Moss sounded introspective. “If the purpose of Starship Day is to remember our meeting… I would not mind celebrating. But that presumes you will not abandon me likehedid.”
Torian stilled, feeling suddenly sad for Moss. “I’m not leaving,” she promised. “This is my home too.”
Maybe it was her imagination, but the lights on the starship seemed to warm in color. “I accept this,” Moss said.
“Good,” Torian replied. Inside the food crate, she’d received everything she’d ordered. Several essentials—protein packets, fiber cookies, multivitamins—were crammed underneath a plethora ofnonessentials: vacuum-sealed bread, containers of her favorite teas and coffee, chips, cereal, preserved milk.
No one said she couldn’tenjoyher trip through space, after all.
(And Celise wasn’t here to bitch about her poor food choices, so… win-win.)
Torian loaded up her arms with as much food as she could carry and brought it back to the kitchenette. There was something pleasing about moving into this starship properly, and she proudly shoved her food in front of the ancient alien cans and bottles for easy access. Then, she chose a very nutritious dinner of pancakes.
She mixed the batter, then fumbled for a pan to place over the small heating element. While it heated, she changed topics: “This might sound weird, but how did he, ah…makeyou?”
“He did not make me. I grew myself, as all moss does.”
As an afterthought, Torian ducked back to her duffel bag to retrieve the chocolate Bartlet had given her. She’d only had pancakeswith chipped chocolate once before, but it wasn’t something she’d ever forget.
A perfect meal for the first night on her very own starship.
As she grabbed a knife to cut the chocolate pieces into smaller chunks, she said, “He must have modified you somehow. Moss doesn’t just…becomeintelligent.”
Moss’s voice was stiff. “Moss is very intelligent. Humans just don’t listen. My moss colony originated on the nylarian homeworld of Verdaan. My spores took root on this ship whenhelanded there, because I wanted to go somewhere new.”
“You wanted to explore?” Torian repeated, just to ensure she heard it right. Did other plants want to explore? Was the calathea in Celise’s clinic desperate to see the galaxy?
The thought was almost laughable.
Almost.
“Well, explore, but also, there is competition on Verdaan. Lots of types of moss. They’re very judgmental. A part of me is still on that planet, but that colony isn’t connected to my central system now.”
Torian poured the batter onto the pan, checking the temperature to ensure it wouldn’t burn. But the nylarian heating element—which was sleek and black, and only seemed to convey heat to the pan, not anywhere else—was working beautifully. She tossed the chips of chocolate in, grinning as they sank into the batter and began to melt.
“Did you like being on this ship? With him?” She wanted to ask his name, but also didn’t want to upset Moss.
He was clearly a touchy subject.
True to form, Moss took a long time to respond. The pancake batter was beginning to firm at the edges before it said: “Yes.Hewas my first non-flora friend. He developed sensors using organic materials, which connected to my new moss colony. Over time, I was able to replicate those sensors in every new gametophyte. Then he created my central system, which allowed me to verbalize this new data.”
A living computer—a true masterpiece.
Torian loaded the pancakes onto a plate, then slid into the seat at the small dining table. She poured some artificial syrup over it—apparently Rhymarra hadrealsyrup, but that was a distant dream on the colonies.
She took a contemplative bite, savoring the rich taste of chocolate. Her words were muffled by the food. “Do you miss him?”
“No.”
The response came fast, with almost too much force.
A living computer withabandonmentissues. She felt bad for Moss, forced to stay here alone, wondering where its only friend went. Torian was already starting to dislike the alien who’d owned theDestitute.
“Do you miss Celise?” Moss asked.
Torian swallowed too fast and nearly choked on her pancake. She coughed, chugged some water, and rasped, “Well, no? It’s only been a few hours.” Then she hesitated, parsing for a better answer. “I… do miss how things used to be. She was sick as a kid, but it was never this bad. We used to spend a lot of time together. Now, she has her clinic, and I was working on Amelia’s ship, and we’ve grown apart.”
She lowered her fork, staring absently at the pancakes. Celise loved pancakes, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
