Consider pegasus, p.1
Consider Pegasus, page 1
part #1 of Starship Teapot #3 Series
Praise for The Left Hand of Dog
A deeply heartfelt story … Clarke understands the peculiar magic that is addressing a serious topic without taking oneself seriously in the process, and wields wit and wordplay with enviable skill. Pratchett and Adams fans, take note.
Tyler Hayes, author of The Imaginary Corpse
Wonderfully charming and beautifully weird… I can’t stop thinking about how delightful this book is. It is exactly what I needed!
Amanda, Bookish Brews
It didn’t take me long to realise I would absolutely love this novel.
Anna Frost, Twenty-six Letters
If you like alien first contact, nerdy references, and talking dogs – you wanna read this book!
El, Ink and Plasma Reviews
Farcical theatre at its best … full of wit and charm.
John Derek, Goodreads user
A wonderfully accessible yarn.
Siesta, Goodreads user
What a fun book!
Jim Razinha, Goodreads user
A perfect way to spend a stormy evening.
Margaret, Goodreads user
Consider Pegasus
A space tale about unicorn rights
Starship Teapot #3
Si Clarke
Print edition ISBN 978-1-7397681-2-6
ebook edition ISBN 978-1-7397681-1-9
Consider Pegasus
www.whitehartfiction.co.uk
* * *
Copyright © 2022 by SI CLARKE
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Most recent update: 7 November 2022
* * *
Editing by:
• Charlie Knight of Charlie Knight Writes
• Nicholas Taylor of Just Write Right
• Hannah McCall of Black Cat Editorial Services
Cover art by: Rebeca Covers
Teapot illustration by: Yuliya Zabelina
Unicorn horn illustration by: Ryan Prakoso
Created with Vellum
Contents
Author's Note
Content warnings
Previously on Starship Teapot…
1. A salad plate?
2. It takes a unicorn
3. Lem and the beanstalk
4. Cacti and sacred cabbages
5. Please stop saying penis
6. Sleeping alone
7. Joker's wild
8. Deep Space Five
9. Deptford Death Sauce
10. Zippy the walking rainbow
11. Never set foot on a gas giant
12. Not all bunnyboos
13. Bungle
14. But science!
15. Violet, Horta, Fern, and Bees
16. e pluribus unicorn
17. This is getting to be a habit
18. Pub
The end (for now)
Acknowledgements
About the author
Also by SI CLARKE
Author's Note
This book is written in British English. If you’re used to reading American English, some of the spelling and punctuation may seem unusual. I promise, it’s totally safe.
This story also features a number of Canadianisms. Sadly, I cannot promise these are safe. You may find yourself involuntarily wearing a touque and craving Timbits and a double-double. It can’t be helped. Seek treatment immediately.
Lastly, this book contains an inordinate number of geek culture references. This as an homage to all things science fiction. There are countless references to all my favourites – Star Trek, Red Dwarf, Firefly, The X-Files, Doctor Who, Battlestar Galactica, Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Babylon 5, The Expanse, etc. None of it should be read as derogatory or dismissive, nor would I ever suggest my work can take the place of anyone else’s. Please support artists and authors. This is my love song to the entire genre.
Content warnings
Strong themes of ableism and transphobia throughout
Pregnancy and brief mentions of miscarriage and baby loss
Also, please note that trans women are women. Trans men are men. Non-binary people are who they tell you they are. This book is not for TERFs.
Previously on Starship Teapot…
Okay, you know how in TV shows you get that little one-minute segment at the start of each episode to catch you up? Books should do that too, I think. Just a handy little reminder since it may have been a while since you read the previous books. Or maybe you’re like me and you’ve jumped right in at book three. No judgement.
Previously on Starship Teapot… [You may want to imagine Anthony Stewart Head’s voice reading this to you.]
Lem, a perfectly ordinary aro-ace agender IT project manager, is kidnapped by aliens while camping with her German shepherd, Spock. While trying to figure out how to get home, they make some new friends: a talking horse-person, an unswearing robot, an overly anxious parrot, and a cloud of sentient glitter gas. Along the way, Lem discovers that the universe is far stranger than she’d ever imagined.
One of the things Lem learns is that Darmok and Jalad were right: communication requires a shared frame of reference. So, Holly, Lem’s universal translator and personal AI, suggests using figurative mode to facilitate easier discourse.
‘This will include facts you already know but may have forgotten,’ it explained. ‘I will also incorporate extrapolative and fictional sources. Your extensive knowledge of science fiction will provide a useful base for figurative mode.’
Early on in her new life in space, Lem encounters an alien.
She raised her arms. Wait, his arms? Their arms? I shook my head. Not the time to wonder about alien pronouns. I decided to stick with she until someone told me otherwise.
Much later, Lem learns that alien sex and gender are … complicated. The binary most people are used to on Earth doesn’t apply.
‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘If pronouns don’t align to sex or gender because most species don’t think that way … does that mean BB, Aurora, and Henry aren’t women?’
