing,” he said. “The fine line between illusion and dreams and psychic impressions. And wishful thinking. They really are all the same. And nobody believes us anyway. So how would we ever really know?”
“But was it real?” she wanted to know.
Federi smiled at her, left eyebrow arched. She suddenly understood that he had answered her question before she asked it. She blinked. Mind games!
Wishful thinking?! Hey!
“You killed them all single-handedly?”
“Both hands, little hummingbird. Never try stunts in a life-and-death situation. Oh, and your green bug helped.”
“But how did you do it?” she asked, incredulous.
“You who pass out at the sight of blood,” he warned her, “do you really want to hear it?”
She nodded.
“One by one,” he said, “quietly, from behind.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. The worst one of the nightmares he was waiting for tonight was the one in which his body went around breaking the necks of all his friends and shipmates and his mind looked on helplessly, unable to bring the demon under control. Worse than all the ghosts of all the guys he’d had to terminate today. “I’m a coward, sweetheart,” he added, getting up. “Come, Paean. I need some fresh air. Let’s get on deck and watch those men at work. And one boy.”
>
They watched the men move the cargo from the Rebel Schooner onto the Solar Wind under the pre-dawn stars. The wind was still quite fresh, the sea quite high after the storm. Federi took out Ronan’s pennywhistle and blew a wistful Romanian tune. Paean picked up the tune after two repeats and started humming a second voice, so softly she was almost keeping it to herself.
Memory gallery, thought Federi. This was one of life’s undeserved treasures. Life itself was undeserved, in his case. He ought to have died years upon years ago, back in Romania. What he had turned into in his struggle to survive could hardly be called human. The sweeter this jewel of a moment, with his homesick tune elaborated on in pristine harmonies by this little songbird, this precious little redhead…
Minutes later both her brothers were there, instruments and all, turning the magical bubble into a Donegal Ceilidh.
“I think we declare Federi an honorary Donegal,” suggested Shawn. His sibs agreed, delighted.
Federi smiled sadly. Another undeserved treasure.
10th May 2116
Darling Katya…
Your brother is in trouble. You know I’ve got this streak. It comes out every time I have to pull a stunt like today. And you know whose bloodlines those are! Been my survival for many years. Now suddenly I wish it weren’t there!
Didn’t worry the little pirate though. Federi goes and kills a whole ship full of people, and the next thing these Donegals declare me an honorary brother of theirs! Have they no concept?
In which way are killings okay but stealing is not? How on Earth does the little alien’s mind work? And drinking! Hells, one shouldn’t touch alcohol! Quite glad for Wolf that he was out cold that night, he wouldn’t have heard the end of it! She probably chewed him out while Federi wasn’t there to protect him, the little terror! Doesn’t she get it? Men drink! Pirates steal! And her Federi is a murderer.
Must say, being adopted by the Donegals works better than that St John’s Wort!
Katya, my values used to be clear-cut. Federi used to have no conscience. And only one drive: Revenge. Now I’m trying to be honourable! When did this happen, that people started liking me? And now that they do, I can suddenly see what I am: A coward full of excuses. What’s there to like?
All this deep stuff! Wish it would just let me go! Not cut out for philosophy. Driving me nuts.
Kathal – and that’s another good question! Well, kathal, my sister
Your Federi