Page 9 of Stolen Fire (N.O.A.H (Nostradamus Outerspace Advancement of Humanity) #2)

Cifer relaxed on his bunk. She would come soon.

After several cycles, he’d figured out that she was trying to be random in her appearances, possibly to catch him doing something he shouldn’t.

But her random visits weren’t so random.

Sometime after Veda brought his first meal of the cycle, Blaize would try to quickly traipse through the cargo hold.

He would always call out to her, make her pause.

The longest he’d had to wait after Veda fed him had been an hour. He was an expert at waiting.

A glimpse of her red hair, so stark against her pale skin and her lush figure, was enough to make the long bouts of boredom tolerable, the echo of her warm voice enough to keep him satisfied until their next meeting.

The sector door slid open, and Cifer hurled himself to the cell door.

“Hello, Beauty.” He leaned against the bars casually, as if his heart wasn’t pounding from being in her presence.

He worried the small metal pieces in his pocket, the one sign of his agitation if she knew to look for it.

No matter how much he tried, he’d never been able to stop fiddling with the parts he found.

Sadly, she didn’t reply, didn’t even turn her head in his direction, but he caught the quick glimpse she spared him with her almost white eyes.

If they’d had black striations, they would have been identical to his mother’s.

Or to the memory of his mother’s eyes. Beautiful and clear, catching every detail with a quick glance.

Blaize’s speed increased until she’d passed through the far door.

She would be working on the mechanical parts of the ship, adjusting here, polishing there.

From what Cifer could tell, the ship was in top shape, but he wasn’t an engineer.

Maybe the older ship required as many hours as Blaize spent on it.

As soon as she disappeared, he quickly morphed, elongating his body to impossible proportions for anyone who was not his species, and slipped though the opening in the ventilation grate.

He camouflaged himself into the metal gray of the ship and slithered, bonelessly, through the duct until he found Blaize.

His tail end remained in his room. He could morph his body, but he couldn’t shrink it. His mass stayed the same.

Slowly, he thickened, filling the space almost completely. Transitions required massive energy. The closer he was to his true shape, the easier it was for him to maintain.

Blaize held some kind of tool with a probe. She touched a spot on the bundle of cables and then peered at the readout, again and again. He hadn’t seen her perform this task yet. By the frown on her face, she wasn’t satisfied with the results. “What is wrong? This should be routine,” she muttered.

She was quiet compared to other times he’d watched her. Was she sick?

“Dammit. You piece of shit.”

Cifer craned his neck to get a better view through the cover. Blaize cursed the probe that had separated into two pieces. Bent over, she searched the floor nearby, spinning in a complete circle.

“Shit.” She stood and went to a workbench set up along the far wall.

Her back was to Cifer, so her expression was a mystery, but her hands flew through the cabinets and containers.

A couple of times, she stopped and pulled a small item from one of the containers, held it against the probe, and then returned it to the container.

After several repetitions, she dropped the probe on the table and went toward the door.

Cifer quickly stretched and pulled himself back through the shaft. He completed his return to normal shape right before she hit the cargo hold.

“What were you doing?” She darted up to the cell door, the closest she’d come to him since the first meeting.

“What?”

“I saw you… I saw something. What were you doing?”

“Uh, just fiddling with these parts.” He hoped that would be explanation enough.

“Let me see.”

He held up the few screws, gears, nuts, and other bits that he was slowly fashioning into what he thought might turn out to be a bird.

Blaize pressed her face closer, and he moved the half-built sculpture toward her. She jumped back. “Where did you get that stuff?”

Cifer shrugged. “Just lying around, here and there.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you taking pieces of the ship?”

“Nothing that’s attached. Just loose bits of fluff.”

“What are you making?”

“Not sure yet.” He spun the object and watched her reaction.

She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “I lost a screw. To a probe. I need to find a replacement.”

“If something here works, it’s yours. Obviously.” Cifer held up the odd collection.

“Let me grab the probe.”

Cifer smiled. If he hurried, he could pull this off. He dropped the sculpture in progress on the bunk and shot through the ventilation. While Blaize snatched the probe from the work bench, Cifer reached for the screw that had come loose. He tucked it into a pouch of skin and shot back to the cell.

