“Good afternoon, Captain Farrell, you are much clearer now," he said politely. "The engineers were able to raise the shuttle to a higher altitude."
"Hmph. Have you been able to do anything?”
“They were asking if The Voice had tractor beams.”
“Had what?”
“Tractor. Beams. I assumed you would know.”
“Wahlford, do you know what he’s saying?”
“No, and I’m not certain the translator does, either. Are you talking about farm equipment?” another male voice in the background asked. "Is this some sort of prank?"
“I don’t know why they call it that. I think it’s like a giant magnet,” I put in. “A force that just . . . sucks you up? A way to pick up something without landing and hauling it aboard yourself? Do you have a feature like that?”
“Check the manual,” Farrell ordered.
“I’m looking, I’m looking.”
“Who is that with you, Alpinia?”
“Wilrhyn is here.”
“What? You contacted her again? Haven’t you caused enough problems already? I told you to stay away until Tillock could get down there and handle everything properly! Gods damn it, Alpinia -”
“Hey, Captain Crankypants, keep your shirt on!” I snapped, as Rowan stiffened uncomfortably. “I contacted him!”
“What, that’s Aggi? Aggi?” A third voice cut in. “Aggi, it’s Milo!”
“Hello, hello, hello!” I chirped, surprised by the newest voice's excitement. The name and the voice were familiar, as weird as they sounded over the com.
He chuckled. “Elo, I can’t believe it! It’s so good to hear your voice! Our hearts were broken for you long ago. I never thought I would speak to you again, and here you are, speaking as brazenly as ever. Are you safe? Are you well? Damn these machines, I want to hold you again! Is she still lovely, Alpinia?”
Rowan’s eyebrows went way up. So did mine. For one of us to display that much emotion was a big deal.
Rowan leaned toward the speaker, eying me warily as I glared at him, daring him to give his opinion. “She looks healthy and . . . in good spirits,” he answered diplomatically.
“Pfah, ignore his petulance. Oh, my poor Blossom, what anguish you must have suffered, all these years alone! Your story will certainly excite the bards! Were there monsters in the Void? Did you visit many other worlds?”
“They’ll get bored really fast. There was an explosion, and then a whole lot of nothing. It was dark. I floated. I slept. Woke up on a beach. People call that a vacation here,” I babbled nervously at the familiar voice from my past. Old memories were popping up left and right, and I was starting to feel overwhelmed.
"I couldn't believe it when Alpinia told us he had met you! I gave him such a scolding about the poor manner in which he handled it."
I was beginning to feel sorry for Rowan. I'd been in this spot too many times myself. "Don’t be so hard on him. I wasn't exactly on my best behavior, either."
Milo laughed. "It always was your style, feint and run! Remember how many times you made Willaris chase you?"
Rowan leaned forward as I grappled futility with the past. “She came out of a long Torpor without assistance. She is fortunate to remember anything.”
“Of course,” he said, sounding a little disappointed. “I’m one of your companions. We grew up together. Do you remember me at all?”
“Yes, I remember you! You were the daring one, always wanting to travel.” I recalled. “Even more so than me.”
“Yes! I never thought it would be quite this far, though.”
“Didn’t you rate for administration? I remember how jealous you got when I went to sea.”
“I worked my way up to Royal Secretary, and turned out to be one of the few willing to keep up with Prince Elorhyn.”
“The prince broke free,” Rowan murmured to me. “He can travel where he pleases, even alone.”
“King Turin sends him on many diplomatic missions, although this one was considered a bit too dangerous. They rated me, though, and now I am serving as Void Ambassador.”
“Congratulations? Wait, King Turin? What happened to King Orion?”
“That is a story for later,” Rowan said quickly. “Milo, will you check the records for Wilrhyn’s family and friends?”
“This has already gone on too long,” Farrell cut in. “We are trying to solve a serious problem here -”
“Captain, this is our first official diplomatic contact! This is why we're out here! We have not spoken in . . . 323 years! You can spare us a few minutes while Wahlford goes through his notes,” Milo snapped imperiously. “Unless you’ve found something already, sir?”
“Not yet!”
“Well then. Aggi, dearest lost Blossom, I do not need to look in the records. It breaks my heart to give you the information you want. Can you bear it?”
“My parents are gone, then?” I guessed.
“We have mourned them - and you - these many years.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Honestly, I’m still amazed anyone survived. What about our companions? You’re not the only survivor, are you?”
“There are four others who thrive still. Lashrael Deerin, Rylla Cantis, Opal Thala, and Pelder Wain. Rylla and Pelder have a son and a daughter together.”
