‘I can do it,’ Jane said, tugging down her sleeves as nonchalantly as she could. ‘I can absolutely do it.’
‘I don’t have any spare sleeping quarters, and none meant for Humans, anyway,’ she said. ‘You’d have to sleep on the floor in one of the storage compartments.’
‘That’s fine.’
‘I’m headed to Port Coriol. That’s eleven tendays from here.’
Jane relayed that to Laurian. He nodded. ‘That’s also fine,’ she said.
The Harmagian’s eyestalks shifted back and forth. ‘My ship’s the Yo’ton. Docking bay three. We leave at sixteen-half. I won’t wait around.’ She paused. ‘You both look a bit tweaked. Are you modders?’
Jane looked at Laurian, then shook her head. The Harmagian didn’t understand the gesture. ‘No,’ Jane said. ‘At least, I don’t think so.’
‘Mmm,’ the Harmagian said. ‘I think I’ll drop you at the caves anyway.’
SIDRA
How did Blue stay so patient? Sidra had wondered this often. Perhaps it was something in his genes, something his makers had written into his organic code. (Was it less admirable, then, if it was something inbuilt, rather than cultivated by conscious thought and effort? Sidra hoped not.) Whatever the reason, she liked that quality in him. Pepper had been in an excitable mood ever since they’d left Coriol. She ate at odd hours, she slept little, she took apart and reassembled things that didn’t need it. In Pepper’s company, Blue had been his usual self – calm, collected, happy to help. Away from her, though, Sidra had seen the worry in his eyes, the distracted way he stared out the viewscreens. But he never let that bleed into his interactions with his partner, who clearly benefited from the company of someone who wasn’t taking everything apart. Patience. It was a laudable trait, and Sidra had been doing her best to emulate it over the nine days they’d been in transit. Her code was built for patience, too, but their situation was one that bred restlessness. Her situation especially.
She hung out with him and Pepper both as they sat in the cockpit – her chewing on her thumbnail, him sketching on his scrib.
‘Do you hear that?’ Pepper asked.
Blue paused. ‘No.’
Pepper sat forward, listening. She shook her head. ‘I could’ve swore I – there. That little rattle. Hear it?’
Blue strained. ‘No.’ Sidra didn’t hear it, either.
Pepper got to her feet. ‘I’m going to go check the fuel pumps.’
Blue nodded noncommittally. By Sidra’s count, Pepper had checked the fuel pumps four times already. ‘Want any help?’ Blue asked.
‘Nah, keep drawing,’ she said. ‘That’s a much better thing to do.’ She exited the cockpit; Sidra followed.
They didn’t speak, which had been the case since they’d left dock. This wasn’t the plan as Pepper had wanted it, and Sidra understood that, even though the silence was getting unbearable. She counted days, again. A little under two tendays left to Kaathet. Not a long trip, all things considered. They were lucky the shuttle had been found in a museum branch, rather than the main museum on Reskit. Sidra doubted any of this would have fallen into place had it required a standard-long trip.
Tak had come along, and Sidra didn’t know how she’d ever thank her for it. On top of everything else, her poor friend had been spacesick for the better part of the trip. She was in her bunk now, trying her best to sleep through it. Sidra hadn’t spoken to her, either. She knew Tak still wasn’t thrilled about any of this. Sidra was glad, though, for her help. Her coming along was the answer Sidra had been hoping for, the answer to the question Tak hadn’t let her finish at the kitchen table.
Pepper made her way below. She muttered to herself as she went, counting something on her fingertips, speaking too low for Sidra to hear. Sidra wanted to tell her that the fuel pumps were fine, that everything was fine. But that only would’ve made Pepper angry, she knew. Besides, Pepper needed to be doing something. Sidra understood that all too well.