Switched

Switched - Chapter 5

"Hiya, sweetcakes!"

Startled by the overly-friendly male voice, Veronese Qilana looked up from the workbench in Jessica's garage. Because of the stifling heat, she had raised the large door.

Veronese set down the narrow screwdriver, a primitive tool but all she had to work with as she tried to repair her transmitter. "May I help you, sir?"

"Oo-o, aren't we all la-de-da." The man tipped up the brim of his cap, emblazoned with an Old English D.

That was the symbol of the Detroit Tigers. She thanked the Intrepid Ones she had researched the social and entertainment customs of the area in which her twin lived. Was her visitor a member of that baseball team? Beneath the man's cap, clumps of dark blond hair stuck out in several directions.

In an effort to decipher his strange speech, she examined his tone and facial expression. Neither helped. "La de da?" she asked.

"You got anything to drink, sweetcakes? I'm all out over there." He jerked his thumb toward the dilapidated farmhouse across the road. So, that was how he came upon her without her hearing. He simply walked across the unpaved road. She was relieved that her surprise at his arrival was not due to her intense concentration on her work.

"I am able to give you coffee." At his scowl, she realized that was not what he expected. She should have included subtle speech context in her preparation for her visit to Earth. There was much she was not prepared for. This trip was not going as planned.

"Got any beer?" he asked in an exasperated tone.

His initial greeting indicated he was on friendly terms with Jessica. But, something about him did not seem right. His eyes darted from one side of the work area to the other. From the time he greeted her, he never looked directly at her. The longer she stared at him, the edgier he became. Perhaps he was not a friend.

"Water would refresh you. A dispenser is over there." She pointed to her left.

"Hey, you got a water cooler out here. Not exactly what I was looking for, though." He sauntered over to the dispenser. He filled and drained a paper cup several times before crumpling it up and tossing it toward the trash barrel. He missed yet left the cup on the floor.

Smacking his lips, he returned to the front of the workbench. "My, my, that sure was good. Nothing I like better'n a cool drink of water."

His tone sounded sarcastic, but she was uncertain.

"Course a good brewski would've tasted better." He had been sarcastic. If she could not return to the ship, she would have to learn the nuances of speech. "Specially on a hot day like this," he added.

The day was very warm. Late September in Michigan was supposed to be temperate weather, like Serenia. Not this heat that left her—rather, Jessica's—T-shirt sticking to her skin. Unused to long hair, she had gathered it high off her neck.

The man's vocabulary confused her. "Brewski?" she asked.

"A beer, sweetcakes. A beer."

She should have studied twenty-first century American linguistics in more depth. She was in way over her head, as they say here. She picked up the screwdriver and continued taking apart the transmitter she brought from the Freedom. She lost contact with the ship twelve hours ago. Worse, she was unable to contact any Alliance vessel.

That did not make sense. At least two other research vessels were assigned to this sector. The Adventure, the farthest from Earth, had relayed her transmission to the Freedom. Why was the Freedom out of range? It should still be in orbit around Earth. Normal research time was at least two Earth weeks.