Page 16 of Tethered

“Over time, dents in the hull would lead to the erosion of its ability to function properly. That’s loss of water, protection from radiation, heat, and corrosion.”

Vee chews on his lip, eyes wide. “But we’re safe?”

“We’re safe for now, but the damages need to be looked at. We lost some sensors that leave the ship without its full range of capabilities, which is why it’s taking Kit so long to catalogue everything.”

“You’re not panicking. That doesn’t sound good. Why aren’t you panicking?’ I say, panicking a little myself.

She shrugs. “I don’t panic until I’ve exhausted every possible option.”

My gulp is so loud, I think she must hear it. “Right,” I reply nervously.

The idea that the safety of the ship, and everyone on board, is literally on her shoulders is a strong shock to my already overtaxed system. It even manages to muscle aside my appreciation for her competence.

The door to the medical bay slides open as we approach. The room is spacious, with two beds against the far bulkhead. On either side is a large, comfortable chair and above the footbed of each is a holo-hub. Across from these is a wall of open medical lockers, one of them spilling bandages like guts. And in the corner of the bay, a woman is bent over a sink, washing her hands. She straightens and the overhead lighting illuminates dark circles under her blue eyes, her clothing wrinkled. She’s a little taller than me, with pale, almost translucent, skin and auburn hair twisted up in a sloppy bun.

“The damage?” the captain asks, her voice quiet and tense.

The woman shakes her head, shoving her hands into her pockets as she comes to a stop before us. “Not bad, just many. Small lacerations, bruises, concussions. No one was seriously hurt.”

It would be impossible not to take note of the sudden tautness in Tanisira’s body, the long line of it snapping into place like a tripwire. She swears under her breath, a curse that I don’t know the meaning of, but it’s guttural, a sharp contrast to the usual melody of her native tongue.

The medic frowns at her. “That’s nothing compared to what would have happened if you hadn’t made those manoeuvres so expertly.”

Her accent is faintly Scottish, the consonants smoothed over by time away from home, I imagine.

Tanisira doesn’t seem to accept that the casualties were a foregone conclusion of coming across a swarm; she shakes her head as if to dismiss the argument. She clears her throat and places a hand on the small of my back. I startle at the touch,but Tanisira isn’t even looking at us. It’s like she switched on autopilot.

“Khrys, this is Vee’s mother, Marlowe. Marlowe, our medical officer.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” I smile.

“Likewise. That’s a nasty shiner you’ve got there.” She nods at my face. “That’s not from today.”

It’s not a question, so I don’t answer. By now, my bruises are a motley collection of dark colours. They’re sore to the touch—which I do often because who can resist? —but not causing me any trouble.

“Could you check her over, please?” Tanisira asks, distracted.

Khrys trails a clinical gaze down my body before snapping back up. “Hop up on the bed.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine. Honestly. I wouldn’t want to—”

“On the bed,” she says, turning away and heading to a glove dispenser. She is surprisingly firm. Small on top, big on the bottom—Khrys looks like a pin-up girl.

She calls over her shoulder as I obey orders out of equal parts respect, enthrallment and exhaustion. “Is Vee hurt?”

“Unbruised as a peach,” he replies with a twang, grinning.

It shocks a laugh out of me, which then shocks a whimper out of me. Khrys narrows her eyes at my gasp as she pulls on a pair of blue gloves.

“Where did you hear that?” I ask Vee. He does often pick up things that no ten-year-old says naturally, but I’ve not heard that one before.

“Dad’s girlfriend—” He freezes, mouth snapping shut. I also freeze, although my mouth falls open instead.

“Dad’s what?”

Vee grimaces. “He told me not to say anything because he wanted to tell you.”

My heart clenches painfully. I don’t care that the son of a bitch has a girlfriend; I care that he’s making a liar out of my son. We’re honest with each other.Always. Vee must see the hurt in me because he steps forward, hesitant, before dropping his chin.