by S M Wright
The vertigo lifted once she'd been seated for a while, and when it did, she attempted to move. The last thing she needed was to blackout again. She kicked the rest of the covers off her feet and reached for the side console. After hitting the wrong button three times in a row, Katya found the right one: "It is 1000 hours MMT-Sector12." She groaned, brushing her bangs from her face. She'd overslept. Why hadn't Rein attempted to wake her up? Her stomach grumbled.
Katya stood from the bed and stretched. "Ow." She rubbed her back, seeking to sooth the taut muscles. She continued to work out the kinks as she entered her bathroom, where she threw on clothing. Bits of hair had loosened from the braids that looped down to her shoulders before joining the main body of her hair, so she redid them. Years spent doing this same routine had created deft fingers able to do the task rapidly. With the braids tucked back in place, she washed her face, gasping at the water's frigidness. Another failing system, or more likely Rein had shut down unnecessary ones to get the old girl to limp a little farther. Grabbing another cup of water and a damp cloth, she reentered the main room.
"We can't be calling you 'the boy' forever, I suppose." She scooped him up and dripped some water into his mouth. Nothing. He slept on.
Setting the cup aside, she undressed him, finding the clothes less damp than before. She lobbed them onto the floor. From the bag, she removed a spare diaper and the second set of clothes. They were heavier than the ones he'd been wearing, perfect for where they were going. Katya added the hand towel to the pile of dirty laundry.
"Such a sound sleeper." She brushed her finger against his cheek. "Hopefully, that jump didn't hurt you."
His black hair was a mess, tangled every which way like an ill-constructed bird’s nest. She straightened it with her fingers as best as she could. If only they had something better able to accommodate bathing a toddler. They shouldn't be far from Gilga; two days out if not less. She prepared to dress the boy but stopped. There was the diaper. Wrinkling her nose, she grabbed the spare from the bed. She struggled to loosen the one on him. One strap gave, followed by the last. Tears formed as the strong odor struck her. She hastily returned the diaper and retrieved her small trashcan. She'd do it quick—in and out.
Holding her breath, Katya yanked the diaper off and dropped it in the trashcan. As soon as the lid dropped, she scooted the bin away with her foot as far as her leg could stretch without losing balance. She cleaned him, finishing by pouring powder on him. Katya fastened the new diaper as best she could: lopsided and perhaps a bit too tight. Not bad for a first attempt. Besides, he gave no complaints, not even waking when she strung his appendages through their respective pant legs and sleeves.
With all in order, she strode to her small desk, only to find her slate absent.
"Cockpit. I left it in the cockpit." Katya rubbed her forehead. Her stomach growled again. She had wanted to handle their funds issue last night or early this morning, and there was the data gleaned from the Aletheia. But at this stage in the game, it wouldn't hurt to wait until she filled the growing hole in her gut.
"Let's see if we can find something for you, too, and get more fluids in you." Katya carried him to the mess area, which served as both a kitchen and a mess hall, located on the main section of the ship.
As she drew closer to the small rectangular room, the clatter of pots greeted her, leaving her to assume Mina was inside; after all, the sixteen-year-old, bound by habit, lounged about until around 1000 hours when she'd emerge from her quarters. Sure enough, the door moved to reveal Mina hunched over a pot on one of the burners, stirring something. Earbuds dangled from her ears as she focused on her task, unaware she was no longer alone. Katya adjusted the boy in her arms and came to stand next to Mina.
"So, what are we cooking?"
"Katya!" Mina jerked, almost dropping her spoon into the boiling substance. With her free hand, she draped the earbuds over her shoulder. "We were worried about you. Rein tried to page you but got no answer. How are you feeling?" Mina's gaze fell on the Oneiroi child. "He's still sleeping?"
Katya bumped her shoulder against the Oneiroi child's cheek; the jostling failed to elicit any response. "Hasn't woken since the jump. Unless he woke when I was out."
Katya peered into the steaming pot. Apparently, Mina was in a comfort food mood, desiring Reznic bok, which consisted of noodles and a special sauce. It could be prepared with or without meat, and Mina had chosen to add some ground meat. Her stomach bubbled. She could use the protein.
