Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine by Jeanne G'Fellers (the rosie project .txt) 📕

know she wouldn’t have to find her way through the honeycomb of walkways and landing platforms alone. She took the extra bag and followed. Keeping up with the old woman proved a challenge as they made their way through the crowds. She wove skillfully in and out of the throngs of populace, despite her obvious infirmity.

By the time they reached the Langus transport, LaRenna was exhausted. The weight of her baggage and cloak had drenched her in perspiration, causing everything she wore to stick to her skin. They stopped by a peddler cart at the edge of a vacant platform. “I’m parched!” declared the Autlach, fanning herself. The cooling halted when she noticed LaRenna. “Gracious me, child, but you’re half-drowned! Why don’t we get a drink?”

LaRenna nodded her heavy head in agreement.

“I’ll get us something before we board. Goodness knows the transport doesn’t serve enough to keep an insect alive, much less a pretty young woman such as you. Are you hungry?”

“The heat,” LaRenna answered as she shook the hair from her sweating neck. “It’s made me half ill.”

“Understandable. I’ll get us some water and a few bush fruits for later.” She addressed the peddler and purchased the items. Taking back her bag, she handed LaRenna a large cup of water. “I didn’t let him ice it. The cold will cramp you in this heat.” LaRenna looped her bag over her shoulder, drew a folded Autlach bill from her pocket, and gave it to the woman, who took the money and placed it along with two small fruits in LaRenna’s cloak pocket. “No, child, don’t insult me,” she said in a mothering way. “You see, I birthed a Taelach daughter who would be around your age now. I would like to think someone somewhere would show her the same kindness.”

LaRenna squeezed the elder Autlach’s hand. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” beamed the woman. “I could tell it was your first solo outing. Now, let’s board before the last-minute rush.” They found the transport sentry and presented their cards again. He gave them each a cabin number as he handed the cards back. “Fourth berth, blue level,” mumbled the woman. “Where are you at?”

“Twelfth berth, orange level.”

“Well, I guess this is where we part, young Taelach. Thank you for assisting an old lady on her way.”

“I hardly think it was me who gave assistance.” LaRenna smiled.

The woman shook her head, bouncing the neatly looped gray braid on her neck. “Still, I’m in your debt.” Then she paused to ponder their meeting. “We never exchanged names, did we?”

“No, I don’t believe we did.”

“Well, allow me to introduce myself.” She bowed reverently, with a grace the Autlach seldom extended their paler relatives. “I’m Nyla Smalls of the rural Autlach settlements of Saria Three.”

LaRenna returned her courtesy. “And I’m Third Level Kimshee LaRenna Belsas most recently of the Training Grounds here on Saria Four.”

“Belsas?” Nyla’s delicate eyebrows rose in surprise. “As in Belsas Exzal, Taelach of All?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Taelach Belsas, this definitely has been a pleasure. Your guardian raiser is a quality stateswoman. Her posting on the High Council has done much for Autlach-Taelach relations. I hope you do as well as she has.” With that, Nyla Smalls shuffled down the transport corridor and disappeared from sight.

A peculiar sense of emptiness fell over LaRenna when she’d gone. Sighing, she recited her cabin number again and took the level lift to her deck. Berth twelve was a double cabin on the starboard side of the transport. She hung her cloak on one of the pegs above the compartment’s luggage area and stowed her bag. The aft seating offered a better view so she took her cup to one of the reclining chairs facing that direction, sitting just as the cabin door slid open.

An Autlach couple entered. The man was overly slim, possessing a face that seemed incapable of expressing any emotion other than disdain. His wife, some five passes younger than LaRenna, possessed an apple-cheeked face still bright with young eagerness though she was very pregnant. She froze in the doorway when she saw their cabin mate. “Flannery,” she whined in a high nasal wheeze to ruin the pleasantness her eyes still held. “Do we have to share a cabin with her?” Her arms wrapped protectively around her protruding stomach. “Think of the baby.”

“We were lucky to get any cabin on this transport,” he replied as he led her to the seat directly across from LaRenna. “You’ll just have to live with it. This little half-grown snit won’t do you or the baby any harm.” The he turned toward LaRenna, revealing the sneer under his wiry mustache. “Will you, girl?”

“Hardly!” LaRenna growled in her deepest voice. Legs curled underneath her body, she scowled out the window, trying to ignore the occasional glares and underhanded comments of her unwanted traveling companions. If this was the type of treatment she could expect, maybe becoming a Kimshee wasn’t such a good idea after all. She desperately hoped there were more like Nyla out there.

Chapter Eight

Be wary! You never know who your true enemy is.

—Sarian military saying

The Commons were teeming with business when Krell arrived. Hood high against the day, she crept into the dining plaza, taking a quiet corner table. The spindly Autlach waiter spotted his newest customer and disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later carrying a small tray. “It’s been a while, Krell. Where have you been keeping yourself?”

Krell pushed back her hood until it bunched behind her ears then peered up, smiling. “At the base more than is good for my sanity, Russ. What’s for breakfast?”

“Your usual, brown bread and tea.” Russ set a plate on the table then laughed at the crushed expression Krell offered in return. If any one thing gave him pleasure, it was teasing his lankiest customer. “Something wrong?”

“No sweet jams?”

“But of course!” With an exaggerated flourish, he laid a jam pot before her. “I know better than to serve a Taelach bread without sweet jams.” Russ’s eyes