So there are two pronouns: she for all sentient beings and it for all non-sentient/inanimate objects. And as for names…
‘Back in the early days of translators, programmers tried to transliterate names of people and places,’ said Bexley. ‘But it was all “unintelligible noise this” and “awkward silence that”. No, in the end, they decided the best thing for it was for people to make their own names for everyone they encounter. Once you assign a name to someone, your AI will remember it.’
That’s right: it’s literally impossible to misgender or deadname someone. Whatever you may call a person, the translator will convert it to their preferred name or pronoun.
After two kidnappings and three escapes, Lem and the gang meet up in the pub. And when it’s finally time to go home, Lem and Spock decide that, actually, they’re more at home in this weird and wonderful universe than they ever were on Earth.
Lem and her new friends buy the Teapot and form a transport company. One of their first jobs is working for the Galactic Union (basically the space version of the EU). They’re hired to help rescue people called the plenties before their planet is destroyed by an asteroid. Along the way, they meet the kobolds, a second species on the planet, who are oppressed by the plenties.
Bexley emphasised each word with gestures. ‘Okay, I have to preface this by saying I’m not a lawyer or anything. I know a little bit – and one thing I know for certain is that protecting people from slavery and oppression is a core tenet of the GU.’
The Teapotters work alongside the kobolds, getting them off the planet before disaster strikes.
And now … the next episode.
1 A salad plate?
‘I still can’t believe you two walked all that way in the dark.’ Bexley heaved another crate into the getoff, the big ground-to-orbit vehicle we were loading. She had swiftly become my best friend in my new life in the Galactic Union. She looked a bit like a small chestnut-coloured horse on two legs with orange eyes and a long, blond mane.
I shrugged. ‘It wasn’t a big deal. Spock looked after me. She could see where we were going somehow.’ I smiled at my German shepherd as the clouds above obscured the planet’s distant sun. It wasn’t exactly bright out – but this was as good as it got around here. I shuddered – I couldn’t wait to see the back of this place. ‘Well, no. She couldn’t see. I’ve no idea how she could tell where we were. But she could. She kept me on the road.’
Spock raised her head. ‘Spock good girl?’ She couldn’t help carry crates but she accompanied us everywhere as we loaded up. She and I had been kidnapped from Earth more than six months earlier in a case of mistaken identity.
Smiling, I buried my hand in her thick fur. ‘The bestest, mate.’
Before heading back to grab the next crate, Bexley stopped to stroke Spock’s nose. ‘We couldn’t ask for a better physical protection officer.’
Spock lay down on her back, one leg kicking in the air. ‘Rub belly?’
Of course, both Bexley and I obliged.
With one hoof still on Spock, Bexley looked up at me. ‘What about you, Lem? Are you feeling more settled now that you have specific responsibilities on the Teapot?’
For the first few months of our new life in space, I was uneasy. I knew I belonged and I felt welcomed and accepted – yet I
didn’t feel like I had a purpose of my own. But during our work evacuating the residents of planet Dave last month, it became apparent that my experience as a project manager on Earth could actually be useful in my new life. I breathed in the planet’s stale, dusty air. After coughing most of it back up again, I replied. ‘Yeah. I am. It feels good to add value. I like being productive. It’s got me feeling more settled now.’
Bexley stood back up. ‘Good. I’m glad. I mean, obviously, I’m not glad that you think you weren’t being productive before. Because you totally were. And even if you weren’t … we value you for who you are, not for what you can do for us.’
I pursed my lips. ‘I know. But I suppose I’ve always been a bit … I don’t know. The odd one out, I guess. No matter where I went or who I was with, part of me always felt like I didn’t really fit in, you know?’ It was tough to articulate what it was like to be just a little bit out of place all the time. Or a lot out of place. Depending.
Bexley chewed the air for a moment. ‘I know. Believe me, I get that. I—’
Whatever Bexley was going to say next died away as Henry rolled up to us pushing a trolley full of crates. ‘Hey, meat-based people.’
Henry was a smooth blue cylinder who looked a bit like a vacuum. Or a rubbish bin. Her incredibly refined and cultured voice always seemed at odds with her insults and sarcasm.
‘Hi, Henry,’ said Bexley. ‘We’re going to make it on time, right?’
Henry extruded a pair of pointy implements and jabbed them at the crates. ‘If you muffler parkas could stop taking breaks and hurry up with the loading, we will. The client said the frolicking job was ours so long as we got there by the end of the day. At warp five, we’ll be there with a few corking hours to spare.’
Henry was unable to overwrite the programming that prevented her from swearing. But she always found ways to make her meaning clear.
‘Sweet.’ Bexley hoisted up one of Henry’s crates and hauled it into the getoff. ‘We’ll get to Hard Rock station and collect the merchandise and… Oh my gosh! I’ve just remembered all over again what this job is. Have you ever even seen Galactovision? We’re going to be carrying gear for Megaboulder! Like, we actually get to meet Megaboulder. And she’s trusted us to transport her equipment to her next gig. Do you know how cool that is? I mean, seriously?’