"Scoop me out some," Katya said while scouring through the cabinets. She reached for some powdered milk. It was nutritious and would hydrate him, even if it wasn't exactly filling. Could an Oneiroi stomach it, though? They were mammals so—
"I've been thinking," Mina said between dishing out the bok. "We can't just keep calling him, well, 'the boy.' So let's name him . . . How about Decimus?"
She smiled, similar to a snake having found a clutch of eggs, but managed to bite back any laughter that might have followed. "Decimus as in Lieutenant Decimus Livianus?" Mina's face resembled a beet in hue, and Katya couldn't resist. "He was pretty handsome. A bit young for my taste, but I'll acknowledge he had a remarkable butt."
The teen sputtered and ducked her head. "Th-that's—how about Valens then, after the colonel—" Mina stumbled on her tongue while Bok landed on the countertop, missing the bowl. "I'm sor—"
"All in good fun." Katya set the powered milk on the counter. A good man, a good name, but she couldn't hear it every day, not when the grief had just dulled. It'd been over a year now, or so she'd heard; the disease had sunk its teeth in and devoured its host rather rapidly. The cards had been poorly stacked, nothing more, as Valens had been fond of saying. One accepted that and continued on.
Mina blurted out, "What about Aquila? After candy bar guy."
Another good man who'd left existence far too young. She could still picture his smiling face. He'd had a good heart, far too kind for Reznic. He'd never hesitated stepping into that blast, not when his body could shield the children behind him.
Swallowing, she said, "I think it's a good name. Aquila." She situated the toddler in an empty seat. "A strong name. Very Magistrate."
Keeping her back turned to Mina, Katya mixed the powdered milk and ignored the slight burning of her eyes. Once warmed enough, she removed the milk from the heat, poured it into a glass, and slid in a straw.
While positioning herself at the table, she asked, "What's our progress?"
"We made it to the wormhole. Rein said to go ahead through."
"Good." Katya lifted the newly dubbed Aquila, placing him on her lap. Tapping his cheek with her finger, she received no acknowledgement. Frowning, Katya navigated the straw into his mouth.
"Are you sure that's how you're supposed to feed him?"
She glared at Mina. "I've never cared for a child before, and, yes, you are probably right that this is the wrong—" Aquila coughed up the milk, sputtering to life. His tongue reached out, brushing against his lips before his mouth and face contorted. More milk oozed out.
"I don't think he likes it."
"I can see!" Katya held Aquila away from herself though her clothes were already wet. "Grab a towel!"
Mina raced to retrieve one from the counter. Katya took it and wiped the foamy mess from the toddler's face before resting the towel over her wet shoulder. "Well, you don't like powdered milk. You're a mammal so I'm assuming there's a variety you do like."
"Do you think he might be able to talk?"
"If he can, it won't be basic Magistrate. It'll be whatever language is in that journal." She poked the boy. "What are we goin' to do with you, little one?"
Mina pulled back one of the chairs with her foot while placing two bowls of bok on the table, pushing one of them toward Katya.
"We're about a day out," Mina said. "Maybe they'll have something edible for him there. Though . . ." Mina trailed off, absently spinning her utensil in the bok. "What's our plan? After Gilga."
Ka
tya whistled. "That's the question, isn't it? And I'm not even sure how to answer it." She swallowed some of the bok, relishing its warmth and flavor, a mix of pepper and spice. "One thing's for sure: I won't be writing that recommendation for you." Katya smiled, though it lacked merriment.
Absently, she stirred her bok. Aquila's head rested against her shoulder, his small hands grabbing the fabric of her shirt. Where did they go from here?
Mina's fork clattered against her bowl. "You've done a lot for me, you know? Taught me to fly, operate the different consoles—I can make it as a private-sector pilot, so don't worry about that."
But she'd still worry. "Rein and I will have to keep moving. Once we've unloaded The Maelstrom, we should be able to hit up a bunch of small backwater planets until we get lost in Magistrate paperwork. Beyond that, we're going to be strapped for money, leading to 'a' we haul cargo, 'b' we work as smugglers, or 'c' we take on passengers."
