‘Pepper’s right,’ Blue said. ‘We can’t lose both of you.’
The kit shook its head. ‘This is ridiculous. I’m not going to just sit here.’
Tak – Tak! – went orange-brown with agreement. ‘I understand why you want to help them, but—’
Sidra was done listening. The kit stood up, took the tray of cake, and went upstairs, ignoring the repeated calls of her name. She kicked her bedroom door shut behind her, savouring the slam. Did they think she was stupid? Of course there were risks. Of course there could be trouble. That was why someone wrote monitoring systems in the first place – to prevent trouble. But no, all she ever did was cause trouble, or be made to stay out of it. She could help this time! She could help, and they wouldn’t let her. Not even Tak would let her. All they wanted from her was to stay behind doors, safe and useless.
The kit took a handful of chocolate cake and stuffed it into its mouth. Her pathways continued to rankle, despite the image that appeared. A warm fireplace, its crackling embers blending in harmony with the rain drumming on the wooden roof.
I’m not going to just sit here, she thought, as the image of fire danced and played. I’m not going to just sit here.
JANE, AGE 19
The station commander eyed Jane from across the table, cheeks swirling purple. This was not the first time Jane had been in her office. This was not the first time she’d been pissed at her.
Counsellor Lukin sat near them, as always, completing the triangle of people who did not want to be talking to each other. Her fake smiles had grown less frequent. That suited Jane just fine.
Commander Hoae stroked the skin around her talkbox, as she did when she was thinking. Jane was kind of annoyed for thinking it, but stars, her species really was pretty. ‘I am trying to understand,’ she said, ‘why you were caught trying to break into cargo hold six.’
Jane crossed her arms. ‘I got caught because I was stupid and didn’t disable the third camera.’
The purple in Commander Hoae’s cheeks grew darker. ‘I meant why you were trying to break in at all.’
Jane flicked her eyes over to Counsellor Lukin, who was rubbing one of her temples. ‘I was looking for my ship.’
‘Jane, I don’t know how many times we have to go over this,’ Counsellor Lukin said. ‘That ship is not here. It was confiscated by legal authorities, and I do not know where it has gone. That is how it works when something is confiscated. You do not know where it is. You do not get it back.’
‘Why did you think it was in cargo hold six?’ the commander asked. ‘It wasn’t in cargo hold two or three, either. As you know from experience.’
Jane shrugged. ‘I haven’t been to cargo hold six yet.’
‘So why—’
‘I just said. I haven’t been to it. She says’ – she pointed at Counsellor Lukin – ‘that my ship’s not there, but I don’t know that. All I know is that she says that. That means nothing to me. What, because she’s got the same face and hands as me, and has the power to take people’s stuff away—’
‘I didn’t have any say in it,’ Counsellor Lukin said, speaking over Jane. ‘This was a Transport Board matter—’
‘—I’m supposed to believe anything that comes out of her mouth?’
‘I am trying to help—’
‘And you, you have all your doors and walls and unauthorised zones. Why? What don’t you want me to see? What’s so fucking important that—’
‘Okay, enough,’ the commander said. She sighed – the first time she’d opened her mouth during the whole conversation. Owl had told Jane to be ready for the way Aeluons talked, but Jane hadn’t been, not really.
Owl had told her. Jane shut her eyes. Don’t worry, she thought, trying to make the words stretch as far as they needed to. I haven’t left you. I haven’t left you. I’m coming. I’m coming and it’s going to be okay.
The commander kept talking, lots of words like behaviour and regulations and for your own safety. Blah fucking blah. Jane didn’t care. She didn’t care about any of this. She’d been on the station for more than sixty days, and they still couldn’t tell her when she’d get to leave. Formwork, Counsellor Lukin said. Processing. Applying for citizenship took time, she said, and there was some dumb unanswered question about whether Jane’s case counted as a standard refugee thing, or if Jane and Laurian should be categorised as clones, which was apparently a whole big complicated thing if so. Oh, and social adjustment. Fucking hell, Lukin was actually making them watch all these dumb vids about what to expect in GC society. As if Jane hadn’t been practising that for years. As if everything Owl taught her didn’t matter.
Owl. Owl Owl Owl.
The room had gone silent, and Jane realised the other two were waiting for her to say something. ‘Uh, I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I won’t do it again.’ She looked back and forth between them. Neither looked any more pleased than they had when the security guard brought her in there. ‘Can I go?’