by Ruby Dixon
"All right. I'll remember." I move over to Sleipnir and rub his favorite spot behind his ears. "Do you think he'll be okay? Or is it going to be scary for him?"
"I honestly don't know. This is the first time we've transported anything other than people, but I'd say just keep him with you and keep him occupied."
I nod. "I can do that." The flight isn't going to be great, because the Jabberwock is a lovely ship, but it's not made for a carinoux. The biggest place to move around is the cargo bay, but he can't be left unsupervised because of his ability to chew anything and everything. My task during this journey is going to be keeping a close eye on my buddy…which I don't really mind. It's either that or cage him—which I don't like—or put him in stasis. "Is there anything you need from me?"
Fran shakes her head, and then pauses, as if she's just remembered something. "If you talk to Zoey…be gentle. She's a little fragile right now."
"Of course."
Fran bustles toward the door, then snaps her fingers. "And if you come by my quarters after the little one is down for her nap, I want you to go through my old clothes. My hips are a little bigger than they used to be thanks to the baby, and I have some stuff that might fit you."
I try to bite back a smile. The Jabberwock is still in the asteroid belt, maneuvering slowly out of the dangerous orbit of the rocks, and our journey has barely started. Meanwhile, Fran's been doing her best to mother me and be a good hostess. She's showed me all over the ship, got fresh bedding, talked about the noodle supply they're carrying just for Jerrok's particular tastes, asked if the temperature of the quarters agreed with me, offered up scrap for Sleipnir, and basically has fussed over us constantly.
It's very sweet. It's been a long time since I've had anyone fuss over me in a sisterly-slash-motherly way and it makes me want to cry, just a little, because it's so nice. I'm trying not to weep like a baby every time someone is kind to me, though, so I manage a wobbly smile and hug Sleipnir. "Sounds good."
Fran nods at me, heading into the hall. She pauses, and I think for a moment she's going to offer something else—blankets for Sleipnir, perhaps, or to make me a snack. "If you want Jerrok, he's in the armory with Alyvos."
"Thank you. I'm good."
She finally leaves and I'm alone with Sleipnir. I scratch absently at his ears, thinking about Jerrok. He's been tied up with the guys ever since we left. I'd packed a small bag of my things, mostly just a change of clothes or two and my books, and I thought Jerrok would do the same. To my surprise, Jerrok had wheeled out an entire crate full of weaponry and a lockbox that he said was full of credits. I'm still more than a little stunned at the realization that Jerrok had so much money squirreled away. Maybe it's less than it looked like…but it looked like quite a bit. It makes me wonder what he was saving up for.
Kind of ironic that my lover shows up with an absolute shit ton of guns and the only thing I'm concerned about is a box of money. It's just…his prosthetics are so troublesome. Why would he hoard money instead of getting better limbs? It doesn't make sense to me. The guns I understand. How many times have I pulled random things out of engine compartments or ventilation shafts as I helped him out? I've seen food wrappers, noodle containers, a desiccated orange finger, empty weapon cartridges, and there was the one clump of used plas-film that still makes me shudder. It reminds me of driving around in a friend's car when I was a teenager and seeing the random stuff in the glove box. People shove things in their vehicles and forget about them. If humans do it, I imagine aliens do, too. I can only imagine what Jerrok has acquired over the years.
But that makes the money thing all the more confusing. Why save when it can be put to use?
And…he's brought it out now, to help the rescue efforts for the va Sithai brothers, who Zoey is convinced are not dead. Was he saving up for limbs and now he's going to be resentful of having to give his savings over? Or was he saving for something else?
So many questions, and no answers. Jerrok will be back later. I'll bring it up then.
I scratch at Sleipnir's ears, and when he lolls on the bed, I decide maybe I will, too. I pull out my books…and then pause. Outlander's on top, and the sight of the old clock on the cover gives me an idea. I caress the book absently. Reading it has always been a comfort to me, a way to escape into another world. At this point, though, I have it half-memorized, and I can think of someone else that could use a good distraction.