"With the latter two being dangerous."
Katya chuckled. "With the situation we're in, they're all dangerous, but the third option would be insane." She took another bite of the bok, slurping the juice off the spoon. "Money will be the least of our worries. But for now, we just need to bury ourselves." After a few more helpings, Katya set down her spoon. "There'll be more options for you. You weren't on the roster, and the Magistrate troops we hosted didn't come into contact with you. You could disappear a lot easier than Rein or me. Or Aquila for that matter. When we get to Gilga, we could find you another transport."
"No." Mina dropped her utensil, which clattered against her bowl. Aquila swiveled his head toward the noise, more alert than he'd been since leaving the Aletheia, though a sheen of sweat still clung to him. "I only have one person in my corner in the entire galaxy, and that's you. And I'm never"—she placed so much heat on the word—"going back to Reznic."
"No. I wouldn't send you back there. I have numerous brothers and sisters across the galaxy. There's also my father, though he's getting on in years." Katya rested her hand on Mina's. "I'm sure you could find a much safer place with one of them. Take up whatever studies interest you, or continue your pursuit of becoming a—"
"I'm staying."
Katya pressed her lips together but accepted Mina's decision. She wrapped some of the noodles around a fork Mina had passed her way and brought it up to Aquila's mouth. He timidly stuck out his tongue, touching the noodles before retracting it and hiding his face into her shoulder, blocking his mouth.
She sighed. "We definitely need to find something for this kid to eat." Katya brought the fork up to her mouth and ate the noodles before reverting back to her spoon. Aquila tightened his grip on her while drool crept out the corner of his mouth. "We'll find something for you. I promise."
Mina shoveled food into her mouth, muttering something around it. Once her bowl was cleared, she rose and tore through their food supplies.
"Be careful!" Katya called after Mina almost dropped a glass of Dersory cosel, a thick dairy product from a type of buffalo that'd spread across the galaxy. "How's Rein?"
Mina furrowed her brow as she twisted off the glass jar's lid. "Broody. Been barking orders at me like no tomorrow. You'd think I was enlisted. I don't think he's fond of being on the Magistrate's bad side."
"None of us are."
"Though I think he's more upset about our little Elite guest. He keeps talking about him under his breath." She dipped her finger into the cosel and pressed it to Aquila's mouth. He clamped down on it. "He seems to like it, or at least tolerate it."
"It's hardly healthy," Katya muttered while Mina filled a bowl of the sweet gelatinous substance for Aquila. "We'll have to keep an eye on Rein's moods." She tapped the bottom of her bowl with her spoon, slicing a noodle in two. "He was so close to citizenship . . . but I think for now, his self-preservation instincts will overrule his desire to return to the fold." But for how long?
Silence fell between them, allowing Katya to finish her meal while Mina fed Aquila. Both women raised their heads when Rein entered the mess hall.
"You're up," he said, appraising her out of the corner of his eye.
"I'm up," Katya replied. "Sorry to worry you, but yesterday was more taxing than I originally thought. I'll be resting over the next few days and will be back in order soon enough."
Grunting, Rein tilted the pan of bok before grabbing a spoon and eating out of it. "I trust Mina updated you on our status?" he asked between bites.
"Yes. You guys did well while I was out." Aquila's head fell back against Katya as he used her breast for a pillow, his eyes already drifting shut. Again? Her touch, like before, failed to rouse him.
"What are we going to do with him?" Rein dipped into the pan, eating another large portion of the leftover bok. He chewed in a loud manner that made her cringe.
"He stays with us. He has no other place to go. His family's dead, and the Magistrate played some role in it. There's no guarantee how Aquila would be treated if we handed him over." She stood, ignoring the pointed look Rein gave her at the name.
"He has Demos Oneiroi, Katya." Rein set the pan down, clanking it against the stovetop. "I doubt his people would be too pleased knowing he's in the care of off-worlders who know nothing about his needs."
"So we deliver him to Demos Oneiroi, a planet with restricted entry?" Katya asked, her tone shifting into something harder. "Or perhaps you want us to leave him in a lurch on some planet for his people to find? They probably think he died with the rest. It'd be more likely someone far worse would find him. You know all too well what happens to unattended children in the galaxy." Her gut tightened when her thoughts turned to Reznic's trafficking rings.
