by Ruby Dixon
No one's ever been that happy to see me.
I race toward the terrarium…and skid on wet floors. Sophie's there on hands and knees, washing the tile flooring of the terrarium. All of the leaves have been scraped off of the paths and into a neat pile, and some of the overgrown vines have been trimmed back or teased onto the trellises. The tiles gleam, freshly washed and still wet, and everything smells clean. Off to one side, the carinoux digs in one of the plant beds, making a brand new mess.
Sophie sits up as I slide into the room, her eyes widening in alarm. "Jerrok!"
I grab onto one of the trellises before I can fall on my ass and make a fool of myself. My tail lashes as I right myself. "What the kef are you doing?"
She blinks at me in surprise, tossing the wet rag into a beaten-up metal bucket full of water. "Cleaning up after Sleipnir. I told you I would." She gestures at the tile floors. "And these are so pretty it seemed a shame to let them stay dirty. This whole station could use a good cleaning, actually—"
"It's my station," I say, the words grouchier than I mean for them to be. "If I want it to be filthy, then it will be."
She just arches an eyebrow at me. "Really?"
"Really."
"So even if I'm totally bored, I can't clean up?" She gestures at the terrarium. "Even if Sleipnir made a mess while we were gone? Because you were mad over that the other day. So which is it? Do you want me to clean up after him or not?"
I clench my jaw, trying to think of an answer. Here I was, worried she was scared, and instead, she's acting like…like…like this place is her responsibility.
"Noodles are ready," I snap at her, and turn on my heel and storm out of the terrarium.
27
JERROK
If animals could give people dirty looks, the carinoux would be giving me one right now. Sophie eats her noodles quietly at the small table I've set up in my work area, and the creature hovers at her side, eyeing me. I'm reminded that I need to keep my tone pleasant around it, and not to reach for her or else it'll chew on my arm again. To keep busy, I pull out a disruptor shield component and a pair of tiny pliers, trying to pry out the expensive, delicate jewel-shaped heat conductors that can be re-sold. I glance over at her as I work, watching as she eats with a calm expression on her face.
"I'm sorry if I upset you," Sophie says after a few minutes of silence. "If you don't want me to clean up on the station, I won't clean up. It's just…I like having a nice place to live. I like seeing things restored to their original beauty. The terrarium is pleasant, but I thought cleaning up a little might make it more so." She offers me a timid half smile. "I'm sorry if I overstepped."
Now she's apologizing to me, and I'm the one that feels as if I messed up. I scowl down at the pliers in my hand, because I can't grip them as well as I want to. My fingers are too big and clumsy to work on the stupid component. I toss it down on the table, along with the pliers. "If you want to be helpful, pry out those shiny bits for me."
She pushes aside her half-eaten food and takes the component eagerly, giving me a shy smile as she does. "Sure."
I watch her work for a few moments, and her small fingers are quick and nimble, and she's able to pry up the small bits faster than I ever could, without needing extra guidance. She's smart, this human. I cross my arms and watch her tackle the project, trying to stay irritated at her, but it's growing more difficult by the second. She's just so…eager to please. "I don't know why you're bothering with cleaning the station," I tell her. "You don't even like it here."
Her pink tongue pokes out between her teeth as she pries up a tricky bit, and then disappears back into her mouth. She sets the conductor chip on the table and glances up at me. "I do like it here, actually."
I frown. "You…do?"
She nods, concentrating in her work. "It's a little run-down, sure, but it's cozy and tucked away from everything. You're hidden. No one bothers you. I really like that." Her tone takes on a wistful quality. "It feels safe here."
Her answer surprises me. Most of my scrap clients gripe about how remote I am, how unconnected, how inhospitable. They don't realize that's part of the charm of this location. "I like it for the same reasons," I admit. "I like being left alone."
"So what's in the rest of the station?" she asks. "Is it all wrecked or are there usable rooms?"