Zoey.
"Come on, Sleipnir," I tell the carinoux, patting his flank. "Let's go take a walk, you and I."
The big creature groans and rolls over on the bed, exposing his long belly. His many legs are flippity-flopping like the laziest of cats, and he's so cute I can hardly stand it.
I poke one of his toe-beans. "Walkies and then snacks, hmm?"
The carinoux immediately jumps up from the bed and begins to rub against my legs, nearly knocking me over.
I laugh, rubbing his head. "Yeah, you know the word 'snacks' at this point, don't you? Well, come on." I tuck the book under my arm and open the door to the room again, peering out in the hall of the Jabberwock. It has that “ship” smell to it, of recycled air and fuel, but there's also a faint undertone of something herbal and pleasant, as if Fran's trying to cover the ship's functional stink. I head down the hall with the carinoux at my heels, pausing when he sniffs at metal wall panels (and shoving his head away when he gets a bit too lick-y). It'll be good for both of us to take a walk, however meandering.
The Jabberwock's metal halls are bigger than I anticipated, with metal grating above and below, and wiring and pipes of all kinds tucked behind the grates. I don't know a lot about ships—other than how to dismantle them—but it seems pretty nice. I guess. I can't help but compare the austere surroundings to every sci-fi movie I watched as a kid. They hold up surprisingly well, because this hall looks like something that could have come out of Star Trek…or Aliens. This particular hall is crew quarters, with lots of doors spaced a fair distance apart. There's the sound of muffled voices and a metal stairwell leading belowdecks. I try to recall what Fran said was on the second floor. A rec room, a training room…oh, and the armory. Right.
A door hisses open down the hall, and Sentorr steps out. The carinoux at my side automatically growls, moving in front of my legs protectively.
"It's okay, buddy," I tell him softly. "Sentorr's a friend."
The elegant-looking mesakkah pauses at the sight of us, his hands clasped behind his back. He looks very…proper, especially compared to the rest of the crew. I think of Tarekh and Cat, who seem to constantly be covered in engine grease of some kind, arguing over the best way to prepare a breakfast noodle at the top of their lungs. I think of Kivian, who never met something shiny he didn't like, or Fran, who just likes to be in everyone's business. Iris and Alyvos seem to do their own thing, but Sentorr is like…well, he's like the disapproving hall monitor back in school.
It's unfair to think of him like that, because Zoey clearly loves him and she's not nearly as stuffy as he is.
"Hi," I say brightly. "I was taking Sleipnir for a walk and thought I'd say hi to Zoey. See if she needed some company." When Sleipnir pushes against my legs again, I tap his hindquarters. "Sit. Behave."
If cat-lizards could grumble, this one would. He reluctantly sits, though, and I'm pretty sure he's glaring at Sentorr.
The alien man studies both of us for a moment and then gives a crisp nod. "I asked her to take some time off. Relax. Company might be welcome." He hesitates, then seems to rethink it. "I'll be back shortly to check on her."
I smile and move past him in the hall, tapping my leg so Sleipnir knows to stay at my side. I'm pretty sure Sleipnir gives the littlest, sulkiest growl as Sentorr moves past, but other than that, he behaves very well. The door that Sentorr emerged from has a lot of alien writing on it, but I can't read any of it. I knock instead. "Zoey? It's Sophie."
The door opens and Zoey looks out at me. She seems worse by the hour, her uniform disheveled and her hair fa
lling out of her ponytail. Her eyes are red-rimmed and she looks exhausted. "Hey. You doing okay?" She rubs a hand over her face. "How's the carinoux settling in?"
"He's fine. I should ask how you're doing."
She gives me a weak smile. "Checked comm bands all night looking for mentions of my brothers, or three mesakkah prisoners picked up…nothing. Sentorr wants me to sleep, but…" She shrugs. "I can't sleep. My mind won't shut off."
"I brought you something," I say. "It's…not much. I've probably read it dozens of times at this point, but it helps distract me when I need a distraction." I hold the worn, thick paperback out to her. It's hard to part with it when I have so little, but it also feels like the right thing to do.
