Saxon sat on the floor next to the desk in his tiny room and pondered what Candeleria had just told him.
For the longest time, Saxon had hitched his star to Judit. He’d been faithful to her. Possibly to a fault.
Now, he was being given the opportunity to turn away, slightly, from his captain. To instead, be tied to the ship.
Was that what he wanted?
The single chair in the room wasn’t sized appropriately for a Yu’udir. That meant he could sit on the floor or on the bed.
He knew that Menefry always laid flat on his back to pray to his Goddess. While that wasn’t as much of a vulnerable position for a Yu’udir, Saxon still laid down on the scratchy carpet and looked up, toward the ceiling, as he considered his options.
What did he want?
If he was honest with himself, he wanted to be able to go home, to visit his family. He doubted that Flora would ever forgive him or welcome him back—she was too stubborn and set in her ways to do that—but she hadn’t cast him off, either. His nieces and nephews could get to know him, apart from the stories that she told. Then they would get to choose, later, as adults, if they wanted to continue to know him or not.
He wanted to be able to provide for them, as he always had, sending part of his regular salary back to them. It kept him tied there. Even though he was officially dead, and had no legal responsibility anymore.
Did he want another tie? One to the ship? This wasn’t a temporary contract with easy loopholes. This was a commitment for life.
A knock on the door disturbed his thoughts. “Come in!” he called, knowing who it would be.
He wasn’t disappointed. Judit’s voice floated down. “Nice impression of a fur rug you got there.”
Saxon snorted but didn’t bother moving. First came a sigh, then he heard Judit lying down, perpendicular to him, their feet close but not touching.
“I take it you talked with Candelaria,” Saxon said after a few moments of shared silence.
“I did,” Judit said. She sighed again. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Saxon said. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”
“I don’t know,” Judit said. “On the one hand, I’d like to continue flying Eleanor. The controls have all been adjusted just right. She’s the most responsive ship I’ve ever had. I like the crew.”
“Really?” Saxon interrupted.
“Yes, really,” Judit snapped at him. “All right, even Kim is okay most of the time.”
Saxon smiled but kept any commentary to himself.
“I just…I don’t know. It feels like signing up for a long run, you know?” Judit finally admitted.
Saxon nodded. Yes, that was it exactly. A short run went from one of the hypergates to a planet in a matter of days, if not hours. A long run took months.
Judit had always been adamant about not signing up for long runs. Saxon understood why. The same crew, the same ship, the same routine day in and day out, would make him a little stir crazy as well. Supposedly, the Yu’udir were better suited for that sort of thing, given the long winters on their home world, where they’d been forced to stay inside.
Other Yu’udir. Saxon had grown used to variety, to change, in part because of Judit. Or maybe he’d always been that way, which was why he’d left his own home world as soon as he’d been able to.
“There’s no guarantee that this procedure will work,” Saxon pointed out. “Expanding the pod might be insufficient for Eleanor and the others.”
“Candelaria did say it would be reversible, though we probably wouldn’t notice any difference either way,” Judit said. “But it’s still experimental.”
“Just like the ship,” Saxon said.
“I wouldn’t have volunteered for Arthur’s program,” Judit said hotly. “I was forced into it.”
“Not even now?” Saxon asked, curious. “Now that you’ve flown Eleanor, gotten to know her capabilities?”
The silence that filled the room after that was telling.
“I do want to keep flying Eleanor,” Judit admitted after a few moments. “This is just a pretty hefty price. You know?”
“I do,” Saxon said. “I also have my doubts. And am not thrilled about continuing to be part of a science experiment.”
“But?” Judit prompted. “I hear a big ol’ ‘but’ still hanging out there.”
It was Saxon’s turn to sigh.
“But, I am also curious about what these changes would mean. How they would feel, if I’d notice them at all,” Saxon said. “I also enjoy Eleanor and her crew. And I don’t want to abandon the pod. It would feel as though I’m jettisoning off of a craft after an explosion, safe and secure in a lifeboat, knowing that some of the crew was still on board.”
“I have those same thoughts and feelings,” Judit admitted. “Eleanor, Gawain, and Abban are part of my crew. And you don’t abandon crew.”
“So what are you going to do?” Saxon said after another long silence. He gently poked Judit’s foot with his own.
“Sign up for the long run,” Judit said all in a rush. “And tell myself that it won’t be that bad. There will still be different runs, different cargoes, new places to explore. New bars to find, new fights to have.”
“One day at a time, eh?” Saxon said, feeling a giddy relief.
Judit had committed. And now, so could he.
“Egyszerre egy kecske. One goat at a time,” Judit told him. “A saying of my mother’s, commenting on the ridiculousness of life.”
“Indeed,” Saxon said. “Sound advice.”
“Pffft,” was Judit’s reply, blowing what Humans called a raspberry at him.
After Judit had gone, Saxon stayed where he was, on his back on the scratchy carpet, looking up at the textured white ceiling. It had a slight sheen to it, and he could almost place stars against it.
Up and away. That had always been the answer for him. Even if his feet were tied to the earth, to his family, his heart was in the stars.
Becoming part of a spaceship was only a further enhancement of his being. Nothing more, nothing less. The problems, as they came up, could be dealt with.
One goat at a time.