I shrug. I've never thought much about it. I have enough space for my needs and haven't considered expanding beyond that. "Some of the halls and rooms need more fixing than it's worth bothering with, but there's more livable space, I guess. A lot of the rooms are just filled with trash. Stuff left behind, or old scrap that has no value and no place to put it."
Sophie glances up at me, and our eyes meet again. It makes me feel uncomfortably aware of how close she is…but I also like it. "Why do you keep that stuff, then?"
"What do you mean?"
She gestures at our surroundings with the pliers. "Just toss it all into space."
I can feel my mouth curve in a wry smile. "And hit it all when I pilot the shuttle?"
Her pink-brown mouth falls open. "Oh." Her cheeks flush, and then she giggles, the sound embarrassed. "I'm such a dumbass."
"You are not. You have just not grown up in space like I have. All the junk—trash or otherwise—must go somewhere. There are trash haulers, but they can't come here because it's a hidden location. Plus, asteroids." I shrug. "I could haul a load out to the nearest garbage ship for a pick-up…I just haven't. Hasn't been a need to." She toys with the pliers, not looking at me, and I continue. "It was not a stupid question, Sophie."
Her smile is shy. "Trash haulers, huh?"
I nod. "They have routes on the major shipping lanes, yes." Why are we talking about trash of all things? But for some reason, it's an enjoyable conversation. Maybe because it's with her. Everything with Sophie feels…better.
Kef me. Why am I even thinking like that?
"Well, if the trash is there for a reason, I guess I won't try cleaning anything else up. It's just…a tidy place makes me happy, you know?" She shrugs, such a fluid, delicate gesture that I memorize it so I can jerk off to it later like the sick male I am.
"You can clean up. I don't mind." Sleipnir's head jerks up and I try to gentle my voice. I guess that came out gruffer than I imagined. "I'll show you around tomorrow morning. What's safe to muck around in and what's not."
"You really don't mind?"
I really don't, I want to say. How have I gone so quickly from hating that she was dumped on my doorstep to craving her presence? "It's fine."
Her expression brightens. "Well, it'll give me something to do other than read my book for the billionth time in a row."
"That many, huh?"
Sophie chuckles. "Maybe just eighteen. But I've memorized entire passages at this point and it's getting a little tiring. I like staying busy." She bites her lip, her white teeth stark against that fascinating mouth. "Do you…do you think they're coming back for me?"
I can't seem to stop staring at her mouth. It's ever so slightly wet, from where she bit the plumpest part of her lip. I think of all the filthy things I've heard about humans, how they like to put their mouths on each other without plas-film barriers for hygiene. How they're addicted to sex, how they'll just lick anything you put in front of them. All of that's clearly not true, but Sophie's mouth makes me wonder if she'd put her mouth on me…someday…
"Jerrok?"
I jerk backward, nearly knocking over my stool in my haste. "What?"
Sleipnir growls, and Sophie puts a hand on his head. "The va Sithai brothers? You think they'll come back for me?" Her expression grows a little melancholy. "I know I'm not very important in the scheme of things, but I like to hope that they're somewhat reliable, for all that they're pirates." She bites her lip again. "Do they keep their promises? I guess that's what I'm asking."
I grunt to hide my embarrassment at being caught in a trance while staring at her keffing mouth. "I think they'll come back for that beast." I gesture
at her pet.
"Oh. I guess you're right." For some reason, my answer doesn't make her happy. If anything, she seems sadder than ever before. "He's valuable to anyone, I suppose."
Her sadness tears at me. I feel responsible, as if I'm the reason her smile has dimmed. I don't like it, just like I don't like it when Sophie's scared. She should be smiling and happy all the time, full of bright laughter. Sophie's laughter is such a joyous thing.
The need to fix this tears at me. I need a distraction. Any kind of distraction. "Did you want to learn to fly the shuttle?"
Sophie gasps with delight, her expression pure pleasure, and I feel that gasp straight in my groin. "Oh, Jerrok," she breathes. "You'd teach me? Really?"
"As long as you promise to warn me when you're cleaning the floors." It comes out awkward and stilted instead of confident and teasing as I'd hoped.
