Nervously tapping a mallet on his karmantui, Inlan checked the clock again. Only two chips until he was scheduled to contact the cart. Would this Clementine mind if he was early? It may take a little time to even make the connection. He should probably just initiate. But then he remembered how fixated on schedules Tierney had been. He'd shown up two chips late once to walk with her to lunch, and she'd teased him about it for days.

He smiled at the memory, again wondering if the person he was calling was related to her. Now that he didn't have Lutari to spend time with, he missed Tierney even more. She hadn't cared that he was a bronze -- he wasn't sure if she even knew how bronzes were perceived by other Relicans. But even if she had, Inlan doubted it would have changed anything. She was friendly and funny, and even though he didn't fully understand what had happened with her and Tausson, he didn't consider her a malign influence, like so many others in the fleet. After all of the research he had done into Earthan life, how could anyone expect anything less from these women? Their entire culture seemed bent on making them view every man as a potential mate for life.

Finally it was five chips to jade, and Inlan entered the sightscreen number. A moment later, the feed was accepted, and he was staring down at two Earthans sitting at a table in one of the cart dwellings. He recognized Tierney's sister immediately from the photograph she had kept in her lodge. Clementine was approximately Lutari's age -- barely past her second decade, with reddish orange hair that reminded him of the sky at sunfall. The other Earthan was not in Tierney's photograph. Inlan wasn't even sure if it was male or female, with a woman's long pale gray hair, but a man's wide face and flat chest.

Straightening up in his seat, he cleared his throat, trying to appear as professional and imposing as he could. "Clementine Dawson?" he asked.

"That's me," she said, giving a small wave. "And this is Mr. Jay Crayden, formerly our neighbor, now our roommate."

The one with long gray hair smiled. "Pleasure to meet you, Sir. How do you folks say 'Hello' again?" He stretched his arm forward in an attempt at the traditional Relican greeting. "I don't remember it exactly, but it was so beautiful."

Inlan extended a fist toward the sightscreen and said, "Normally we have soil in our hand, but we say, 'The soil is within us. We are within the soil.'"

Mr. Crayden repeated the greeting, then said, "So wonderful. I knew we could trust your people right then and there. It's obvious you respect the earth, and anyone who thinks that way is A-okay by me."

"You're First Tin Inlan?" asked Clementine.

"I am," he said, deepening his voice. "How may I assist you?"

"I'm looking for the orchestral parts of a specific piece of music. The Governor's office said you could help me."

"Music?" he said eagerly, forgetting the persona he was trying to maintain. "What kind?"

A small smile perked up Clementine's pink lips, and she leaned forward, inadvertently pushing up her breasts. They weren't as big as Tierney's, but they were still far larger than any Relican woman's.

"It's what we call classical music."

Her words jolted him out of his thoughts, and he pinned his gaze back up on her face. What was wrong with him? One day without pairing and he was already ogling women like a soft-skin?

Clementine picked a thin book up off the table and read from it. "The piece I'm looking for is..." She looked back up at him and asked, "Do you want to write this down?"

"This wave will be digitally stored in the vessel's memory," he said, again assuming his self-important air. "It will be accessible if I forget details."

She grimaced. "You're recording this?"

Inlan didn't like the way she was looking at him. He wanted her smile back. "It is standard procedure, to ensure proper protocols are maintained."

"I guess there won't be any phone s--" Her lips had curled upwards again as she spoke, but then her dark green eyes widened and she cut herself off.

Mr. Crayden laughed. "No naughty jokes," he chided. "They don't like that kind of thing."

"Scratch that," she said with a smirk. "Anyway..." She picked up her book again. "The piece is by Antonin Dvorak: Symphony Number Nine in E Minor, From the New World. You might also find it under New World Symphony. I'm looking for the full score and the individual instrumental parts. It was written in 1893, if that helps."

"New World?"

"Pretty on the nose, eh?" Mr. Crayden said with a laugh. "Good musicians are always ahead of their time."

Tucking the phrase ahead of their time into his arsenal of Earthan sayings, Inlan gestured towards the book and asked, "You have only an excerpt?"

"This is the cello part," she said. "I'm organizing a local orchestra. If everything goes according to plan, we'll eventually have all of the instruments to perform it."

"I remember seeing references to the orchestra while assembling the Culture Report and listening to some samples. The music was brilliant. The chord progressions are so different than traditional Relican composition, but the instrumentation is actually very similar."

"Really?" she asked, her entire countenance brightening.

"I'm not surprised," said Mr. Crayden. "Music is the universal language. Music can soften cruel hearts and pierce even the toughest --"

"Wait," said Clementine, putting out a hand to silence Mr. Crayden. Staring at Inlan like an andat about to pounce, she said, "When you say 'similar,' how similar are we talking? Do you think Relican instruments could say... I don't know... replace our instruments and blend into an orchestra? No pressure -- just a mind experiment."

Her casual demeanor was obviously feigned, and Inlan yearned to give her the answer she clearly wanted. Using his tablet, he pulled up images of the instruments in a standard American orchestra, comparing them to all of the instruments he knew of. "Perhaps by retuning, the jarhal could blend harmonically -- it's very versatile -- but the chamber is shaped so differently than your string instruments. The tone wouldn't match."

The spark of hope in her eye dimmed. "Well, it was worth a shot," she said, slumping in her seat. "Thanks anyway."

