Fur Feathers Scales and Stars - 3.4

“I’m not a child, Treego.” Chip’s jaw was clenched as tight as Treego had ever seen it. He struggled to meet Chip’s eyes but forced himself to. He set his own jaw in reply.

They were in a small windowless room with cream walls and a simple lamp hanging down from the ceiling. Treego was fairly sure these rooms were habitually used for storing random piles of equipment that nobody really needed, wanted or understood. As a result that meant nobody ever went there so at least, Treego figured, public humiliation wasn’t what Chip had in mind. Or maybe, he just didn’t want his crew to hear what Treego had to say.

“I understand that, Chip, but –”

“Clearly you don’t Treego.” Chip snarled.

“Then explain it to me, Chip.” Snarling wasn’t really an option for a frog so Treego settled for darting his tongue out and in. “Explain to me how almost ordering an entire dukedom’s defence fleet on a pointless search for an enemy you had no proof was nearby is not the action of a child.”

“I accept that I’ve made mistakes.” Chip breathed slowly. “And that is rarely the action of a child.”

“Louis is a child,” said Treego, “Or near enough. And he misses his mother, your own sister, but he feels that he can’t talk to you because he’s worried about you. Louis might not have any major mistakes to admit but it is abundantly clear that he is not the child in this situation.”

Chip snarled again and folded his arms across his chest. Front legs? It was hard to tell. Chip was upright so much these days it was hard to know whether his upper limbs counted as legs anymore.

“What do you want from me, Treego?” Chip exclaimed, spreading his arms wide. “Do you want me to assemble everyone to inform them of my mental stability? Have I not been proving myself since we got back from Aeralis?”

Treego shrugged. “You’ve not spoken a word about what happened, or about Lezeki at all. You’ve been so nice to Kernik that it basically looks like you’re trying to make up for his brother. And Margo Whipple’s been handling all the disciplinary action because she doesn’t want the various minor breaches to upset you.”

Chip was silent for a few moments then leaned back against a table. “Well, Officer Dart, I never asked her to do that, so maybe I’ll send her a message. I, your Captain, hereby administer you with disciplinary measure one-oh-four. Private comms privileges suspended for one week. Why don’t you open up a public comms channel with Dr. Whipple and inform her of your situation?”

Treego gulped, which produced that stupid cartoon ‘ribbit’ sound. “Chip, I …”

“Actually –” Chip waved a paw – “Wait a few moments. It wouldn’t send the best message to my parents for their first impression of a Jungle Corps Space Team ship to be the Chief of Conditions Management explaining how he went behind their son’s back.”

Treego’s eyes bulged and he nearly choked. “Wait, what?”

“It is … very … obvious that you care about my family. We’ve known each other a long time, on various levels of awareness. I am going to call my parents, or at least call this number and see what happens. You should be on this call, Treego. It wouldn’t have happened without you.” Chip almost didn’t smile, but his glaring eyes stopped staring at Treego and wandered around the room for a bit. Treego gulped again.

“Thank you, Chip – er, Captain. I appreciate it … I really do.” Treego tried to smile but shuddered to think what sort of mangled grimace he was presenting to Chip. Chip had always been merciful, it was true. If he was trying to show he was back to his old self, Treego guessed that made sense.

Chip nodded. “I understand, Treego. Come on, Louis is waiting for us in my private comms booth.”

***

Chip’s private comms booth was far less clinical than Treego had been expecting. The walls were painted a deep, dark green that reminded him of the shadowy spaces in close clusters of jungle leaves. There were a few maps of Earth, one of which had little blue pins dotted all over it. Chip explained that each of these pins represented the home of a different crew member, although several crew members actually shared pins. There was a big blue cluster marking the patch of rainforest that Chip, Treego and Louis had all come from. Treego smiled. Chip may undoubtedly have arms, but he clearly remembered his home.

One wall of the room was almost entirely taken up with a screen the width of a strip of film. Its display showed only a long black rectangle that stretched out horizontally like a letterbox. At its left extremity a white carat blinked patiently while Chip explained the map to Treego and Louis. But then he was done, and it was time to start typing. There was a keyboard mounted on the wall, just below the box, which Chip used to enter in his parents’ phone number.

