it going. Even Pendt could look that up in the Harland’s database. There were diagrams of how the port operated and maps detailing where merchants and their ships could dock. She did her best to picture the complex in her mind, but Arkady didn’t encourage imaginative thinking, and so Pendt was mostly limited to memorizing the files in the brief moments of her day when she wasn’t busy.
There was very little technical information in the files. Pendt didn’t know what the complex was made of or how many people lived on it. She didn’t know how the ore was extracted or where the miners were quartered. Only information pertinent to trading goods was provided, and even then, there was no indication of who, exactly, the captain would be trading with. Pendt didn’t think to ask who owned the mine these days. In her mind, everything operated like the Harland, and people were born to wherever they were meant to work. And no one would have answered her anyway.
They came into one of the docking clamps slowly. It was the first time Pendt had ever done anything but move forward in space. She couldn’t feel the minute changes in direction, not really, as Arkady brought the ship into port, but she could hear the engines rev and thrum with a new rhythm as the captain did her manoeuvres. Pendt wished she was important enough to be on the bridge, near her aunt’s porthole. She wanted to see. At least her brothers were also stuck in the windowless engine room. They wouldn’t be able to hold that over her.
The most unnerving moment was when the engines cut. Pendt fought off a wave of panic. In space, dead engines meant dead everyone. She’d imagined what quiet might feel like, but she wasn’t ready for the absence of sound in her ears or the stillness of the deckplates under her feet. The airlock must have connected. The storage bay doors might even be open by now. Pendt could be breathing the first molecules of new-to-her oxygen in her life.
The clock in the galley chimed, pulling her thoughts away from such ridiculous fancies. It didn’t matter where they were. Pendt’s job hadn’t changed, and it was almost time for dinner. Arkady would be gone, at least. The captain and her first officer would go to the complex for negotiations. Everyone else would go about their day almost as usual. There might be a bit less to do in the engine room, but there was never any possibility that Arkady would allow a single extra Harland off the ship.
Dr. Morunt appeared in the galley door. Pendt wasn’t entirely sure how to behave. The doctor had started eating in the mess more frequently, but she mostly left Pendt alone, which made her the nicest person on board. Lodia had gone to see the doctor that morning, just before leaving the ship, and carried a thermo-sealed case with her when she left the medical bay. Pendt had seen her only briefly, but it was enough time for her to be curious about what her mother was up to. The case had made Pendt uncomfortable. She sensed two halves that could never be the same whole, similar to each other and yet different in key ways that she could not identify. Lodia had taken the case off the ship. Whatever was in it, Arkady must be willing to trade with Alterra.
“Your mother has new caloric requirements,” Morunt said with no preamble. “Please ensure her portions reflect the changes.”
She handed Pendt a datachip, which Pendt inserted into the galley computer. It was true. Lodia Harland’s ration had been increased. There was no reason given, of course, but Pendt would not have asked questions anyway. She memorized the number automatically, instantly aware of how much food it represented. The computer readout told her that the difference would best be made up from the protein rations, not the vege-matter, but Pendt already knew that.
It wasn’t the same as when she’d changed her eye colour or regrown the fingernail. That was a powerful surge, a sense of rightness and being that she couldn’t deny. This was more of a comfort. A hug, if she’d ever received one. A reminder of what she could do, someday, and a reassurance that she hadn’t lost the ability from not using it.
“Thank you, Doctor,” Pendt said. “I will make the necessary adjustments.”
Morunt looked at her with that close examination Pendt always found unnerving. It was like the