Haiku can be strange
Five, seven, and five again
Refrigerator -- Anon Guest
There were magnets with words on them. Yet another Human invention that could be used for long-term communication and yet was still used for random art. For instance, the poetic form on the communal chilled food store. A thing that described itself and was still a joke. Typically Human.
Companion Zue considered the words scattered around the magnetic surface, and thought about the message she might leave for the next person to come here and view.
Bugs are nutritious, was the first line. Zue felt accomplished. The hardest part was finding the right words, followed closely by rearranging them without interrupting other messages and art, because Havenworlders had trouble with magnets strong enough to cling to communal metal.
Only for some strange people, aligned under the first line. Considering that this was a new art with words Zue had not been raised with, this was going fairly well.
Finally, the last line. Please leave mine alone. Satisfied, Zue checked the cold interior to discover that, yet again, someone had left her with a half ration of mealworms.
There wasn't a lot left in there that ze could safely digest, either. The box had hir name on it. And a polite, Daily Havenworlder ration, please do not take written on all sides. And yet, every day for the past week, someone had taken about half of hir mealworms.
Zue sat and ate hir half ration, making yet another appointment with the Ships' Medik for a supplement and lodging another complaint with the Captain. Then, since ze was eating slowly, another note to the CRC about the Shipmate Exchange Programme and why it was hir personal hell.
Human Triss entered and snorted at the communal cold storage. "Every now and then, civilisation finds it necessary to re-invent passive-aggressive notes on the office fridge," he said. "You okay, Zue?"
"You could guess it was me."
"One, you're the only insectivorous Havenworlder on board. Two, I'm comms officer and those daily notes of yours have been vetoed by Captain Ego," his nickname for the Deregger who owned this vessel. "Flakk him, I sent them on anyway. Interfering with vital messages and distress calls is a Galactic Crime even when you're rattling around in the Edge. Three... You haven't been looking that hot for more than a few days in a row. Guessing the printed synthbugs still aren't up to snuff."
"Medik Auwh is keeping track of my micronutrient balances while the crisis continues," sighed Zue. "I will survive this and my progeny will be stronger for it."
"Not that much of a silver lining. I set up a hidden cam to catch whoever's been into my stir-fries and Zali's gorp, so let's have a look..." some messing around with his datareader and, in a handful of minutes, his eyes bugged out and his face turned red. "That rat-flakkin'-bastard..."
"What is it?"
Human Triss detached the viewscreen and showed Zue an image of Captain Paris with an armload of foodstuffs. Triss' stir-fry, Zali's gorp, and Zue's mealworms. One hand held a couple of eggs.
"Every Powers-damned day, Captain Ego steals half our food to make himself a 'superior stir-fry' that he wolfs down in private."
"This is clearly mutiny material," said Zue.
"Agreed. Sending the evidence to Medik Auwh, the CRC, and the Alliance Committee." Bip bip deet doot doot blorp. Of such small sounds, monumental change is forged. "And now sharing this with all crewmembers who could care. Automatically leaving the Dereggers out of it because," here, Human Triss adopted a mocking falsetto, "my captain right or wrong." A final bleep on his vambrace. "Flakkers. Meeting's in five down in the cargo bay.
It was, perhaps, one of the fastest mutinies ever recorded, with all the loyal Dereggers locked in one small room and fed half rations until such time as the Profit Motive reached her next port of call.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / Nneirda]
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