She chuckles. "I just get so bored. My mom was a housekeeper back on Earth. When she got restless, she'd clean things. I guess I picked up the habit."
"If you're that bored, you can help me scrap some of the bigger wrecks," I find myself saying. "You can pull out all the parts I can't quite get to." It's an excuse to spend time with her, but I might as well go all in at this point. Get myself enough fodder for my fantasies so that even after Sophie leaves with Adiron and his brothers, I'll have enough memories to keep my mind occupied for years to come. I know that tonight, when I lie down in bed, I'm going to be thinking about last night, and how she curled up against me as I stroked her soft, soft hair…
…until my aggravating cousin Bethiah ruined it all by showing up.
Sophie gives me the widest, happiest smile I've seen yet. "I'd love to help you."
My entire body twitches at the sight of that smile. It's like her happiness makes everything in my body react, even the circuits.
How can I refuse? How can I refuse her…anything?
28
SOPHIE
A week passes. Then two. And things are…nice.
There's no word from the va Sithai brothers, and I'm starting to realize that they dumped me on the station because they were planning on being gone for a while. After all, if it was just a few days, they'd have put up with Sleipnir's chewing, right? So it makes sense to think that they're going to be gone for at least a few months, maybe even more. With that realization in my head, I'm not worried at the radio silence coming from the Little Sister. They'll swing around to get me eventually.
For now, I can just enjoy Jerrok's station.
Now that I have things to do, it actually is really enjoyable. I wake up in the morning and put on my oldest, rattiest jumper, and then I have breakfast with Jerrok. We pull wreckage out of one of the storage rooms and get to work on dismantling it, tearing apart all the bits and looking for scrap. A lot of ships and sensitive equipment are made with rare elements—diamonds for heat conductors, iridium and dark matter for the drives. Expensive wiring. All of it can be stripped out of a broken machine and re-sold, and that's how Jerrok makes a living. His hands don't fit in the smaller spots, so I get to wriggle my way in and pull out the choicest bits, and when he gives me a grunt of satisfaction at what I've retrieved, I feel like a scrapping dynamo.
It's fun to tear things apart. Sometimes Jerrok keeps a particular bit of circuitry to repurpose, but for the most part, it's all about destruction…and conversation. I thought we'd be working in silence, but Jerrok talks to me all day long, and I like hearing it. He tells me stories of him growing up on a station, running wild with other “junk rats” and selling whatever bits they collected through the day for their dinners. He tells me about the station he grew up on, Haal Ui Station, and how expansive it was. How his mother had been born there and never left. How he and his cousin Bethiah were left to fend for themselves most days, because no one had time to coddle their children. How there were entire wings full of slums for the workers, how asteroid miners used to show up, filthy and loud, for drinks at the cantina and he and his friends would rob them when they got drunk enough. It sounds miserable, and like Jerrok grew up poorer than poor. No wonder he never had a chance to get better limbs. No wonder his people didn't give a shit if they left him behind in the war.
He never talks about the war. I never ask. There are some parts of the past that it's better to acknowledge and skim past. I know exactly how that is. I want to forget, too.
So when it's my turn to talk, I talk about Earth. I talk about my mom, who worked three jobs to put food on the table, and my dad, who drove a long-haul truck and only occasionally came home, usually just long enough to fight with my mom and leave again. I talk about going to college and dropping out, then trying a variety of jobs, all to varying degrees of success, before…well. Before I left. And when things get too touchy, I talk about stories. I talk about TV shows and I tell Jerrok every story beat of Outlander, which I have memorized by now.
It feels like we've become friends, and I like it. I find myself laughing and smiling every day. Sleipnir likes the station, too. He's a curious sort, and there's always something new for him to stick his nose into and chew on. Jerrok's started to make a habit of stripping down a particular item of all the valuables, only to hand it over to Sleipnir, who carries it off to a corner to chew on.
