The Starship Mechanic

The Starship Mechanic

By Kay Lake and Ken Scholes

(You can find the full text in The Year’s Best Science Fiction Collection, 2011, edited by Gardner Dozois).

I awoke in a dark place choking for air, my chest weighted with fluid. Penauch’s hand settled upon my shoulder. The heaviness leapt from me.

“Where am I?”.

I heard a sound not unlike something heavy rolling in mud. It was a thick, wet noise and words formed alongside it in my mind. You are in – crackle hiss warble – medical containment pod of the Starship – but the name of the vessel was incomprehensible to me.

Exposure to our malfunctioning – hiss crackle warble – mechanic has infected you with trace elements of – here another word I could not understand – viruses.

“I don’t get it,” I said.

The cat Pusha. A cat ran in front of me, feet scampering over floors that were badly in need of a polish. “Goodbye”, I told it, but didn’t know why (Jay Lake and Ken Scholes). Photo: © Megan Jorgensen (Elena)

Penauch’s voice was low. “You’re not meant to. But once I’ve fixed you, you will be returned to the store”.

I looked at him. “What about you?”

He shook his head, the rigatoni of his face slapping itself gently. “My services are required here. I am now operating within my design parameters”.

I opened my mouth to ask another question but then the light returned and I was falling. Beside me, Penauch fell, too, and he held my hand tightly. “Do not let go,” he said as we impacted.

This time we made no crater as we landed. We stood and I brushed myself off. “I have no idea what any of this means.”

“It won’t matter,” Penauch told me. “But say goodbye to the cats for me”.

“I will,” I promised.

“I liked your planet. Now that the” – again, the incomprehensible ship’s name slid entirely over my brain – “is operational once more,

I suppose we’ll find others.” He sighed. “I hope I malfunction again soon”. He stretched out a hand and fixed me a final time.

I blinked at him and somehow, mid-blink, I stood in the center of Valencia Street.