jeriendhal | Fic: Arc, Part Five

The supervisor gave them directions to the coupling section. It wasn’t very hard to find, the station being set up in a standard disc configuration, some hundred meters thick at the edge, two hundred at the center, and one kilometer in diameter. The outer ring was devoted to cargo bays and docking locks, the inner core holding the central power unit and command section under the local Wise Master’s direct supervision. Between the two sections were life support, general administration, crew barracks, and maintenance bays. Oh, and a long term social engineering project who’s purpose seemed to be to destroy the social glue that had held the Vulpine together through a thousand years of subjugation.

Lili kept her head down and tried to look like her soul had been sucked out of her. The few other vulpine they passed didn’t take any notice of her, or of each other. They all had a sort of blank eyed look like shell-shocked combat troops, as if their minds had grown numb to the world around them. No one spoke to them, though twice passersby looked in curiosity at Marty, whose face held the same calm smile it always did.

Lili was hard pressed not to give in to a feeling of claustrophobia herself. Since they had come aboard every wall of the station had been painted in the same dull tan, the floor carpeting in sound absorbing rubber that gave nice traction to vulpine claws and foot pads. Unlike many other Varn built stations or ground facilities there was no attempt to soften the environment with artwork on the walls or plants in the rooms or corridor junctions. The closest thing to an attempt to break the monotony was the occasional Department of Social Harmony motivational slogan on a sign that was mounted every thirty meters or so, such as.

Work is the goal, work is the purpose.

or

Focus on your task for the greater good.

And the always popular

The Wise Masters watch over us.

That last one she didn’t doubt at all.

They came to the entrance to the coupling section. It was manned by a bored looking male who look their ident cards, slotted them through the scanner, and handed them back without comment. He went back to staring at the wall opposite his desk as they passed, without a book reader for study or a set of earbuds to provide music. They could replace every vulpine here with robots and efficiency wouldn’t drop a point she thought.

The coupling section was the first hint of anything resembling the comfort she’d yet seen on the station. As the doors closed behind them, she and Marty found themselves in a circular lobby. The lights were softer here, the harsh fiber optic lights that were fed from the collector mounted on the station’s exterior, pumping in light from the local star, was replaced by recessed strip lighting. The walls were a lined with soothing grey stone, like from a cave den from Vulpine’s pre-history. Soft music filtered down from hidden speakers, and at the center of the lobby was a cool fountain, water burbling over a sculpted waterfall. She immediately felt the tension running down her shoulders and back ease in the gentle environment.

“False,” was Marty’s one word pronouncement.

“False or not, it’s better than out there,” she said. She took hold of his hand and led into one of the coupling chambers surrounding the lobby. The door hissed shut automatically behind them, the magnetic locks clicking in place. Lili tried not to let the hairs on her neck rise in panic as they were locked in. Coupling chambers were locked for sixty hours, the equivalent of six on-off shifts or three standard days, as White D6 had explained it to them, presumably to encourage the couples to concentrate on the act of procreation. Lili crossed her eyes, imagining a vixen shouting to her children, You’ll stay in your room until you’re pregnant!

Well, if it was to be their cell, at least it was a comfortable one. More imported stone lined the circular walls, enclosing a chamber some four meters across. At the center was a pit filled soft padded foam and suitably decadent number of pillows. Mounted equidistant from each other along the curved was a standard auto-kitchen, an entertainment unit programmed with a variety of soothing music and natural sounds, and a door leading a tiled fresher chamber with toilet and an actual, honest bathtub, wide and deep enough to accommodate two people.

Lili tried to imagine one of the sensory deprived inhabitants of this station entering one of these chambers the first time. The overload of relatively luxury would have to be close to overwhelming. It was no wonder they were willing to take the risk of falsifying their scan records for the chance to spend some time in here.

“Are you hungry, Marty?” she asked, walking over to the auto-kitchen.

“Yes, Lili,” he answered, settling himself in the nest of pillows. “What do they have for food?”

“Sandwiches, something called “Baked Chicken”, must be a human dish, roast kin goose, barbecued terinu, a few others. Only thing to drink is water and fruit juice.”

“Just a sandwich and water, please.”

Lili punched in his order and added a helping of roast kin goose and vegetables, along with a fruit juice for herself. Two minutes later their meals popped out, and she settled down next to Marty with their tray of food. “I hate waking up from the trip sleep with my stomach growling,” she said, tearing into her meal. “I wonder if we can talk the Resistance techs into modding the anesthetic injectors to give us a sugar feed or something while we’re under?”

Marty rubbed his shoulder where, she remembered with a guilty start, the scar of one of the feeding tubes from his time in the hands of the Varn Mindstrider was hidden under his fur. “No, I don’t really think I’d care for that.”