Conics Unfortunately: 45

Hipster land yielded no results, even though Ellipse checked all the bathrooms twice, and Focci engaged in very indiscreet conversation with every other siren he saw. At least none of the nearby specifus could hear what he was asking, and sirens on the whole ran anti-Spec Corp.

As Focci finished up conversing with a tiny, green-blue siren, Ellipse took a moment to glance around, eyes peeled for any flashing lights that might indicate a specifus translating the conversation. The only lights she could see, however, were the dim lamps hanging from the ceiling and the screens notifying passengers of boarding times and destinations.

She looked over at Tejal, who fidgeted in his chair, a tight frown on his face.

“Something wrong?”

Tejal shook his head, face still stuck in a frown. “Not really. It’s just weird that you didn’t waltz in with a plan this time.”

“I planned out our route,” Ellipse pointed out.

“This station is a big circle. There’s really only two ways we could go.”

Touché.

“Okay but of all three of the Impending survivors,” Ellipse whispered, “we know the least about this one’s whereabouts. We just know Nestor or somewhere in Triune, and we have not run into Captain Maj’s friends to pry hints out of their leaves.”

“If you ask me, I’d rather we didn’t run into them.”

Ellipse squinted at him, vexed.

“I know they’re after Ami and the others, but you—sorry, Elliott—Elliott’s probably worth a lot more, at least in terms of money.”

“Specifus are very bad at recognizing earthlings,” Ellipse replied. She looked back to Focci, who was bidding the smaller siren goodbye and wagging his tail like a happy dog, and then shrugged. “But thanks for the concern, I guess.”

“No problem.” Then, still frowning, Tejal reached into the back pocket of his chair and pulled out the tablet. “Did you learn anything Focci?”

Ellipse probably should have seen it coming, based on the tail-wagging, but she still felt her heart jump in shock when Focci puddled on the floor and sighed, his snout twitching and his gills fluttering like butterfly wings.

“I learned nothing,” he sang, voice as airy as a flute, “except the name of a very cute siren.”

“Did the cute siren spot any specifus with wide kelp leaves for a head?” Ellipse asked, feeling her brow scrunch.

Moments later, Tejal’s cheeks went green, and his frown turned into a mortified grimace. “What exactly constitutes as a cute siren?”

“He said he saw a team of specifus bounty hunters, but that was it.” Focci flopped onto his side and brought up his hands to squish his own cheeks. “But ugh. His tailfin was so pretty! I wish I had a fin like that.”

In the corner of her vision, Ellipse noticed Tejal giving her a panicked look.

She shrugged. “I did not know he did this either.”

“Yeah, there’s this. This is weird,” Tejal hissed, gesturing at Focci. “But did you not just hear Focci mention bounty hunters? If they’re here, then we need to get a move on so we can find Ami first and get out.”

Focci sang a series of arpeggiated notes and rolled onto his back. “Even his name is pretty!”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Ellipse let out a long sigh. Might as well open the can of worms. Maybe once Focci got his infatuation into words, he would calm down, and they could keep searching. “What is his name?”

Focci sang the arpeggio again, and though Ellipse could not recall an exact definition, she did know that the phrase ‘fish scale’ sounded remarkably similar, just with one less note on the end. Personally, she would not name a child ‘fish scale,’ but to each their own, she supposed. At least the name was melodic.

“And did Fish-scale tell you where he saw these bounty hunters?” Ellipse asked.

At the mention of bounty hunters, Focci stiffened a little. His gills stopped fluttering quite as fast as they had been, and he rolled onto his stomach. “Yeah. They were in the docking area for small private vessels.”

“Oh. We should probably stop asking around,” Ellipse said. She raised an eyebrow at Tejal and shoved her hands in her pockets. “The private docking area is the next section of the station, right?”

Tejal nodded.

“Okay then!” she declared, pointing forwards and marching. “Let us continue!”

The transition into the private docking section was abrupt. The mood lighting and soft, wooden interiors ended with a giant wall made of violet-stained timber and tinted, reflective glass, and suddenly the trio found themselves once again surrounded by concrete and steel on all sides. White fluorescents shone from the ceiling, casting hard shadows when the light hit the copious metal perches stretching overhead. Ellipse spotted a sign for the bathrooms about a hundred meters away, giggling at how the hieroglyphic for ‘bathroom’ in one of the major avian languages just looked like the cartoon poo symbol.

She held up a hand to motion for everyone to stop, and then pointed at the sign. “So before I go check that bathroom,” she sang, “I have a question for you, Focci.”

He hummed a short, curious note.

“We have spent months working on the same ship, and you always seem like the calm, mature one out of us three, so what exactly was with that weird, head-in-an-algal-bloom act back there?”

Focci shrugged and continued moving, as if he had not just adopted a lovesick second personality. “I told you. Pretty siren.”

“Have we not run into any other pretty sirens?”

In the back of her mind, Ellipse registered a change in Tejal’s expression. His brow knit just a small bit, and his breath hitched, but she ignored it. He was probably just having his usual delayed reaction to the arguments.

“Of course I have seen other pretty sirens,” Focci said, his tone still even, “but I have not talked to one since before you came on board.”

That seemed unlikely. Sure they spent most of their time on the Conics, but sirens were not a habitually reclusive species like the tyran, or newcomers to space travel like the saur. Focci should have had several opportunities to at least ogle some other sirens. Ellipse had certainly admired other earthlings here and there.

“Hey guys?” Tejal asked.

“Besides,” Focci continued, “most spacefarers are not an appropriate age for me to look at. As far as crews go, we are all pretty young.”

Okay true. Ellipse probably would not swoon over a thirty-something, regardless of objective attractiveness.

“Guys.”

Ellipse frowned and scratched her head. “You have a point Focci. But that whole thing back there was still weird.”

“Earth to Focci and Ellipse?”

“Onto the bathroom?” Ellipse suggested, gesturing again at the sign with the poo symbol.

“Sure,” Focci agreed, “though first I think Tejal is trying to tell us something.”

So Ellipse had not been wrong when she noticed him frowning. She swivelled her head around to face Tejal as she started forward. “What is up, Tejal?”

“Oh my god.” He slapped his face, rested an elbow on one armrest, and gestured to the grand expanse of space before them, where a small group of specifus wandered towards the Conics crew in a clearly prearranged formation. “Captain Maj’s friends are here.”