Page 5

5

I gotta be careful. Rian? He’s a distraction. So much so that I almost wonder if that was his intent. He didn’t really ask any of the questions I thought he would; he didn’t even come close. After he leaves, I go over everything he said, everything I said, and the dots don’t connect.

There’s an angle here, but I can’t see it yet.

So, I go to the med bay.

Nandina’s not there when I arrive, but judging from how quickly she pops up, she was close. Or they got some cams watching me when I leave the room. Either’s a possibility.

“Are you feeling ill?” she asks.

“Just came for my stuff.”

Her eyes widen slightly.

“My suit,” I clarify.

“You want your suit?”

“Yes. I’ll keep it in my room.” It’s been enough time on the chargers that the tanks should be full again, but even if they aren’t there are recharger ports in the bunk room.

“I can leave it in the locker; it’s not a problem.”

“I’d rather have it with me.” I purposefully bought a suit that was more mobile than some of the ship-specific suits. Between the thincraft material and the jaxon jets, my suit’s worth almost as much as my ship. Not that I think anyone on the Halifax would pilfer parts.

I just would rather have it with me.

“Of course you can have it,” Nandina says, opening up the med bay door and heading to the storage locker. “But...”

Why. The question she won’t ask. Why am I trying to get a spacesuit in my bunk room.

I wait until she looks at me, and I meet her eyes. “It’s the only thing I own on this ship. It’s the only thing that’s mine.”

Nandina’s face is an open book, sympathy evident all over her features. She nods and passes the suit over to me. It’s awkward in my arms, but it is a comfort to have it. I know I can’t just jump out the porthole window of my bunk room, but at least if this ship is breached like Glory was, I’ll have my suit handy.

“I know it’s a little silly,” I mutter, hefting my LifePack on my shoulders like a backpack.

“No, I get it.” Nandina’s trying hard not to show her emotion, but it’s futile. She can’t help but wear her feelings out in the open. That’s what good people do. “But just so you know, if you need anything, anything at all...I can help you get it. We have lots of supplies on this ship.”

“Thanks.” I offer her a watery smile and turn to go. “Actually...do you have any data recorders I could have?”

Like I said, an open book. Her surprise is as clear as carbonglass.

“I just thought it may be nice to record some of my thoughts. You know...process it all,” I explain.

“Oh, of course!” Nandina reaches for a different storage cabinet. “Absolutely; I should have thought of that myself. I get so used to physical medicine, but emotional therapy is just as important. The Halifax is a job for me, but your ship was your home, wasn’t it?”

I nod, watching as she punches in a key code on the storage locker. Five digits, the last two are zero. On the table beside the locker, there’s a scanner.

“I cannot imagine what that loss is like. Journaling is a great idea, but I want you to know that I’m happy to talk as well. Like I said, both the body and the mind are important for full healing, and I’m here to help.”

She reaches inside and pulls out a data recorder. It’s a little thing, only about the size of my finger, but it’s capable of storing a lot of information. Audio, video, text. I check the side. It’s got an input port, too—if I had the clearance code, I could download every single bit of data on the ship’s computing services into this little recorder. Theoretically.

“Thank you,” I tell her.

“Of course. Also...” She hesitates. “I know Captain Io and First can be a bit...abrupt.”

“Oh, First is very snuggly.”

She smiles. “Just know that they’re fair. They get the job done, and the captain’s very strict, but they are fair. This is a good ship, a good crew.”

“Are you telling me that I can have seconds at every meal? Because that will earn you lifelong loyalty.”

“Absolutely,” she says. “And don’t let the captain bully you into thinking otherwise. Doctor’s orders.”

I give her a mock salute and then lug my stuff back to the room they say is mine. First things first, I check the life-support unit and the jetpack attachment and affix them to a hook near the door. All the tanks have been replenished, everything at max and ready to go. Nice. A full diagnostic proves all is well. Then I spread out my suit on the bed, meticulously going over every seam and line. Everything’s still solid, and the suit should be able to seal correctly. I could toss myself outside again whenever I want to.

As I said, my suit’s custom. When you scavenge alone, you learn that the two most important things to your survival are your suit and your ship. My ship’s been breached. I can’t afford to let my suit be anything less than perfect.

Not if I want my plan to work.

So, I hang it up beside the LifePack and check it one last time. Every seam. Every latch. Every connection.

What’s mine is mine.

There’s a small outer pocket on the chest of the suit, designed to be accessible while on black walks, just big enough for me to fit gloved fingers inside. I wonder if Rian or whoever scanned my suit checked the pockets. My odds are pretty even on that one. On the one hand, there wasn’t much time, and digital scans are quick and noninvasive. On the other, Rian doesn’t seem the type to miss anything.