Bexley and Aurora had both been gushing about this for days. From what I could gather, Galactovision was essentially Space Eurovision. The horta won last year with their entry, Megaboulder and the Accountants of Doom. Megaboulder and her band were capitalising on their fame with a galaxy-spanning tour. I was cautiously excited to see what Galactovision was all about – but so far it was a complete mystery.
We were loading the last of Henry’s crates into the getoff when BB and Aurora approached, steering another trolley with two crates.
I smiled at both of them. ‘Hey, you two.’
BB lifted her golden yellow wings in greeting.
‘Hello, everyone,’ said Aurora.
Spock ran to meet them – well, Aurora mainly. ‘Food friend! Bring Spock treats?’
BB reached out with her lower set of hands and ran her talons through Spock’s fur. ‘I’m pretty sure you’ve eaten recently.’
Spock’s face fell. ‘Spock not eat today. Starving.’
Aurora glowed royal blue and her nebulous form sort of quivered. ‘That’s simply not true.’ She extended a gassy nub of herself and tickled Spock’s chin.
Spock wagged her tail hopefully. ‘Feed Spock?’
I hustled over to where they stood to break the cycle. Spock could play this game all day. ‘Come here, sweetie.’ I put my hand on her back and steered her back towards the getoff.
Bexley sort of ran-skipped over to BB and Aurora and waved a hoof at the trolley. ‘Is that the last of it?’
BB tapped one long talon on the top crate. ‘Indeed. That’s everything. Once these are loaded up, we’re good to go.’
Half an hour later, we were loading the same crates into our cargo bay when Bexley dropped what she was doing. ‘Oh, oh, oh! It’s my dad calling.’ She squealed and danced in circles around the room. ‘Not the one who owns the company that makes the engines. And not the one with the pink mane. And not the one who’s always after me to – well, whatever. Anyways, this is the one I talk about most. Remember I suggested we should all go visit her and her spouses after the next job? She’s the one I spent most of my time with growing up. You’re really going to like her. Oh, and her spouses are amazing, too. I mean, I don’t know the newest one all that well…’
‘You should probably answer the call, Bex.’ I covered my chuckle with one hand. ‘Or she’s going to hang up.’
‘Oh, right.’ Bexley pressed a few buttons.
‘Hello? Bexley, is that you?’ A new voice spoke into the room.
‘Hang on.’ Bexley fumbled with her tablet. ‘I’m just putting you on the holo.’
‘No, Bexley,’ replied the voice. ‘I think this might—’
‘It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got this.’ Bexley was clicking and tapping on the tablet. ‘Just … one … more… There!’ With her final swiping motion, three tiny people burst into existence in the air above her tablet. That is, they probably weren’t actually tiny. But they were tablet-sized at the moment. And they appeared to be crowded into a phone booth or maybe a shower.
‘No, Bexley,’ said a bright white areion with a pearlescent mane and a charcoal nose, who I immediately dubbed Storm in my mind. ‘This maybe isn’t the best time for you to have all your… No, actually, you know what?’ She fiddled with something that looked a bit like a fidget spinner – though one designed for areion hooves instead of human hands. ‘We’re going to need to impose on your friends, so maybe it is for the best. I mean, it’s hardly the ideal way to meet them, but—’
Another areion, this one shorter, plump, and grey with a long purple mane, put her hoof on the first person’s arm. ‘Sweetheart. It’s going to be okay.’ She waved cheerfully at all of us. ‘Hey, Bexley. Hello, Bexley’s friends.’
I waved back. ‘Hi, Bexley’s family.’
‘Oh, everyone. This is my family. Well, one of my families.’ Bexley waved a hoof at the holographic representations on top of her device. ‘This is my dad.’ She pointed to the white areion before gesturing towards the grey one. ‘And this is one of my dad’s spouses. They’ve been together since I was a kid. I spent a lot of my adolescence with them after … well, after things happened.’
The whole introductions with no names thing took some getting used to. Universal translators didn’t do names because, apparently, they didn’t translate. Sometimes they were a collection of noises another species couldn’t make or couldn’t hear. Other times they had meanings that were sort of like inside jokes shared by a whole culture or planet. So the universal translator didn’t try. Instead, you were meant to assign names of your own choosing to everyone you met. Or let your AI choose for you.
Hence, people introduced themselves and one another using job titles or by describing how they were connected.
Sometimes names came to me easily … and sometimes they didn’t. After naming Bexley’s dad Storm in a heartbeat, I called her grey spouse Jean.
But I drew a blank when Bexley got to the one remaining person. ‘And this is Storm and Jean’s newest spouse. Well, I say newest. They’ve actually been married now for…’ Bexley gestured towards the tallest member of the family, a navy blue person with a short spiky mane – like a brush or a broom. ‘How long has it been since you joined the family? It’s got to be at least a few years. I remember you were all courting when I moved away to college. I mean, the first college. Or was it…’