There had once been fifteen of us. I couldn't wrap my brain around it, and instead focused on the other surprise. “Really? They weren’t rated high enough to have multiple.”
“Our losses were so great, many restrictions were lifted. Even then we have struggled to bring our numbers back up. I pulled up our records, you were assigned to the Forthright Swan?”
“Yes.”
“Of the crew of the Swan, only Crewman Lachley survived the Destruction, but - oh, this mention may pain you, Alpinia. He was one of those lost in the attack on the Silken Whisper. Which is also a story for another time.” He sighed. “We have so much yet to learn from each other. Are you sure you won’t -”
“No!” I yelped.
“She has endured all she can of the Void,” Rowan put in. “I do not recommend discussing it further."
“We’ve only just found her, I can’t help but feel like we’re losing her all over again.”
“I promised her we would not press the issue.”
“But her harmony! It might still be pure.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yes, but she is in a delicate state -”
“I am not!”
“- and to stress her further might destroy it completely.”
“We know where she is, we’ll mark her location on the charts,” Farrell chimed in. “And someday someone can come back and follow up. You all have the time, at least.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I suppose I must trust your word on this, Alpinia. You at least know what an interrupted Torpor can do. Are there history books on the shuttle? Give her one of the books. Are there any others you wish to inquire about, Aggi?”
“I - I can’t think any more.”
“Know the Tanrys Court will receive news of your survival with great joy. You may add ‘Survivor of the Destruction’ to your name, and, oh, you will certainly need a title to honor what you have endured. I have authorization to give them out. How shall we word your experience?”
Oh, yes, the titles. Some people’s names read like a resume, with little tidbits like ‘One Eyed’ or ‘Lion Wrestler’ if you did anything unusual. I suppose I’d definitely earned that, without even trying.
“Would she count as an Explorer of the Void?” Rowan asked. “Or is that reserved for the crew of The Voice?”
“I didn’t really explore it. I was more floating space junk, and there’s really no flattering way to say that.”
“Void Drifter?”
“Perhaps. Or Lyran Consul to . . . what is the name of this place?”
“Linden, I believe.”
“I’m not rated for offworld representation!”
“You appear to be thriving here. You have transcended such tests.”
“‘Transcended’ is more apt than you realize,” Rowan commented. “You think Elorhyn broke free? He may have to run to keep up with her.”
“Elo, truly? Then we shall make it so. Auglathla, daughter of Tamsin Wilrhyn and Cardis Ellisei, Ranger of the Forest Patrol, Crew of The Forthright Swan, Survivor of the Destruction, Transcended, Lyran Portmaster of Linden,” he improvised.
I was blushing heavily at all the compliments. I’d always thought of the incident as a mistake I’d somehow made, an embarrassment, not a great battle I had fought and won. “Oh, wait, I have a different name here. Aggi WyCliffe. Shouldn’t that be included, too?”
“You did? Why would you do that? How could you reject your heritage in such a manner?”
“No, nothing like that! I had to choose from a list when I registered here. It was the closest one to Wilrhyn.”
“Then - ‘Survivor of the Destruction, Transcended, known in Linden as Aggi Wycliffe, Lyran Portmaster.’ It will be recorded and sent home in the next transmission.”
“I think I found something, but this was too fascinating to interrupt,” Wahlford said. “Am I hearing you all correctly? Is this a Naming ceremony? I thought it would be a formal affair, with music and sacramental wine or -”
Milo grunted in disgust. “Only for the first naming. Will you stop making us a topic of study?”
“Oh, is he human?” I asked.
“There are twenty humans and five elves aboard, although no one’s sure about Dislani,” Farrell said.
“Is there anything I can get for those twenty humans and five elves? Earplugs, perhaps? Soap?”
“Bread. Is there fresh bread there? Baguettes? Rolls? Flatbread?” Wahlford sighed. “I’ll take anything.”
“We have got everything you can think of.”
“Fresh fruit and vegetables,” Milo said. “Salt and pepper.”
“Liquor,” Farrell put in. “Whatever, so long as it’s plentiful.”
I laughed. “All right, I’ll bring a care package by.”
“Aggi, blossom, it was good to hear your voice, and I hope we may speak again someday. Know we love you still.”
“Do you have email? Or is there some way we can keep in contact?”
We were starting to wear Farrell down, as he sighed and said, “I think this location qualifies as a port of call, once we solve the technical issues. Alpinia, give her one of the spare communicators.”
Something began beeping loudly over the speaker, and a distant voice shouted “Debris, 20 kilometers!”
“And now I must insist this conversation ends. Ma’am - I look forward to that care package. Alpinia, stand by. All hands to your stations!”
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