When my stomach starts to growl, we pause and eat noodles for dinner. There's no vids to watch, no music to listen to, no nothing, so we work a little more after dinner, or I go out to the terrarium and garden for a bit. Jerrok usually follows me, smoking one of those terrible carcinogels or just talking in a low voice about nothing at all.
It's nice. There's always more to do, more to see, more to uncover. The plants need constant tending, and Sleipnir's a fantastic cuddler. I'm trying my hardest not to get too attached to the carinoux, but it's difficult—he's so loving and attentive, and the look of delight on his face when he's given something new to chew on just warms my heart. I know he can't be mine, but sometimes it's nice to pretend.
One morning, though, I wake up and bound out of bed, kissing Sleipnir's broad head and slipping on my boots before heading for Jerrok's quarters. We've been digging out a room adjacent to his work area, and the more that's cleared away, the more I realize the room is full of pretty paneling and a lovely mosaic floor. Once it's clear, I'm going to clean the hell out of it and talk to Jerrok about making it a rec room of some kind. We can drag some seating out of one of the broken-down shuttles floating around the asteroid and make ourselves a comfy little nest. Maybe I can transplant some of the leafier plants into pots and add some greenery. It'll give us somewhere to hang out together. Maybe we can even set up a table and play some games. Jerrok's mentioned offhand a few times that he's pretty good at sticks, and I don't know how to play many card games, but maybe we can figure something out.
The moment I go into Jerrok's work room, though, I realize my plans for the day won't be happening. He's got dark circles under his eyes, and his hair is wild and messy, hanging in his face. He's hunched over a particularly tricky bit of equipment, stripping wires, and barely looks up at me when I come in.
"You look like something the cat dragged in," I tease, my voice playful. "Everything okay?"
He doesn't answer me. Just gives a half shrug of his shoulders and keeps working.
That worries me a little, because I prefer a friendly, open Jerrok to the grunty, surly asshole. I'm starting to learn his moods, though. Usually he's impossible and sometimes downright nasty when he's hurting, or tired. He hasn't had nightmares lately, but it also looks like he hasn't slept. "You want me to make breakfast today?"
"Not hungry."
"Oh." I grab a packet of dry noodles and shrug. I can pick at them while I work. "So what's on the menu for today? Are we going to pull in that big yellow shuttle and tear it apart? Or are you finally going to teach me to fly?" It's a gentle tease between us, him teaching me to fly. We haven't had the opportunity yet, just because of a variety of things, and I like to rib him about it.
But he just pauses and his shoul
ders slump a little. "I'm…not in a good mood today, Sophie. You should probably leave me alone."
It's a sign of our friendship that he's come that far and not snarled at me. Instead, he's quietly telling me to quit bothering him. Strangely enough, it still hurts my feelings. "Oh. Okay, sure. I'll just go work in the terrarium, I guess." I hesitate, clutching the bag of dry noodles. "Is there anything I can do to help? Do you need a massage?"
His jaw clenches. "No. Just need some space."
I flinch at that. Space. It's the one thing we really can't give to each other, living in this end of the station. "Gotcha." I tuck the bag of noodles under my arm and pat my leg so Sleipnir will follow me.
If Jerrok wants space, I'll give it to him. After all, I'm imposing on his territory. Who cares what Sophie wants, right?
29
JERROK
I stare down at the familiar pliers in my hand and wonder if I should just use them to rip off my stupid arm instead of the capacitor in front of me. I've hurt Sophie's feelings. It's obvious in the way that she walks out of the room, her shoulders stiff and proud, and just how silent she is. A happy Sophie is a chatty Sophie. In the last few weeks as we've been getting comfortable with each other, she's been slowly opening up, talking more day after day. She talks about the weather. She talks about the station. She talks about the part she's dissembling, wanting to know what it's for. It's like now that the dam has burst, the solemn-eyed female has been replaced with one of sunshine and light, and it just makes me ache for her all the more.
That's part of the problem.
Being around her, breathing in her scent, seeing her smiles…it's rough on someone as used to loneliness as I am.