Really Really Really Big (part 4)
"Come on, Gale," moaned Walder. "You're stalling."
"I must add concurrence, Gale-human, as well as perplexity. What is this other 'really really really big' vessel of legendary reference?"
Maggie sipped at her glass of port, letting the dark liquid rest in her mouth for a moment.
"It was an ocean liner," whined Walder, "fifty yearcycles before Earth humans ventured into space." He held up his wide-mouthed crystal glass; one of the bartender's tentacles, wrapped in silver and green cloths at the end, met up with it in mid-air. The tentacle held a glass of its own. From it, chunks of ice tumbled melodically into Walder's glass.
"It hit a floating chunk of ice in the water and sank." A second tentacle, draped in orange cloths, stretched from the bartender, splashing alcohol into the chilling crystal. "The ship was poorly engineered, there weren't enough lifeboats, and people died. If Gale is talking about an Armas ship, then none of that applies, and her story is just that - a story." He brought the now-filled glass to his lips and drained it.
All four of the Sumnar voice organs turned towards Captain Gale, the red tendrils suddenly stiffly straight.
"Then, Gale-human, my capacity for tolerant probabilities is constrained, for I have direct sensorial experience with the Armas-species. Walder-human enunciates succinctly of the improbabilities in your exposition."
"The Armas," Maggie replied, "are well-known for their supposed skills in starship design, it is true. However, they are even better when it comes to public relations."