Tiny Dots On An Endless Timeline

Oppenheimer

Himey nearly skipped through the corridors, her heart racing as she lead the Vidhvan through the hallways past doors to various parts of the ship. Himey's hands felt rough and stubby wrapped around the Vidhvan's long, spindly, and elegant fingers. As Himey babbled about what was behind each door, she could feel those inky eyes fixed on her. It was a little unsettling, but Himey decided if every other human on this ship was going to freak out, she wouldn't be one of them. Himey knew that Skip sometimes had questionable judgment about the crew, but she couldn't help but trust Nimoy. Nimoy was her person, her other half, her interspecies soul-sibling. Nimoy's only hesitance had been out of concern for the Vidhvan, not for her or her dad or Jax. If this little creature was as bad as all that, he would never have not protected her. Right?

Himey came to an abrupt stop in front of an otherwise unmarked door with a small terminal next to it. "These are your quarters. I'm across the hall. There are only two rooms up here, I have had it to myself since I moved out of my Pop's office when I was 15." She smiled brightly down at the little Vidhvan who looked plaintively up at her.

"Right, so how you get into the room is you touch this terminal-" Himey stopped. Looking from the terminal, which had been placed at shoulder height to Himey. To the Vidhvan, who was about the size of an eight year old, it was out of reach. "Well, then I will have to move the terminal for you, that's no problem," started Himey, pulling out her own portable terminal and making a note for herself.

"It is no trouble," said the Vidhvan. The first time Himey had heard her speak, since leaving the mess hall. Her voice was lilting and musical, like a song you heard and loved, but could no longer remember. Himey paused and watched open mouthed as the Vidvhan raised their free hand towards the terminal and, without anything seeming to touch the terminal at all, it flashed green, as though it had accepted her touch, and the door slid open. Himey gawked.

"How...?" said Himey, still holding her terminal in hands that now felt like they belonged to someone else. The Vidhvan looked up at her and her little cherub mouth smiled in an almost mischievous look of delight.

"Magic."

"Magic?" Himey said breathless with wonder and more than a little anxiety. This mirth left the Vidhvan's expression, but the smile remained, her hairless brows drawn up in a look of plaintive understanding.

"Not all magic is cloaks and wands, in fact most magic is just biology." With the hand still holding Himey's, she drew her into the room behind her and the door slid shut behind them. Once inside, the Vidhvan extracted her hand from Himey's gently and took her bag off her shoulder. It looked half full and deflated compared to what most new crew members came aboard with. Looking at this small being and their smaller bag made Oppenheimer sad in a way she couldn't express. What kind of life had this Vidhvan lived to have so little that was meaningful to her. Himey surveyed the room and it looked bare. The bunk had clean sheets folded at the foot of it, there was a desk and a chair, and a compartment for storing clothing and equipment. All of it was standard, utilitarian, and when looked at through this lens, a little bleak. Himey felt her face redden and felt shame at her father's reaction to the Vidhvan.

"Well, this is it. I have built mag-safes into all the shelves and things so if you have anything you want to put out let me know, I will give you the stickies to attach them so that if we have to do any emergency maneuvering and don't have time to turn off the gravity, your things don't get broken."

"I think that when I leave my quarters I will likely turn the gravity off to conserve power," said the Vidhvan. A thought suddenly struck Himey and she smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand in a gesture so human the Vidhvan laughed and mimicked the action.

"Comets and Constellations! I am such an asshole!" exclaimed Himey. "All that theatrical belly-blurbing and I never even asked your name!" She looked down at the Vidhvan asking, "So what is it anyway?"

"I don't have one," said the Vidhvan quietly, opening their small bag and removing a few small metallic boxes, not looking at Himey.

"What do you mean?"

"Vidhvan do not have names in the way you think of it. Before, when we were integrated, our crews and friends of different species gave us names. I have never been around others that were not Vidhvan. Not like this. There was a Halli woman..." She trailed off, her expression getting rather sad and wistful, then shook her head and continued, "but we were not crew so she did not name me."

"So you want us to name you?"

"That was my hope, but after what just happened, I am not sure that we will ever get there." The Vidhvan took out the last little box from their bag, setting in on the neat little pile she had made, pointedly not looking at Oppenheimer.

"Don't worry about them, they are just scared. Jax fought in the Belt Wars, you know, and my Pops.. well, he has seen some shit.."

"It is you also, you're doing a good job of not showing it, but your feelings leak out of you. I try not to listen, but because Humans have no telepathy, they have no walls in their minds. It's like standing in a rainstorm. Around other species, there is a house to go inside of. With Humans, it is just me and my umbrella, I can block some of it for a time, but eventually my shoes will get wet."

"I.." stammered Himey, her cheeks turning a bright red.

"I don't say it to shame you, I appreciate the efforts you have made to step outside of the prejudices that you have. It speaks very highly of your character."

"I want to give you a name," Himey blurted out before she could stop herself.

"My name is not yours to give, but perhaps..." She trailed off as she folded her bag and stowed it inside the drawer of the little desk. Her brow furrowed in thought. "What was it that they called me? Beck something?" Himey visibly flinched.

"BEC-Bomb," she said quietly, feeling the shame rise in her throat like bile.

"Yes, that was it, tell me the meaning." It wasn't a question. Himey heaved a great sigh. And sat down on the floor tailor style, her hands folded in her lap.

"It's not really a nice thing to say."

"Tell me it's meaning despite that."

"Earth has legends like anywhere else. The first part, BEC, is actually an acronym. It stands for Black-Eyed Children. It's an urban legend from ancient Earth. Basically, you're home alone and someone knocks at your door unexpectedly, when you answer the door it's what looks like little kids, but they are very pale and their eyes are completely black. They tell you some story about being vulnerable in some way. Like, say they are lost and need to call their parents and ask to use your phone. Or something like that. So then the unsuspecting person lets them in because human children are vulnerable, and it tugs on the empathy, and then once they are inside, they, uh.." Himey trailed off, her eyes focused on her thumbs.

"Kill the person who was trying to help them?"

"Yes, that's what the legend says."

"That is not really how we work, but," the Vidhvan looked down at herself, "I can see how the comparison could be made." Himey looked up to see her smiling. "We are small, and we have black eyes, and we hold the potential to do great harm. But what humans don't understand is that we do not build this power to use it against anyone. The power builds and we train from birth to keep it at bay."

"What do you mean?"

"My power is not a gun that I have to load, it is already loaded, the safety is off, and my finger is on the trigger, all the time. I have to constantly keep myself from pulling the trigger despite my hand wanting to close."

"I don't understand."

"I don't have to focus to use my power, I have to focus not to. It is hard to explain. The Vidhvan that made your species so afraid of us were... not willing participants in their war, they were manipulated slaves."

"But the History-net says-" Himey started.

"The History-Net lies," the Vidhvan interrupted. "I think I will take this name. But not the bomb part. I think I will be Becbee."

"Why would you take that name? It's horrible."

"Because the only way that we can grow past the stigmas placed on us is to overcome them."