Fluency by Jennifer Foehner Wells

disarray and on the verge of environmental collapse—”
    Cunabula? Sectilius? She felt dizzy from the influx of information. “Wait,” Jane interrupted. “You’re saying that the symbols are…and we’re communicating now, in Mensententia?”
    “It is time, Dr. Jane Holloway. You will awaken with compr ehension of this vessel fully integrated, and must act immediately. It shall be quite clear to you what must be done. We cannot yet converse while you are conscious, but if you listen, you will hear my communiqués. I will offer assistance wherever possible. Go now.”
    “Wait! Tell me your name!”
    “I am the Gubernaviti. Ei’Brai.”
    “Aiyee-Brai?” She repeated it automatically, to be certain she’d heard every nuance of the name and would remember and pr onounce it correctly, but there was no answer. Only agonizing pain.

6
    Bergen stepped in first, triggering the lights to come on. A puff of air greeted him. It was another huge storage room. This one was filled with floor-to-ceiling, cylindrical storage tanks—all the same color as everything else in the ship.
    “Somehow, I expected the interior of an alien spaceship to be a little more exciting,” Walsh commented.
    “Yeah.” Bergen glanced at Walsh as they walked down the undulating aisle, getting a feel for just how far back it went. The aisles weren’t in conventionally-structured, straight lines. “What do you think about what Jane said?”
    “I’ll wait to hear what Varma says on the subject.” Walsh’s tone let him know that was the end of that discussion. “Any idea what’s in these tanks?”
    Bergen yawned, then shrugged. “Same kinda stuff we’ve got in our tanks, probably. Water, compressed gases, fuel of some kind. It takes a helluva lot of gas to fill a ship of this size with air. I’m sure Jane’ll figure it all out. She’s fucking amazing.” He shrugged again and suppressed the urge to giggle with a frown.
    He glanced at Walsh to see if he’d noticed his expression or the comment about Jane. He hadn’t. He was busy studying what a ppeared to be a valve on one of the tanks. He’d taken off his pack and harness and was bent over in an exaggerated, comical pose. He needed a really big magnifying glass to complete the picture. Bergen snorted at the idea.
    “Speaking of air—it’s really blowing around in here, don’cha think?” Walsh swayed a little bit and grinned. That was weird. Walsh never smiled. “Feels good after ten months of stale air crammed in that damn teapot.”
    Bergen spontaneously whooped with laughter. “I know, right? It’s like the ventilation system’s gone haywire.”
    Walsh clapped him on the shoulder, an uncharacteristically friendly gesture, dragging his pack and emergency breathing equipment behind him. “We’ll tell the little green guys to fix it, if we ever find ‘em.”
    “Yep. No, no. Jane’ll tell ‘em.”
    Walsh nodded solemnly. He was acting like he was drunk. That didn’t seem normal. “Right. What was that about, yesterday, do you think?”
    Bergen shook his head, trying to clear it. Things were a little fuzzy. “I just asked you that and you said you’re gonna wait to hear what Ajaya says.”
    “Right. I said that. You’re a total ass, you know that Berg?”
    He gave Walsh a playful shove and Walsh went reeling across the room, laughing his ass off.
    “Hey, hey, hey—careful! I think Gibbs bruised a couple of ribs yesterday when he fell on me.” Walsh staggered to his feet and seemed confused, feeling around his torso with both hands. “That’s funny—they don’t really hurt much anymore.”
    Bergen approached Walsh slowly. “Did you tell Ajaya about that?”
    Walsh heaved an exaggerated sigh. “It’s nothing. Holloway was more important at the time.” He looked around. They’d wandered down a narrow aisle between the tanks after he’d shoved Walsh. “A door,” Walsh commented blandly. “Let’s open it up and see what’s next door. More of the same, I