{"id":2563,"date":"2023-10-28T14:09:21","date_gmt":"2023-10-28T21:09:21","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2563"},"modified":"2023-10-28T14:09:21","modified_gmt":"2023-10-28T21:09:21","slug":"learning-to-breathe","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2023\/10\/28\/learning-to-breathe\/","title":{"rendered":"Learning to Breathe"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Write a story about a character who finds guidance in an unlikely place.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Garal had often felt there were not enough hours in a day, regardless of the planet. She\u2019d felt like the days had been close to long enough on Haror IV, where the days were close to twice the length of those on her home world. Still, it had only been close to<\/em> long enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now, though, she had no one but herself to blame. As the owner-operator of her own long-range freighter, she decided what a day was in transit. She stopped what she was working on to soak her aching tentacles. Her gripping surfaces were drying out and raw, and she still had so much work to do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She soaked for hours, until her ship dropped from c-space into normal space. Garal was surprised to see that she\u2019d already reached her destination.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Letting herself drip on the floor, she crawled out of the creamy liquid in her soak tank and headed for the bridge. On the way she grabbed a wrap with a much-relieved tentacle. Settling into the captain\u2019s chair, she called the station ahead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStation GaiaNova-17 Dock Control, this is merchant vessel Shallow Pools, ident XM3279.43R, Captain Garal Eighth of Seventeenth, requesting clearance for docking, over.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShallow Pools, GN-17 DC. I have your planet of registry as Kura II, your transit plan from Haror IV station, but no cargo manifest, over.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDC, Shallow Pools, all correct. My hold is empty, except for scrap fixtures and cleaning and repair supplies. I was remodeling, over.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShallow Pools, DC; you are clear to dock in ring four, slip eighteen. Set nav to accept docking control GN-17-4, over.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDC, Shallow Pools. I copy ring four, slip eighteen, nav accept GN-17-4, over.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShallow Pools, DC; good copy. The dock master will check your supplies for any hazardous materials and can direct you to the recycling center for the scrap. Welcome to human space. GN-17 Dock Control out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After the dock master confirmed that none of her cleaning supplies were hazardous, he took the time to get a freight pusher for her that she could load all the old fixtures on and haul to the recycling center, on ring five. She had loaded the pusher before she realized how quiet the dock was. She\u2019d expected a lot more in the way of freight moving through the station.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The recycling center was busier than the freight docks on ring four. She thought that was odd, but she was<\/em> in human space at an aging station. She guided the pusher to the next available slot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAh, you must be from the Shallow Pools.\u201d The human woman wearing a name tag that said \u201cLina\u201d began to scan the cart with a hand-held device. \u201cSome of these fixtures still look newish. Are you sure you don\u2019t want to hold on to \u2019em and sell \u2019em yourself?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure.\u201d Garal wrapped her tentacles around themselves. \u201cSo, how much to take all this off my back?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHuh? Well, we\u2019ll probably salvage the light fixtures, and the\u2026is that an anurian soak tank?\u201d She tapped on the display of her hand-held device.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah. It\u2019s like a human bath<\/em> \u2014 I think that\u2019s the word \u2014 except it filters and recirculates the dermis rejuvenation liquid.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, I kind of thought that\u2019s what it was. I soaked in one of those, once. Never again. All my hair fell out, including my eyebrows and eyelashes, and all my nails got so soft I almost lost them as well. Except for that, it was great. My skin never looked better.\u201d She laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Garal continued soothing herself by wrapping and unwrapping her tentacles. \u201cSo\u2026how much?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBest I can do is 150 credits. You could probably do better selling the soak tank in anurian space.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2014I didn\u2019t expect it to cost so much. I can take it back and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo! No, that\u2019s not cost, that\u2019s how much I can pay you for it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Garal\u2019s four eyestalks shot up in surprise. \u201cYou\u2019re\u2026paying me<\/em> for this?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, yeah. You bring scrap or items to be recycled, we pay you for the value\u2026minus a little for overhead, of course.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh! That\u2019s fantastic, then! Sold.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Garal returned to her ship with a new swish in her slither. She\u2019d already set aside enough for refueling, and had enough food to last a while, but had been worried that without a good-paying run out of GN-17 she\u2019d be hard-pressed to continue on. While not a lot, a 150-credit buffer did<\/em> feel good.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the ship, she paid for refueling, and got directions to the outbound freight board. She waited until she was certain they were fueling the Pools correctly, then made her way to ring two.