“What he brought onto the ship with him. Some toiletries and sundries.”
“He might want to shave once he regains consciousness,” Marce added.
The technician took the rucksack, nodded to the two of them, and then walked out of the shuttle.
“Let’s button this thing up and get the fuck out of here,” Kiva said.
“Agreed,” Marce said. Kiva pounded on the door of the pilot compartment to signal the transfer had been made.
“Were you nervous?” Marce asked Kiva, as the shuttle headed back to the Yes, Sir.
“About what?”
“About the transfer. About them checking Chat’s body for my genetics.”
“No,” Kiva said. “The thumb pad and the contacts we made from your scrapings are the same quality as we get for our fake identities. Our medical facilities are top notch like that.”
Marce nodded and then winced a little bit, remembering the corneal scraping he endured to get the seed material for the contacts overlaid onto Chat’s eyes. The contacts were fast-grown, as was the thumb pad, which ran the risk of genetic anomalies that would give them away. They got lucky. “I was thinking of the blood draw.”
Kiva shrugged. “It was your blood. Sucked it out of you, clipped off the major vessels in his arms, drained that blood, put yours in. It’s not complicated.”
“I didn’t know if the shunts would hold.”
“They’ll dissolve soon and his normal blood flow will come back. If he’s lucky his muscles won’t be necrotic and he’ll be able to keep his arms.”
“And if he’s not lucky?”
“If he’s not lucky, then fuck him, he tried to put a bomb in my ship.”
“And kill me,” Marce reminded her.
“Right,” Kiva said.
“What if it hadn’t worked?”
“You mean, what if they figured out that was Chat on the gurney while we were still there?”
“Yes.”
“I had a backup plan.”
“What? Run?”
“No. I’d give them you.”
“What?” Marce looked at Kiva, shocked.
Kiva looked back. “Don’t look at me like that. Why do you think I had you go? Because I like your company?”
“I thought I was one of your people now.”
“Yeah, but you’re new,” Kiva said. “And there were a whole lot of other people to think about.”
Marce didn’t say anything else to Kiva for the short remainder of the journey.
As they exited the shuttle on the Yes, Sir and the ship accelerated away from the Red Rose, Marce received a ping on his tablet: a forwarded message from Vrenna.
Tracked down that thing you asked. Sjo Tinnuin heard the rumor from a friend who works for the House of Nohamapetan. Says the Nohamapetans have been paying for navigational data from ships for the last couple of years.
It sounds like maybe they’re seeing some of the same things we see. I don’t know what that means for us, but I don’t think it means anything good.
Be careful out there. Miss you already.
—V
Kiva tapped Marce on the shoulder. He looked up from his tablet. “Come with me,” she said.
“I’m tired,” Marce said, putting his tablet away.
“Do you honestly think you’re going to sleep until we’re in the Flow and these pirates are well fucking behind us? Come on.” She walked out of the shuttle bay. Marce stared after her and followed.
Presently they came to Kiva’s cabin. Marce entered and was immediately jealous. “You have a room the size of a room,” he said to Kiva, who had entered the room behind him. He stared at the immense expanse of the wall in front of him, which featured schedules, notes, and personal photos.
“Of course I do,” Kiva said. “My family owns the ship. I’m the owner’s representative. You think they’re going to put me in a fucking bunk?”
“No, I suppose not. It’s just funny.”
“It’s not that funny.”
“Says the woman who doesn’t sleep in a bunk the size of a coffin.”
“Well, you won’t be sleeping there tonight, anyway.”
“What?” Marce turned and Kiva was entirely undressed.
“Let’s get laid,” she said, to Marce.
“Uh, okay,” Marce said, and then paused. “No, hold on. I’m confused.”
“You’ve had sex before, yes?” Marce nodded. “With women?” He nodded again. “And you liked it.”
“Yes—”
“Then what’s to be confused about?” she asked, coming up to him.
“I don’t think you actually like me,” Marce said.
“I like you just fine.” She grabbed his waistband, and worked the uniform tab there.
“You were willing to give me up to the pirates if you had to. Ten minutes ago.”
“Yes. And?”
“You tell me to shut the fuck up nearly every time we talk.”
“I tell everyone that.”
“I mean—”
“Look, we’ve both had a stressful day,” Kiva said, and pulled down his uniform trousers. “Now, you could stand around trying to talk to me about all the things that didn’t happen, in which case I toss your ass out and you go back to your tiny bunk and smell your own farts until you fall asleep, or you can shut the fuck up, get naked with me, and then we bang each other until we collapse from exhaustion. It’s your choice, but if I were you I know what I would rather do. So, are we going to fuck or what?”
“This is your idea of romance, isn’t it?” Marce asked Kiva.
“Basically,” Kiva said, and then dragged him onto the bed.
A few hours later, as Marce dozed with Kiva nestled up against him, a long mellow ping reverberated throughout the ship.
“Hmmmm,” Kiva said and opened up her eyes.
“What was that?” Marce asked.
“It’s the signal that we’ve entered the Flow.”
“So we’re safe.”
“Nothing is safe in the Flow. If our bubble collapses, we cease to exist.”
“I mean we don’t have to worry about pirates or Ghreni Nohamapetan,” Marce said. He was aware of Kiva’s body next to his and felt an erection pop up almost instantly.
Kiva felt it too and shifted her body on top of his, reached down to position Marce where she wanted him, and then pushed herself onto him. “No, you don’t have to worry about pirates, or the fucking Nohamapetans,” she said, working herself on him. “You might have to worry about me, though.”
Marce smiled at this. “If this is what I have to worry about, I think I can handle it.”
“This isn’t what you have to worry about.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about whatever it is that Ghreni Nohamapetan was fucking willing to kill you over, Marce.”
“Wait,” Marce said. “Are we having an actual conversation? Now?” He started to prop himself up.
Kiva pushed him back down. “Yes, we’re having an actual conversation right now,” she said, increasing her pace. “I can fucking do both. Here’s the thing. You’re going to tell me whatever it is you’re not telling me. You’re going to tell me why you’re on the ship. You’re going to tell me why you’re going to Hub. You’re going to tell me why Ghreni Nohamapetan wants you dead. You’re going to tell me, or I’m going to rip out your fucking heart.”
“When did you want me to tell you?” Marce asked.
“Give me just a minute,” Kiva said.
INTERLUDE