He was sitting on the bunk, trying to slow his breathing, when she arrived at his cell. The screw she needed didn’t connect to the sculpture that would more than likely become a bird, but he stuck it into a hole and gave it a quick twist.

“I have it.” She held up the two pieces.

“You can come in.” Cifer didn’t move from the bunk.

Blaize hesitated, and he was afraid she might refuse.

Slowly, she lifted her hand to the control panel, and the door slid open.

Cifer raised his eyes and patted the mattress next to him before going back to his sculpture.

Blaize sat, farther away than he would have liked, but she’d joined him on the bed. He’d take the small token of trust.

“May I see the probe?”

Blaize gathered it in one hand and held it out to him.

Cifer carefully placed the sculpture between them, away from the edge of the bunk.

He took the probe from her hands and made a good show of inspecting it as if he was analyzing what part might fit in the connector from the handheld base to the dangling bit of metal used to take the readings.

“It’s old, I know. There’s way newer technology than this.

But it was given to me. I have to fix it.

I can’t get another one until we reach Cassan, and I really don’t want another one.

It’s the one I learned on—system maintenance, I mean, not just the probe.

Do you think you might have a part that would work? ”

Cifer waited in case she continued to speak.

He loved the sound of her voice. It was like a warm fire on a winter cycle that he recalled from his childhood.

Smoky and heated. He imagined them curled up in his bed on Cassan, her talking or reading aloud, anything, just as long as her voice continued to flow.

She remained quiet.

“I’m sure I have something that will work.” He handed her the probe and picked up the sculpture. The piece he removed was the wrong one, but he needed more time with her. He held out his palm, and she took the screw from him carefully, avoiding contact.

“It doesn’t fit.” Her shoulders slumped, and she handed him the unworkable part. Their fingers grazed. She twitched away from him. So, she felt it, too—the electric heat that narrowed his world to her.

“Hold on.” Cifer moved his hand near her hair. “I think I see something.”

Blaize reached up to her head, but Cifer moved before she could touch him and held open his hand with the screw she needed.

“Nice trick.” She took the piece from his open hand without touching him.

He held himself still, not giving himself away with a knowing smile.

“It works. You had it. How did you have a part that fits this old thing? This is so good. You don’t even know. Thank you, Cifer.” She threw herself into his arms and gave him a firm hug.

“Blaize?” Dez’s concerned voice ricocheted through the cell.

Cifer was barely able to wrap his arms briefly around her before she gave him a horrified look and launched herself off the bunk and out of his cell. The scent of her, spicy and floral, lingered along with the heat of her body.

“What were you doing?” Dez asked her.

Cifer didn’t care what she answered, as long as she came back.

“I…uh…had to fix this.” Blaize held up her probe.

Dez glanced from Cifer to Blaize and back.

“A small screw,” Cifer added.

Dez scowled.

Cifer held up the small sculpture he’d been fiddling with. “Happened to have the one she needed.”

The door slid shut, and he forced himself to speak before she left. “Will you come back?”

She and Dez paused.

“I’d like to help you with any other small repairs you may have or possibly to share a meal. It’s a little tedious in here by myself.” And terribly lonely.

Blaize glanced toward her engine room and back. Hesitation froze her in place. Cifer held his breath. She glanced at the big gray security officer.

He shrugged.

“Um, sure. Yes. Of course.” She turned as red as her hair. Her white eyes shone when she looked at him. “I do have some repairs, and it must be boring.”

Cifer gave her an easy smile.

“I’ll bring lunch and tell you what I have.” She rushed off.

Dez watched her go, and jealousy poked Cifer in the gut. His world had shrunk to the brief moments when he could see Blaize. The first time he’d been able to get her to come inside, to touch him, and Dez had to show up and ruin it.

“You hurt her, I’ll end you. No discussion. No vote. No hesitation.”

Cifer’s eyes flicked, a momentary loss of control. Dez’s eyes widened. He hadn’t missed the slip. “I would never harm another being for any reason, but especially not Blaize.”

Dez’s gaze bored into him, assessing. A short grunt was the only acknowledgement he gave before turning and leaving.