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Part of ring two was dedicated to passenger slips and transport to ring one, and the other was offices. She followed the signs in twelve languages to the Outbound Transport Office and let herself in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was activity at many of the offices she\u2019d passed, but this one was quiet. She knew from past experience to press the button on the device beside the door to get a queue number and had a tentacle about to do so when someone said, \u201cDon\u2019t bother. You\u2019re next.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She turned to the counter where a bored looking human \u2014 she couldn\u2019t determine whether they were male or female \u2014 motioned her up. \u201cHi,\u201d she said as she approached. \u201cI need an outbound cargo\u2026to anywhere within a hundred parsecs\u2026oh! And it has to fit in the Shallow Pools, and I can land at up to 2.6 standard gravities with 4.87 tonnes of cargo. \u2026 Can only take off from that empty, though.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The bored human nodded, typed something into their console, and handed Garal a small, printed chip. \u201cTake this to ring one. Information desk can point you in the right direction.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWh\u2014what? What\u2019s the cargo? There\u2019s only one?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s the only thing outbound that\u2019ll fit in your ship. Going 40.237 parsecs to a 0.8 standard gravity moon. Cargo weight, less than 0.3 tonnes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Garal burbled, the anurian equivalent of a heavy sigh. Such a small load was hardly going to pay well, but at least she wouldn\u2019t be using much in the way of fuel. \u201cThank you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Where ring four had been too silent, ring one was a cacophony of noise and color. Sapients from all over mixed and mingled in the shops and eateries. She made her way to the nearest information kiosk and showed the chip, where she was told to wait in the small dining establishment beside the kiosk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She figured she might as well get a fresh meal, as it would likely be the last one for a while. Her ship had plenty of food stored up, but not the sort one would get at home\u2026or in an eatery.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No sooner had Garal received her steaming bowl of ramen than she was joined by an elderly human male pulling a travel case, on top of which rode a large carrier containing some sort of Earth animal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou must be Garal, of the Shallow Pond?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShallow Pools,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRight, right. Sorry. I\u2019m Frank. I\u2019ll let you finish your meal, then I\u2019m ready whenever you are.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re the one with the cargo? Is it anything dangerous?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He laughed. \u201cDo I look<\/em> dangerous?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re\u2026not cargo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTechnically, I am,\u201d he said. \u201cWhether I\u2019m boarded as a passenger on a liner or as \u2018cargo\u2019 on a freighter. I\u2019m just weight you\u2019re moving around.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two of Garal\u2019s tentacles wrapped around themselves while she continued to eat and tried to look unconcerned. \u201cWhere are you headed?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGoing home to my moon, Spera,\u201d he said. \u201cIt\u2019s around Alnus \u2014 Silva VI.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour moon? You mean, the moon you came from?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, I mean the moon I bought.\u201d He laughed. \u201cI\u2019m kidding. I\u2019m settling into a retirement community there and didn\u2019t want to travel with all the noisy people, so I figured I\u2019d wait here on the station until a small freighter came available.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow long have you been waiting?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSeventy-nine standard days\u2026about two months Earth \u2014 Sol III \u2014 time.\u201d He seemed lost in thought for a moment. \u201cThat would be eighty-five or eighty-six days on Eklara.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Garal’s eyestalks perked up. \u201cYou know the name of my planet, beyond just Kura II.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course,\u201d he said, \u201cI remember my stellagraphy classes. It was my favorite subject. Got a degree in Stellapolitics.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She looked at him, then at the animal carrier. \u201cThat\u2019s not venomous or anything, is it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo. That\u2019s a tortoise. Her name\u2019s Celia.\u201d Frank started. \u201cOh! Almost forgot. Payment up front.\u201d He pushed a stack of credits across the table to her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She kept eating while counting the credits with two other tentacles. Six thousand. \u201cYou could just rent a private transport for that. You\u2019d be there in less than a standard day. The Pools isn\u2019t slow, but it\u2019ll take nine standard days to get there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Frank smiled. \u201cThat\u2019s why I\u2019m paying you the big bucks. I like to take my time. Besides, it\u2019s a nuisance rate. There\u2019s not likely any outgoing freight from Spera, so you\u2019ll end up flying empty to the station at Quercus \u2014 Silva II.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Garal left NG-17 with 6,141 credits in her satchel, a trunk of everything Frank owned in the hold, Frank, and his \u2018pet.\u2019 Once she entered c-space, she had time to go back to finishing up the remodel. The only thing left was wiring in the new lights in the galley.