“That’s good,” Byung-Ho said slowly, as though he was having difficulty concentrating. He smelled faintly puzzled. “Say, if you get a chance, there’s something I didn’t get to tell her. . . .”
I’d been about to head off, but he’d piqued my curiosity. “Yes?” I said, trying not to sound too eager.
“Tell her she should pursue engineering,” Byung-Ho said. “Wherever she learned how to do repairs, she’s good. Really good. A talent like that shouldn’t go to waste.”
I couldn’t help blushing. Back home, my family had taken my tinkering with machines for granted. But this was the third time someone on the Pale Lightning had complimented my skills. I silently thanked my father for them.
“Don’t think about her anymore,” I said in a choked-up voice.
“All right,” he said, his frown easing.
I made him forget so he would no longer feel guilty about something that wasn’t his fault. As I watched his face relax, I experienced a pang, like I’d lost a friend. But it was too late to change what I’d done. I smiled nervously and returned to my pallet.
A couple of hours later, a loud tone came over the sound system. I sat bolt upright as though someone had zapped me with lightning. “What’s going on?” I demanded.
The corporal in the pallet next to mine yawned hugely, then cracked her knuckles, making a show of not caring. Her entire leg was in a cast, and I wondered what had happened to her. “Battle must be over,” she said. “If the chief physician isn’t yelling at everyone, the situation can’t be that bad.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. She’d vanished into her office earlier in response to a call from the captain and still hadn’t emerged. I kept eyeing the door nervously, wondering what they were discussing.
The corporal must have seen me flinch, because she laughed, not unkindly. “Don’t be so nervous, Cadet. Any battle you live through is a good battle.”
The physician chose that moment to come out. Her brows lowered. “You,” she said to the corporal, “should take things more seriously.”
Silently, I urged the corporal not to argue with the physician, who looked like she was in a bad mood. I could understand why a doctor wouldn’t enjoy seeing so many people injured. Had anyone died? I hoped not, but I might have missed something while I was sneaking around in the captain’s quarters.
As if my thought had summoned him, I heard the captain’s voice over the announcement system. “All hands, stand down,” he said. I glanced at the clock on the wall, and my eyes widened. The battle had lasted almost seventeen hours. And I had been unconscious for a good chunk of it.
When the physician turned to examine the corporal, I felt cold air whoosh against my skin. Jang.
“Captain Hwan thrives on combat,” he whispered in my ear. “Other captains wouldn’t have fought this long and risked more casualties, or losing the battle entirely.”
“We have prevailed against the hostiles,” the captain went on. “Fortunately”—his voice deepened into a purr that made my hair stand on end—“we have captured some of them. I do not anticipate any further threat at this time. However, we will need to put in for repairs. Our next stop will be the shipyard at Abalone Spire.” He went on in this vein for a while.
I was thinking that our good luck was the captives’ bad fortune when the captain’s words penetrated. Repairs. That meant we weren’t headed directly to the Fourth Colony.
What did the captain expect to find out from the captives? Were they after the Dragon Pearl, too? If so—my pulse quickened—then I wanted to learn what they knew.
Captives would be kept in the brig. I’d never been stuck in it, thank goodness, but I knew where it was. I had to get down there.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” I said to the physician. It would be better if she discharged me so I could save Charm for what was to follow. “I’m feeling a lot better now. Do you think it would be all right for me to go back on duty?”
The head physician smiled humorlessly at me, but she obliged me with a quick examination, long fingers testing the air above me as she traced the meridians to check for any lasting damage. She followed that by poking and prodding my body with quick, impersonal touches. “You recovered awfully quickly,” she said. My heart seized up, thinking she might have detected my use of fox magic, but she didn’t seem to be suspicious—yet. “You’re cleared to go.”
Behind me, I heard the corporal say, “Must be nice to be so young and eager to go back to work.”
“I could swear you broke that leg on purpose,” the doctor retorted. “Do you like it here that much?”
“No better place for a nap,” she was saying as I left them behind. I was starting to understand the physician’s irritation.
I guessed that I was supposed to report in to Lieutenant Ju-Won. Would the head physician tell Ju-Won to expect me? Or would the doctor, trusting that I’d go where I was supposed to, send the report later, after she’d dealt with the rest of the casualties? I gambled that she wouldn’t prioritize telling the lieutenant about a single cadet—me—when she had a lot of other patients on her mind.
“Jang,” I whispered into the air, “can you come with me and keep a lookout? We might learn something from the prisoners in the brig.”
He didn’t materialize or speak, but a cold breeze touched my cheek, as if in agreement.
Emboldened, I walked quickly toward the brig. I only slowed when I felt the chill of Jang’s presence again, cutting bone-deep this time. That was all the warning I needed.
I emerged into the corridor just as two soldiers marched by—a man and a woman. They scarcely gave me a glance. I was going to need their help to get into the brig. I focused my Charm on them and flashed a smile at the man.
“Yes?” he said, grinning goofily at me as if I was his new best friend. Which, in a sense, I was.
“I’m supposed to do some toilet-scrubbing in the brig,” I said in a woeful voice, “but I can’t remember the codes to get in there.”
Might as well put all my latrine-duty experience to good use, I thought.
My magic was more wobbly than I’d reckoned on, though, because I still wasn’t feeling well. “Why would they schedule someone to do chores in the middle of an interrogation?” the other soldier demanded.
Yikes. I invented an emergency and directed more magic at her, even though my head ached. “There was a problem with the plumbing,” I said, “and the interrogators were pretty upset about it.” I lifted my hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Look, I’m just a cadet. They don’t tell me everything.”
The nice thing about Charm was that I didn’t need to come up with a great excuse, just one good enough to give the magic something to fix on. A small voice in my head suggested that I stop relying on my magic to solve problems for me, because at some point all of this was going to catch up to me in a bad way. But I didn’t see any alternative right then.
The two soldiers exchanged glances. I held my breath and tried to act unhappy about the mythical chore, rather than anxious that they would catch me lying. Then the woman said, “It’s four-four-one-two. Better you than me, Cadet.”
“Thank you,” I said, and continued to the elevator. Since no one was in there with me, I sagged in relief. Jun, I reminded myself. You’re doing this for Jun, and Jang.
But I hadn’t seen Jun in nearly two years, and Jang was already dead, and in the meantime I was becoming less and less certain of what I was doing.
The elevator chimed, prompting me to exit on the appropriate deck. I squared my shoulders and walked to the door, then punched in the code. The world swam before me as the door opened. I heard voices yelling: the interrogators.
Jang’s ghost-wind swirled against me, a warning to be cautious.
In the holos I’d watched, starship brigs were full of dramatic shadows where the villains crouched with their eyes gleaming threateningly. Sometimes on the cell walls you could catch a glimpse of scratched graffiti, which offered clues to what would happen next. Often patches of fungus grew on the deck.
Here, however, bright light sliced out of the doorway. I slipped through, drawn to the voices. Their words sounded muffled at first. As I tiptoed closer, I heard them more clearly, and I froze.
“Pox spirits.”