dignified, oddly civilised for having avoided the argument so far.
‘May I make a suggestion? Among our people there is a custom for resolving disputes of this sort so that all have an equal chance to make their point, and none lose honour by doing so.’
‘Does this by any chance involve an arena and sharp knives?’ Carveth said.
The alien said, ‘You’ve done it too?’
‘Let’s take it easy,’ Carveth said. ‘Talk first, decapitations later.’
‘Huh,’ Suruk replied. ‘There is a reason why we refer to you as puny humans.’
‘Captain Smith,’ Rhianna began, ‘I can understand you’re in a difficult position at the moment. But I really think you ought to make an effort to relax—’
‘She’s right,’ Carveth put in. ‘No offence, but you’re pretty anally retentive. I’d put big money that you’ve sat on a broom before and found it was gone when you stood up. If your arse gets any tighter you’ll crap spaghetti.’
Rhianna smiled. ‘Well, perhaps that’s a bit hard, Polly.’
‘Only if you’re a repressed neurotic.’
‘Right!’ cried Smith, leaping to his feet. ‘I am not a repressed neurotic and I don’t want to talk about it ever again!’
He stormed off into the trees.
‘Curious,’ Suruk said.
Rhianna started to put her shoes on. This took a lot of concentration.
‘I’ll do it,’ Carveth said. ‘You stay here.’
Smith had gone ten yards before he realised that there was nowhere to go to, but he was obliged to go thirty more before he could stop and try to work out what to do. He wondered what it was that had sent him storming out of the group like a pellet shot from a rubber band. Only as he stood here, the midges buzzing around his head, did he realise that he couldn’t tell what was driving him. Carveth’s obvious incompetence? No. He did not even think she truly was incompetent. She had made an excellent job of landing a crippled ship. No matter how irritating she might be, it was largely due to her flying skills that they had landed without being reduced to the consistency of Marmite.
Of course, that didn’t stop her from being a lazy pain in the arse.
And then there was Rhianna. Rhianna, with her nonsense about holding hands and chanting to the great pixie, her meditation and lentil food, her nice ankles and long brown hair. She meant well, of course, and that was the problem. Her motives were good – and her physique, he suspected, was excellent. And he had no idea how to get her, either. For all that it mattered, she might as well have been on the other end of the galaxy.
He stood there, the hot night air close around him like a blanket, and realised where his anger really came from. Fleet control had set him up. He had been given this mission not because he was a brilliant captain but the opposite. Khan had chosen him as the kind of fool who would negotiate space with the casual grace of a toddler in a bathtub, leaving so many bubbles in his wake that the Ghasts could not fail to notice. Then the Ghasts would make their move, and then the Tenacious would spring on them, save the day and reveal the predatory attacks the aliens were making on Imperial shipping. And in the process, save the idiot crew of the John Pym from their own stupidity. It was not him who was supposed to protect Rhianna at all. He had never been expected to do anything except look like an easy target. That knowledge stung.
‘Boss.’ Carveth approached, a beer bottle in each hand.
‘Fancy a bribe?’
‘Please,’ he said. He took the bottle she held out.
‘Thank you. You’ve not poisoned it?’
‘Absolutely not.’ She waited until he took a swig and said, ‘Spit isn’t poisonous, is it?’
Smith whirled around and she grinned at him. Smith forced a smile back.
‘You know, you’d be right about all of this,’ she said,
‘all this stoned on the job stuff, if I really was a pilot.’
He stopped smiling. ‘What? I don’t understand,’ he said.
‘I’m not
‘May I make a suggestion? Among our people there is a custom for resolving disputes of this sort so that all have an equal chance to make their point, and none lose honour by doing so.’
‘Does this by any chance involve an arena and sharp knives?’ Carveth said.
The alien said, ‘You’ve done it too?’
‘Let’s take it easy,’ Carveth said. ‘Talk first, decapitations later.’
‘Huh,’ Suruk replied. ‘There is a reason why we refer to you as puny humans.’
‘Captain Smith,’ Rhianna began, ‘I can understand you’re in a difficult position at the moment. But I really think you ought to make an effort to relax—’
‘She’s right,’ Carveth put in. ‘No offence, but you’re pretty anally retentive. I’d put big money that you’ve sat on a broom before and found it was gone when you stood up. If your arse gets any tighter you’ll crap spaghetti.’
Rhianna smiled. ‘Well, perhaps that’s a bit hard, Polly.’
‘Only if you’re a repressed neurotic.’
‘Right!’ cried Smith, leaping to his feet. ‘I am not a repressed neurotic and I don’t want to talk about it ever again!’
He stormed off into the trees.
‘Curious,’ Suruk said.
Rhianna started to put her shoes on. This took a lot of concentration.
‘I’ll do it,’ Carveth said. ‘You stay here.’
Smith had gone ten yards before he realised that there was nowhere to go to, but he was obliged to go thirty more before he could stop and try to work out what to do. He wondered what it was that had sent him storming out of the group like a pellet shot from a rubber band. Only as he stood here, the midges buzzing around his head, did he realise that he couldn’t tell what was driving him. Carveth’s obvious incompetence? No. He did not even think she truly was incompetent. She had made an excellent job of landing a crippled ship. No matter how irritating she might be, it was largely due to her flying skills that they had landed without being reduced to the consistency of Marmite.
Of course, that didn’t stop her from being a lazy pain in the arse.
And then there was Rhianna. Rhianna, with her nonsense about holding hands and chanting to the great pixie, her meditation and lentil food, her nice ankles and long brown hair. She meant well, of course, and that was the problem. Her motives were good – and her physique, he suspected, was excellent. And he had no idea how to get her, either. For all that it mattered, she might as well have been on the other end of the galaxy.
He stood there, the hot night air close around him like a blanket, and realised where his anger really came from. Fleet control had set him up. He had been given this mission not because he was a brilliant captain but the opposite. Khan had chosen him as the kind of fool who would negotiate space with the casual grace of a toddler in a bathtub, leaving so many bubbles in his wake that the Ghasts could not fail to notice. Then the Ghasts would make their move, and then the Tenacious would spring on them, save the day and reveal the predatory attacks the aliens were making on Imperial shipping. And in the process, save the idiot crew of the John Pym from their own stupidity. It was not him who was supposed to protect Rhianna at all. He had never been expected to do anything except look like an easy target. That knowledge stung.
‘Boss.’ Carveth approached, a beer bottle in each hand.
‘Fancy a bribe?’
‘Please,’ he said. He took the bottle she held out.
‘Thank you. You’ve not poisoned it?’
‘Absolutely not.’ She waited until he took a swig and said, ‘Spit isn’t poisonous, is it?’
Smith whirled around and she grinned at him. Smith forced a smile back.
‘You know, you’d be right about all of this,’ she said,
‘all this stoned on the job stuff, if I really was a pilot.’
He stopped smiling. ‘What? I don’t understand,’ he said.
‘I’m not
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