"I'm just saying we need to consider placing him somewhere that's not with us."
"Enlighten me. How do you propose we do that?"
Rein nudged his head toward Mina. "We could have Mina make the delivery—"
Katya made a spitting noise. "As if they wouldn't question her! A non-Oneiroi with one of their children: It would set off a lot of questions, and it'd quickly lead them to the Aletheia, the only situation where an Oneiroi child could have been compromised." She walked to the door. "Rein, this is our best option for now. Should something viable appear, I'll pursue it. But for now, I'm going to put him to bed and then go to the cockpit and fix our current money problems."
"Katya!"
She faced him.
"Reconsider this," he said, face drawn, ashen. At some point, he'd addressed his wound. "We know nothing for sure. We're just speculating, jumping to conclusions. Maybe if we approach the Magistrate—explained ourselves—there would be no repercussions."
Katya licked her lips and shifted the boy. It was possible, but the Breks had so quickly charged their weapons. Breathing in, she calmed her mind. Her uncle had ties high up in the Magistrate government. How high? Even now as an adult, she was unsure. He'd simply been a looming figure through her childhood with whom her father had had a fractious relationship. The thought of approaching him, the ever-stern man with a limp, stirred up a sinking sensation. She trusted her father's instincts when it came to his own brother.
"Speculation can be worse," Katya said. "They don't want what happened on that ship known—they won't take chances." She pressed her lips together. "We stumbled across a mass grave, Rein. This ship—not just the boy—ties us to it. It's possible the Magistrate might turn a blind eye and accept us back for silence, but I don't see that happening: I see us vanishing. If you want to take the chance, you're welcome to stay on Gilga and approach the Brass."
Rein clenched his fists before exhaling and relaxing them. He shook his head. Katya waited, but after getting no further comment, she left. Behind the door, she heard Mina clearing dishes for the wash. Unease passed through her, lingering and gnawing at her. Distrust for Rein. While normally she was not fond of him, these feelings had a foreignness to them. She glanced down at the boy before striding to her cabin. The sensation would pass once The Maelstrom was behind them.
; Backstories, repeated use of cover names, and Katya moving funds from her not-yet-locked account to a family account, where her money would hopefully go unnoticed, took up the hours prior to their arrival. In between periods of mandated resting, Katya had also browsed the information she'd gathered from the Aletheia's computers. The Breks had introduced a virus to the system, which jumbled the data it had been in the process of deleting. Documents and sequences that had been untainted by it proved mundane. In the end, Katya had deleted it all as a precaution and run her virus scanner. The last thing she needed was for the virus to destroy her slate.
The groundwork laid, Katya joined Mina in the cockpit about two hours out. Katya sat slumped in the pilot's seat, resting her head in her hands. Around her, the gravity in the ship shifted—almost unnoticeably—the closer they came to their destination to match the planet's own. At Gilga's checkpoint, Katya took over the helm from the autopilot, bringing them closer to the planet, a white, blue, and rusty marble. Mostly water, snow, ice, and desolate. Thoughts of impending discomfort from the cold vanished when a Gilga port official barreled by them in a small craft right as they entered the planet's atmosphere.
"Mina, start blinking the lights. They'll understand." Katya switched over to the ACPS system designed for atmospheric flight. "Be prepared for bumps."
Mina beat out a coded pattern, which traveled to the front lights, the meaning simple: communications down.
The port officials then sent their own message: Follow. Officials will board. Katya did as directed. Next to her, Mina leaned forward—her eyes glued to the viewscreen, which was enlarged to show the exterior. They skimmed over the city of Kazeeme. Its buildings were well tended and built to keep out the cold while the actual spaceport, positioned south of the city proper, was dusty, rust-colored, and worn. Katya swore there was not an ounce of green in sight, just metal, dirt, and lines of spaceships, but given the temperature, a balmy twenty-five degrees as shared by the viewscreen, it wasn't surprising. Mina shifted in her seat after their guide blinked for them to land in an open space.