Her eyes open wide in surprise. "You sure you want to do this? I know how rare books are out here." Her hand skims over the cover affectionately. "I think Fran mentioned this once. I've never read it."
"It's very romantic," I tell her enthusiastically. "The hero is just…perfect. And there's Scots. And kilts. And really great love scenes."
Zoey smiles, gesturing at the quarters she shares with her mate. "You want to come in and sit? I could use a distraction."
"I don't want to be a bother—"
She rolls her eyes and grabs my arm, hauling me into the room. "You're not a bother. You're my sister."
68
JERROK
It's a long keffing day.
Everyone on the Jabberwock is nice, of course. Our quarters are cozy, even if we have to share with the carinoux. Sentorr pilots us smoothly out of the asteroid belt without so much as a jostle, and Alyvos and Tarekh talk weapons with me for most of the day, appreciative of the cache of blasters and pulse grenades I've brought with me. There's a big bowl of hot noodles for meals, and…it's pleasant.
Still worries me, of course.
It's not the brothers. Or the fact that I'm away from my station. I expected that going in, and I'm prepared to be surrounded by people for the next while, even if it isn't my favorite. The crew here aren't so bad, and there's plenty of room on board the ship to spread out. We're going to be “sliding” through shipping lanes at high speed for the next week, so there won't be much to do except wait for the next refueling…unless we get information on the va Sithai of course. Something tells me that we won't.
Mealtime is pleasant. There's even a few games of sticks in the rec room after dinner, and Sophie seems to want to watch, so I sit on one of the overstuffed couches that are near-impossible for a stiff half-cyborg to get out of easily. And I watch my female as she laughs and watches, bright-eyed, as Cat and Tarekh argue over sticks, the carinoux lounging at her feet. She tries to pull in Zoey, but the other female is content just to watch, and eventually leaves to go join her mate on the bridge.
When Fran and Kivian leave for the night with their child, I see Sophie yawning and decide it's a good time for us to escape, too. I make a fool of myself trying to get out of the couch, and when I finally do, my limbs start acting up. They sizzle and send noisy feedback through my body, and when we get into our room, she settles Sleipnir in the corner with something to chew on, and then attends to me.
"Let me help," Sophie protests when I try to push her hands away irritably.
"I'm not an invalid."
"I know you're not. But I can help, and I want to." She ignores my efforts to push her away and runs her soothing hands over the worst circuits, which she knows by heart at this point. She hums to herself and takes care of me, and I'm an ass because she really does help. She can reach places that I can't, and her lighter touch and smaller fingers do the trick more often than not.
"Thanks," I mutter when the last circuit stops its irritating jumping.
"Why are you in a bad mood?" she asks, sliding her arms around my neck and moving to sit in my lap. "Is something bothering you?"
Here I was, thinking I was hiding my foul mood a little better than I am. How to explain to her that being on the Jabberwock terrifies me? Because I see her laughing and talking with the others, and how easily she fits in. I see her whispering with Zoey. I see her spending time with Fran and even now she's wearing a new tunic that she got from one of the other women. I see all this…and I'm not jealous. I'm worried that she's going to realize that she wants to be around people, and that staying with me on my lonely station is a bad idea. That being around a fun, boisterous group like the Jabberwock's crew is going to remind her that she could see the universe with the va Sithai, and that she wants to do more than just hole up with a broken old soldier.
But I don't say any of these things, because I don't want her to feel pressured to stay with me. I want her to stay because she wants to stay. So I bury my face against her neck, breathing in her lovely scent. "Tell me about your day. How was your first one on the Jabberwock?"
She hums for a moment, thinking, and then sighs. "Tiring."
That surprises me. "Tiring?"