There was a knock on their door, and Mr. Crayden stood to answer, greeting whoever the visitor was with an exuberant, "Hello, there!" Turning back to Clementine, he said, "I'm gonna step out for a bit. I'll be back in a few hours."

"K," she replied, absently flipping through her score with defeat.

Mr. Crayden waved at Inlan and said, "Bye bye!" before moving out of view. Inlan waved back, then continued scanning the inventory of instruments.

"Well, that's it, then," said Clementine, turning the book face down on the table. "Let me know if you can find the scores though. Maybe we'll luck out."

"Wait," said Inlan, a smile growing on his lips, "the nubla might work."

"Nubla?" she asked, clearly still skeptical. "What kind of instrument is it?"

"Hold a moment." He moved away from the sightscreen, his stomach swirling with anticipation. Unlocking the wheels, he rolled his nubla into view. "This is a nubla," he said with triumph.

Clementine's mouth opened in shock. She stood up from the table, revealing a pair of long, slender legs. Her shirt and shorts clung to every curve of her body as she moved closer to the screen, reaching towards him. Inlan imagined her magically stepping through and being there in his room, and the shock of pleasure that coursed through him at the thought surprised him.

"It looks a lot like a timpani, which we don't have," she said, eyeing it with a guarded smile. "What does it sound like?"

He removed the long curved mallets from their pouch on the side of the instrument, and drummed them gently against the andat skin that stretched across the top. The hollow stone reverberated with the deep pitch, and instantly Clementine's smile returned. He increased the volume, filling his room with a rolling thunder, and then struck the sides of the drum, piercing the drone with sharp rhythms.

When the music subsided, Clementine raised her arms and let out a whoop of victory. "Yes! It's not a perfect match, but it's close enough. That will definitely work! Yes! I'd totally hug you right now if you weren't on a space ship!"

She wiggled her body and spun around. A warmth spread through Inlan's chest with the knowledge that he was the source for her joy -- even if only indirectly.

"How will you get it down here?" she asked, stopping her celebratory dance. "And will you be available for rehearsals?"

"Rehearsals?" he asked, snapping out of his daydream of being hugged by Clementine.

"Yeah. We meet every other day from around ten to two. Our next rehearsal is tomorrow."

His mouth opened to say the words, "I'll be there," but his Squad training overtook his eagerness, and instead, he asked, "You have no one capable of performing with this?"

"We've been searching for both a timpani and a timpanist, but to no avail. Granted, it hasn't even been a week yet, but the likelihood that someone was nuts enough to bring one is pretty small. Plus, we want this to be a performance of the highest quality. Even a professional timpanist would essentially be learning how to play your instrument on the job." She shook her head and pointed at him with both hands, grinning widely. "You, my friend, are the one I need."

Her words rattled in his ears and drifted through his body, making him feel lighter, warmer. But then an icy fear settled in his stomach. Why was she effecting him like this? Was this how Tausson had felt when he'd become attached to Tierney? Was Onaka right? Had he really been... infected somehow?

The tension eased when he realized the cause. She reminds me of Lutari, he thought, remembering his lonely dinner. I miss my friend. That's all.

"I'll notify the Stratum Officer of your request," he said, straightening his sagging posture. "I'm sure there won't be a problem with my loaning the nubla, as that's my personal property. Convincing him to release me from my daily duties on such a regular basis, however, will be more difficult."

"I believe in you," she said. "Who could say no to that face?"

She was obviously joking, but a chill still flooded his cheeks.

"So when do you think you'll be able to find the parts?" she asked.

"Depending on how readily available they are, I may be able to send them to your Governor this evening. We have almost an hour before rest."

"Rest?" she asked. "You mean sleep?" She glanced to her left at the artificial sunlight shining into the dwelling. "It's only three in the afternoon."

"We have a twenty-five hour cycle as opposed to your twenty-four," he explained. "You could say we're ahead of our time."

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Lutari had laughed at all of his jokes, but it was the bad ones she'd enjoyed most, so after years of eliciting her cheap laughs, he'd forgotten that not everyone shared her humor. What if Clementine thought that he thought that was a good joke? Should he say something else? Apologize? No, something clever. Something that would prove that he was clever.

But all he could think of were the words he'd already said, the words that were now hurtling through the space between them. He held his nervous smile as they ran through the translator in Clementine's sightscreen receiver, as they were spoken by an unemotional, computerized voice in a language he couldn't understand, and he continued holding it, even in the silent moment afterward, when she had clearly heard them, but appeared unsure how to react.

In other words, it felt like forever.

Slowly she smiled -- a surprised, incredulous smile that made her green eyes sparkle like emeralds. Maybe the joke wasn't so bad after all. Maybe, it was the best joke in the universe.

"I see," she said. "Well, thank you so much." She began walking towards the wall, where the panel was mounted that would cease the transmission.

"You are welcome," he said, trying to think of ways to continue their conversation. "I'll do more research regarding other instruments, to see if there are any other possible substitutes."

"That would be great, thanks," she said, not pausing her advance.

"I'll also notify you when the decision regarding my availability is made."

Though she was still smiling, only her head was visible now, the rest cut off below the screen. "Awesome. You're my hero!"

She ended their call, and Inlan immediately contacted Stratum Emmot. The sooner he could convince Clementine that her last words were accurate, the better.