Dremiks by Cassandra Davis Page A

differentiation between granular rock deposits like those the doctor was examining and loamy clumps of rich soil. It didn’t seem to matter what language the humans spoke, there were always several words to describe the same concept. It made for difficult communications and left what humans euphemistically termed “room for interpretation”. That potential chasm of differences lent itself to deception.
    “I know you’ve seen such samples before, this being from your own home-world. You’ll note that the grains are roughly formed and irregular—indicating an uneven wearing and shaping over time.” While the scientist was speaking, the bits of sand jumped and slithered across the screen. Fortunas sighed. “The electronic charge of your soil doesn’t seem to agree with the current charge of this room.” The lights flickered again; this time the doctor did notice. “I wish he’d hurry up with these infernal tests.”
    Dwax, happy to have something else to discuss, clicked his tongue. “The captain assures me the tests are necessary to fix any problems before we jump.”
    “Yes, strange how our honored flagship, a testament to the engineering partnership of two great species, can’t keep the lights on.”
    Dwax tried to think of a witty response but failed. He clicked his tongue in meaningless syllables and changed the subject. “Your plants are doing well, yes? I am liking these that you call elephant ears. I think they will look very nice in my mother’s garden.”
    The scientist turned back to examining the sand. He waved his hand in the air over his head. “They’re a hearty bunch. I will, of course, provide samples for your dear mother. I think she will enjoy the spider plants as well. That is, as long as she doesn’t try to cross them with your gun-cho vines. That could have disastrous consequences.”
    Definitely on firmer ground, Dwax encouraged Fortunas to elaborate. He spent the rest of the hour learning about a curious plant called kudzu.
    ***
    “Good morning, ma’am. Up early today.” Chief Turner fell into step beside the commander. He was sipping from a steaming mug of coffee
    O’Connell laughed. “Up late, actually. I had the night watch, remember?”
    The chief shook his head ruefully. “My apologies, ma’am, I’d forgotten that you changed the roster due to these electrical tests. I’m headed to the bridge myself.”
    “And I’m off for breakfast and a run before bed. I’ll check in with you this evening.” She nodded in parting and slipped into the tube leading to the lower decks. The chief continued toward the bridge.
    He found the captain, Lieutenant Price, and Ensign Robertson, there. Robertson was bent over his navigational gear and barely spared a glance for the chief. Price was in the co-pilot’s seat looking distinctly bored. He nodded to the chief in greeting without speaking. Captain Hill had been reading something when Turner entered. He looked up.
    “Good morning, Chief. How’s the coffee today?”
    “I made it, sir. I trust that speaks for itself.”
    The captain chuckled. “If you made it, Chief, then the coffee, in the finest tradition of the naval services, probably speaks and walks for itself.”
    “As the captain pleases. Shall I fetch a cup for you, sir?”
    Hill shook his head in the negative. “I think I’ll stretch my legs. I’ll take your status report when I return.” He raised his voice slightly to announce “Lieutenant, you have the bridge,” before departing.
    The running lights along the baseboards flickered while the captain was walking to the officer’s mess. He frowned and stopped to check the chronometer on his wrist. Guttmann had another twelve hours to finish his tests before the deadline. Just as he stepped through the door to the officers’ mess, the lights went out completely.
    “Well, shit,” a feminine voice said from the far corner of the room.
    “I concur, Commander.”
    O’Connell laughed, a hearty sound in the blackness