Sophie nods, and when I lift my head, she settles hers on my shoulder. "I'm trying to be open and friendly because they're all trying so hard. Zoey's in a bad place and so I'm doing my best to keep her company. I feel obligated to help out in that respect, you know? I don't know how to pilot a ship, but I can be company, at least. It's just…tiring." She curls a finger in the front of my tunic. "Makes me wish we were back home, and then I feel like a jerk for thinking that because we're supposed to be rescuing Zoey's brothers. This isn't about fun. It's about getting them home safe. And yet…" she smiles faintly. "And yet I just want to run away and hide."
I rub her back. All of this surprises me. "You looked like you were having fun today? Every time I turned around, someone else was stealing your attention from me."
She lets out a little groan. "I know. There were so many times I wanted to crawl back to our rooms and just hide. Everyone's so nice but…it's a lot." She burrows against my chest, rubbing her cheek against the join of my prosthetic arm to my shoulder. "I like being alone with you."
"I thought you might like it here…more. That you'd prefer to be with a crew than alone with me," I confess. "Living in an abandoned station isn't the height of luxury."
"But it's ours," she says softly. "Or at least…it's yours. It's quiet and peaceful and we can just be ourselves."
Maybe we're more alike than I thought. I smile and wrap my arms around her. "Well, I won't bother you tonight, then. You need your sleep."
"Bother me?" She sits up, studying my face. "Do you mean sex?"
My ears get hot. "Not if you're tired—"
"First of all, Jerrok un'Rok, I'm not that tired. And second of all, sex with you is never a bother. Not ever. It's a joy." Her hand slides down to my cock. "But is it going to bother you if Sleipnir is in the room with us?"
I nip at her lower lip, unable to resist. "Is he looking our way?"
She glances over at the corner of the room, where the carinoux is sloppily and noisily mauling an old wrench. "Nope."
"Then I think we're good." I run a hand down her side, cupping her ass. "If you're good, that is."
Her eyes gleam with promise. "I am…but I should probably be on top."
69
SOPHIE
It's funny how time seems to crawl on the Jabberwock, while it flies past on Jerrok's station. Theoretically both are in space, but the difference is like night and day. It feels as if we're never, ever going to get to the Slatra system, even though Zoey assures me we're on track.
Not that I'd ever let her know how antsy I am. It's just that she hovers over the navigation like a woman obsessed. She's not sleeping much, barely eating, and I know Sentorr is worried. Zoey's response is always the same: "They'd fight tooth and nail to get me back, so I'm going to do the same for them."
Hard to argue with that logic.
The constant “sliding” is a little odd. You get used to catching your dinner bowl as it glides toward the edge of the flat table. You get used to feeling as if you're in a Tilt-A-Whirl when you close your eyes. And it definitely makes sex interesting. Last n
ight, Jerrok paused inside me, and “slid” against my sensitive parts until I came. It was a rather…unique experience that I'm eager to repeat, but then again, all sex with Jerrok is great sex.
I just worry that the sliding is hard on my guy. As the unofficial circuit wrangler, I can't help but notice that his limbs are bothering him more and more. His wires jump more often, the feedback more intense when it does. Yesterday he had an awful headache that took hours to fade, even with a trip to med-bay. You don't have to be a genius with cybernetics to figure out that the sliding takes a toll on those with electrical parts. I noticed Iris wearing a ribbon over her eyes instead of a visor several times over the last few days. It's something similar, I suspect. I hate to see Jerrok in pain, and my new goal is to figure out a way to help him while we're stuck traveling.
One day when it's quiet, I seek out Alyvos.
No one's said specifically that he was in the same war that Jerrok was in. But Iris has mentioned that Alyvos has nightmares from time to time, and he looks to be about the same age as Jerrok. He's got a limp that's more pronounced as the sliding continues, day after day, and so I suspect he's got a fake limb himself. If he does, his are better than Jerrok's, because I can't tell there's anything prosthetic with him, whereas with Jerrok, there's no hiding it. There's scarring all around his mismatched eyes, my Jerrok, and the limbs he has are covered in “skin” that doesn't quite match his skin tone, and there's massive scarring where they're connected to his tissue. They work like normal limbs, but they're also a little heavier, a little bulkier, like no one cared enough to match the limbs up with his body.