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She walked in to find Frank wiring up the last of them. The rest had been connected, sealed and seated, and were working.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2014uh, thank you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI see you\u2019ve done a lot of work on the Pools, just thought you could use a break.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She didn\u2019t know how to answer, instead wrapping her tentacles around themselves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He sealed and seated the light, which came on as it clicked into place. \u201cLook, I can tell you\u2019re the sort to work your fingers to the bone\u2014er\u2026work your tentacles to the nub? Anyway, you\u2019re not one to slow down \u2014 ever \u2014 are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou are more correct than not,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe have time,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m going to teach you what I\u2019ve learned from Celia.\u201d He pointed to the far side of the galley where he\u2019d converted the carrier to a fence that hemmed her in. Small piles of fresh greens and fruit were placed in various spots within the fence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Garal watched, mesmerized, as Celia moved with slow, deliberate steps to the next pile of food. Once there, she eyed it with a tilted head, then took a slow bite.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI used to run at everything like I was tilting at windmills,\u201d Frank said, \u201cuntil I got Celia. That was forty years ago \u2014 roughly twenty-eight or so stellar revolutions for Eklara.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd she changed you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Frank smiled. \u201cNot right away, of course. No. I used to get frustrated that she took so long to do anything<\/em>. I\u2019d want her to hurry up and eat so I could be sure she was properly fed before I left to work. Getting her to come out of her enclosure for cleaning was even worse.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat changed?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI did\u2026eventually. I figured out that just because she was slow, it didn\u2019t mean she wouldn\u2019t get a thing done. Then I got the bright idea, that maybe I could slow down once in a while.\u201d He walked over and scratched Celia\u2019s shell. \u201cShe can feel that you know. She likes it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo, why did you finish up my task?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBecause, young miss, you are going to spend the next nine days learning how to relax, and Celia and I will be your teachers.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut there\u2019s still so much to\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNonsense. The ship is spotless, except for a few drops of dermis rejuvenation liquid in the hall that I already cleaned up so Celia wouldn\u2019t get into it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut there\u2019s\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo buts. Is there anything on the ship likely to fail any time soon?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre there any pressure leaks, fuel leaks, or shorts?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe air handlers seem to be working fine. Are the scrubbers and filters in need of immediate replacement?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, they\u2019re all new.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSee. Nothing to do but relax.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her tentacles tightened around themselves. Frank just gave a kind smile, as if waiting for her to come around. She felt something inside let go. Everything that could be done by busy, was done. Her tentacles relaxed. \u201cMaybe you\u2019re right.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course I\u2019m right,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She spent the next hours watching Celia eat her spread out meal, sometimes stopping to nap in between. Frank surprised her with a hot bowl of ramen, before she even realized she was hungry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She made a point of taking her time with it, as Frank did. They shared idle conversation about his past teaching Galactic Politics, her past as a mechanic until she saved up enough to buy the Pools and get it space worthy, and\u2026in the best moments\u2026nothing at all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Without needing to rush from one task to another, the nine days in transit seemed at once never-ending and over too soon. The long meals, easy conversation, watching and stroking Celia as she maintained her own pace\u2026then, back to regular space and time to land.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The landing pad on Spera was below ground, with a cover that sealed over once they settled. All the habitations were in domes, as the atmosphere was too thin and lacking in oxygen. Bioengineered plants covered the moon, though, making it look like a lush paradise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Garal rolled Frank\u2019s travel case down the cargo ramp and gave Celia a farewell rub on her shell. She walked with Frank through the airlock into the tunnels that connected the domes. Signs in Galactic Common and several human languages pointed the ways to the various domes. \u201cWhich dome did you say?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t. But it looks like it\u2019s just a ten-minute walk from here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCan I help you with your case?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf you want to. If not, I\u2019m sure I can manage, and you can go find real cargo at Quercus.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Garal stretched her tentacles. \u201cI\u2019m in no hurry.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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