Boro and Memsala, who had not yet heard the news about Ss’klexna Rrr’tak’fi, wondered why everyone was very quiet on the flight back to the tropical island that had been Manessa’s base of operations for several Satamia days.
After Boro toweled off and slipped into a dry robe, Sata snuggled close beside him in the passenger area. He could see that she had been crying. He guessed she was off-duty for some serious reason, not just normal crew rotations.
“You . . . want to talk about anything?” he asked her softly.
She shook her head. “You’ll hear all about it . . . as soon as we land.”
He held her close and gazed at the large screen over the steward’s station as the ocean flashed by beneath the ship.
Rini hobbled out of the ship very slowly, with Mati on one side and Ilika on the other. Ashley and Kibi carried T’sss’lisss on a large pillow. By the time everyone had gathered on the sand in a half-circle at the water’s edge, or was floating in the warm tropical water nearby, Boro was painfully aware that one of their contact specialists was missing, and the bear couldn’t still be working in the field because her helper was right here.
Sata took a slow breath. “I tried to get out of this. I begged Ashley to do it, or Kolarrr’ka, or someone.”
Respectful eyes met hers all around the circle.
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“I finally got it through my head that no one could really do this but me. I was there. I know what Ss’klexna was thinking, if anyone still alive does.”
Boro put the pieces together and felt a deep sense of sadness.
“She wasn’t supposed to do what she did. She wasn’t supposed to knowingly walk into mortal danger. And yet . . . she had several reasons for doing it — all of them good reasons — and I guess . . .” Sata paused to rub her eyes. “. . . I guess if I had that many good reasons for . . . dying . . . I would have done it too . . .”
The crew, mission leaders, and contact specialists talked for hours, sharing memories of Ss’klexna Rrr’tak’fi, many different opinions about the reasons she had done what she did, and how the remainder of the mission was affected.
Boro noticed that the eldest two — Memsala and Malika-Terno — seemed to be most sympathetic to Ss’klexna’s decision, and the younger ones felt she should have found a way to come back alive. Sata was the exception, joining the elders.
Everyone finally fell silent as the sun prepared to set over the ocean. One by one they looked at Kolarrr’ka to see if he had any more mission activities planned for that day.
He looked at Ashley.
“There is one more thing we simply must do today,” she began, “partly in honor of Ss’klexna, who would have loved what we are about to share. But perhaps more importantly, it will lift our spirits.”
Several people wore knowing smiles. Others looked clueless.
“I realize some of you will not enjoy these treats as much as monkey mammals, so the crew has also prepared a tasty green salad for our equine, and something fishy for our aquatic friends.”
Memsala, Trekila Spimalo, and the young cetacean memory specialist, all squawked or splashed from the water’s edge.
Ashley smiled. “For weeks now, I have been trying to serve a delicious fruit that I know from my home planet, but every time I was about to bring some down from the trees, or cut it into chunks I could carry, or stow it somewhere it would ripen, we had to dash off to move a contact specialist
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from somewhere to somewhere else . . .”
All the contact specialists laughed, but none appeared to feel guilty over the issue.
“Well,
I
finally got it done, and the crew has been helping me make fruit salads, pies, and several other things from these long, yellow fruits.” She held one up, peeled it half-way, and took a bite.
“Are you sure it isn’t sapient?” Trekila Spimalo asked from the water.
“Very sure!” Ashley replied as everyone else howled or squawked with laughter.
NEBADOR Book Nine: A Cry for Help 359
Part 7: Ko-tera Three, 3671