Doesn’t matter either way. I made sure it was empty before. Now I put the data recorder into my spacesuit’s pocket instead, sealing it inside.

Last to be checked is my helmet. I run a quick analysis; the operational base of the suit is built into the inner shell of the headpiece. In the past two hours, someone’s downloaded all the external communications I’d logged. There aren’t many, I know that. Mostly me cursing and waiting to be rescued, a few logs from when I was recording what I’d found on the planet, data entries as I processed my finds and estimated value and buyers.

We’re too far out to make any meaningful contact with someone in another system. Even if I had sent a message to someone from here, it would still be pinging around the galaxy. Data is slower than the speed of light, unless you have an intergalactic transmitter, and while the Halifax may be rich enough for that, I’m not.

I think about the scanner on the table in the med bay. I’d bet real coin that scanner was used on my suit, checking for any trackers or outgoing signals. Probably Rian.

As if I’d make such a rookie mistake.

I see a flash out of the corner of my eye from the direction of the porthole. Oh, delightful—the crew Captain Ursula sent planetside is heading back up to the ship. I take the time to do one last check before I leave the room. I’m in no rush. It takes a while to dock a shuttle.

I get a little turned around but make it to the dock as the shuttle bay is almost fully repressurized. Both the captain and Rian wait at the bay doors; it’s automatically locked until the pressure and O 2 are back in equilibrium with the rest of the ship. Ursula scowls. Rian smiles. Fifty-fifty, not bad.

“I can’t wait to meet the rest of our crew!” I say, beaming at Ursula.

She almost looks complimented for a moment, then shifts to a glare. “ My crew. Not ours.”

“Not yet ,” I say, undeterred.

The bulkhead door hisses as it opens; the shuttle bay is safe for entry. Inside, the shuttle door also opens, and two suited people step out. I see the way the mirrored face shields turn from the captain to me. Pretty soon, the helmets are off, and both the crew members stare openly at me.

The person closest to me is a large woman with broad shoulders. Her suit’s labeled with her surname—Yadav. I glance over at the other person, male, with a surname of Magnusson. Yadav has brown skin with deep warm undertones, and when she tugs down her skull cap, I see shining dark hair braided in a crown. Magnusson has chin-length blond hair, pale skin, and eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Hi!” I say cheerily. “I’m your new crewmate!”

Magnusson gapes at me.

“Name’s Ada Lamarr,” I offer, sticking out my hand. He looks down at it and then to the captain, as if making sure I’ve not actually proffered a venomous snake.

Yadav removes her gloves and gives me her hand. “My name is Saraswati; do not call me Sara.” Her voice is stern, but her smile is light. I note the way the second syllable of her name goes up a little when she pronounces it.

Magnusson doesn’t offer me either a greeting or another name. “Why is she here?” He’s looking at me but talking to the captain.

I guess he’s not asking how I’m here because he already knows. The whole reason the Halifax delayed responding to my distress signal was they thought I was a sabotage attempt, and they probably rushed to get their crew on the ground first. My eyes flick to Magnusson’s waist. He’s carrying a blaster on his hip. Saraswati is too.

They expected trouble on land.

Good of them to be prepared; no fault in that. If I was paranoid like this crew, I would have assumed the worst. I wouldn’t have waited hours and hours to make the rescue and almost leave the caller to die, but you know. Choices.

“So, how was it?” I ask Saraswati, the nicer of the two. “Did the entire world try to burn you up while also eating you?”

Saraswati snorts a laugh. “Yeah, pretty much.” Her tone shifts a little as she turns to the captain. “Volatile conditions, as expected. But there were...complications. We recorded multiple significant seismic shifts, and the area forward of the wreckage shows—”

“We’ll debrief once you’ve both had a chance to change,” the captain says, cutting her off. “White, will you please escort our...refugee elsewhere.”

“Where?” I ask eagerly, as if I’ve not been dismissed.

“Elsewhere,” the captain growls.

Rian sweeps his hand toward the door, a smirk on his face. “I’m growing on her,” I confide in a loud, carrying whisper. “The captain’s going to hire me on properly any day now, I can tell.”

I think the loud groan I hear behind me as I climb the steps out of the cargo hold is from the shuttle-bay door opening, but it could have been Ursula. Before I go back into the ship proper, I turn and wave. “Lovely to meet you, Saraswati!” I call. Magnusson looks up when Saraswati waves back, so I blow him a kiss that makes him scowl so hard, I’m surprised he can see under that furrowed brow.