“They might know about Martha, Louis. Are you ready?” Chip stared straight at his nephew, who nodded and stared right past him at the screen. Chip turned to Treego. “How about you?”

“I don’t think I’ll be saying much, Chip,” Treego said, “But I’m here if you need me.”

“Thank you.” Chip nodded and turned back to the screen, then clicked the call button.

There were about five or six rings, during which Treego could feel his heartbeat synchronising with the hurried beep-beep-beep of the dial tone. He didn’t even want to imagine what the other two had to be feeling.

Then there they were. Mr and Mrs Puccoon. There were some species that Treego struggled to tell the difference between members of, but the abundance of primates on board the ship had given him an eye for the differences over the past couple of years. Nonetheless, the resemblance between the four spider monkeys in front of him gave Treego the momentary impression that he was looking into a mirror … or maybe a mirror that aged those in front of it by a generation or so.

Chip let out a shriek of joy and his mouth opened wide. He grabbed Louis around the waist and hugged him tight.

“It’s them!” he shouted, “I can practically smell them!”

Louis grinned. “Hello Grandma, Grandpa. Your son is very happy to see you. He is also suffocating me. Chip, please let me go.”

Chip chuckled and ruffled the tuft of fur that always stood up on Louis’ head.

“Mum, Dad,” he said, taking a deep breath, “It is so very very wonderful to see you.”

The monkey on the screen’s left – Treego had no idea which was which – was grinning with their eyes screwed up tight, as if they were trying to force tears back. “Hello, Chip, my son! I never thought I’d say that again … although I’m not sure I ever have … Oh, you know what I mean. And hi, Louis, too! And er, who’s the frog?”

“Oh!” Chip whirled round to his left to face Treego. “This is Officer Treego Dart, our Chief of Conditions Management. Treego, this is my mum, Wyeri, and my dad, Niter.”

Chip gestured at one then the other. The one who had spoken was his father.

“Nice to meet you, Officer Dart,” Wyeri said. Then she reached out to the screen as if to stroke Louis. “You were so small the last time we saw you, Louis!”

Louis sprang forward as if to meet her hand and reached his own up to the screen. As his hand made contact with the smooth glass his shoulders sagged and he leaned forward, resting his head against it.

“I love you, Grandma,” he murmured.

“We love you too, Louis,” Wyeri said, then clamped her hand over her wobbling mouth.

Niter took a few shaky breaths then said, “Chip, I just … I don’t understand … Why haven’t you contacted us before?”

Wyeri wiped her eyes and added. “We’d always assumed you were forbidden to contact us – or you didn’t have our number or something.”

Chip’s entire body was trembling but he managed to reply, “Until recently, it was the latter. Then your number became known to us. We – well, Louis and Treego – managed to hack into some sort of account of Martha’s, and it had you two listed as a contact detail.”

Niter hiccupped. “That … that’s right. The JCST contacted us on that number last year to inform us … to let us know that Martha had died.”

His resolve cracked and he burrowed his head into Wyeri’s shoulder. Treego’s eyes widened and he glanced first at Chip then at Louis. How much of what they’d found had Louis told Chip? He looked back at Louis, but there were so many emotions plastered across his face that it was impossible to tell which one meant what.

“What? What is it?” Wyeri’s eyes narrowed and Niter drew himself up from leaning on her.

“What is what, honey?” he asked.

“The frog – Treego. Look at him.” Wyeri pointed at the screen and Treego felt as if her outstretched finger was stabbing right into his gut. What the hell did he tell them? He had to tell them something, right? Neither of his companions were crying, muttering to themselves, or even really doing anything other than staring at the ground with their eyes wide.

“Tell them, Treego,” Louis eventually whispered, “At the very least it’s good news.”

Treego nodded and looked straight into Wyeri’s eyes. “When we were in your daughter’s account, we found something detailing recent activity. Where isn’t important right now. But the when – that was two weeks ago. I have no idea where she is right now, but two weeks ago Martha was alive.”