The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet

Day 335, GC Standard 306 KEDRIUM

Kizzy was up too late, as usual. That had been standard procedure ever since she was a kid. When she was small, Papa would tuck her in with a story and a kiss and a hug from Tumby, her stuffed frog. Moments after the lights went out, her toes would start wiggling, and her butt would follow suit, and before long, the idea of holding still and sleeping seemed super unfair. At regular intervals, Papa would come into her room, lift her away from her building blocks, and tuck her back in, his patient voice growing ever wearier. Finally, Ba would get home from the evening shift at the water station, and he’d say, “Kizzy, sweetheart, please go to sleep. The blocks will be there in the morning, I promise.” That was true, but he missed the point. While the actual physical blocks would stay where she left them, her brain always was full of new configurations that she hadn’t tried yet. If she didn’t get them out before she fell asleep, they’d be totally forgotten by morning, when she’d be distracted by the promise of pancakes.

As an adult, Kizzy had found ways to better manage the blueprints in her brain. She kept her scrib right by her bed so that she could fill it with sketches and notes without leaving the warmth of her blankets. But even so, unfinished projects often kept her up late. It always started with one last circuit, which turned into I bet I could fix this, and just a few more tweaks, and then bam, breakfast time.

But in the tendays since the whole Akarak thing, Kizzy had stayed awake for a different reason. Her brain still buzzed with ideas, but she went out of her way to keep herself busy even after they’d all been used up. Tonight, for instance, she was up dusting interface junctions on a spare power conduit. It wasn’t a vital job. It wasn’t even a necessary one. But it was something to do.

Dr. Chef had given her some drops to help her sleep, but she didn’t like them. They left her feeling fuzzy in the morning, and besides, she didn’t want to be the sort of person who needed drops at all. No, despite the tired, punched-face ache that nibbled at her all around the edges, she was going to do this without drops. Somehow, she’d figure out how to lie in bed without her mind drifting back to the cargo bay, guns in her face, Ashby bleeding in her lap. There hadn’t been a night since when she hadn’t laid there wondering if another ship would sneak up on them while she slept. She imagined Akaraks storming up to her room with their guns and shrieking voices. She imagined waking up to a pulse rifle pointed at her, or maybe not waking up at all. She remembered the way the bay doors had screeched as they were forced open. She remembered the thin jet of red that had spurted from Ashby’s mouth when the Akarak clocked him with the gun. One of these nights, she’d find a way to stop remembering. But for now, there were a lot of junctions to dust.

“Hey, Kizzy,” said Lovey through the vox. “Sorry to bug you, but you’re the only one awake.”

“What’s up, sweetcheeks?”

“There’s a ship approaching, about an hour out.”

The cleaning rag fumbled. Oh, stars. The Akaraks had come back. They’d circled back. Well, not this time, motherfuckers. She’d hide away in a wall panel, seal herself in from the inside so no one would know. She’d scurry through the walls like a mouse, pulling off flashbang sabotage until every last one of the scrawny bastards was dead. If it took tendays, fine. She’d just duck into the kitchen now and then to steal supplies. She could live in the walls. This was her ship, and—and who the fuck was she kidding? There was no way she could pull it off. They were dead, totally dead. Why hadn’t Ashby just bought a few guns back on Cricket? Dusthead Exodan, even just one gun would—

Lovey continued. “They’re signaling us. It’s a GC distress signal.”

Kizzy exhaled. She felt a smidge of guilt for being relieved that someone else was in trouble, but… ah well. She propped up her scrib against a spool of wire. “Patch ’em through to my vid link.”

The scrib switched on. A female Aeluon stared back at her. And like all members of her species, she was gorgeous. Silver skin, graceful neck, soft eyes, the whole shebang. Kizzy was suddenly very aware of the dirty worksuit she was wearing, the messy table, the—dammit, crumbs, she had cake crumbs on her shirt, and there was a pixel pen stuck in her hair, and—well, whatever. Surely the Aeluon had seen a Human tech before. She couldn’t blame Kizzy for belonging to a grubby profession, or an ugly species.

“Hi there,” Kizzy said, brushing herself off. “I’m Kizzy Shao. What’s your trouble?” It was then that she noticed what the Aeluon was wearing. At first glance, the lady was just a snappy dresser, but Kizzy had played enough action sims to know an armored vest when she saw one—not clunky Human-style, but one designed to blend in with the rest of her outfit. The Aeluon was seated, but Kizzy could see the end of an energy pistol peeking up over her belt. And there, cuffed around her arm—wasn’t that a personal shield generator? Looked new, too. This lady meant business. Like, serious business. That wasn’t just protective gear. It was getting shit done because I am the boss gear. Kizzy wished that Jenks was awake.

The Aeluon smiled (or, at least, something face-related that was close enough). “Hello, Kizzy. I’m Captain Gapei Tem Seri. I was hoping to speak to your captain. Is he available?”

“He’s asleep, but I can wake him up if you—”

“No, no,” the Aeluon said. “Don’t disturb him. Are you authorized to permit unscheduled dockings?”

Authorized to permit unscheduled dockings. Stars, this lady wasn’t messing around. “Um, sure, I guess,” Kizzy said. She wasn’t sure unscheduled dockings were something that had ever been specifically discussed aboard the Wayfarer. If a ship’s friendly and needs help, you help. Simple as that.

The Aeluon nodded. The gesture looked practiced. She obviously knew how to talk with Humans. “We’ve suffered damage to our life support systems. It seems our most recent shipment included a delayed disruptor mine. It didn’t go off until we were out in the open.”

“Whoa. Shit. Are you okay?”

“We have temporary repairs in place, and we’ve been holding fairly steady for three days now. But we’re on our way to Aeluon space, and I’m not sure our stop-gap measures will last that long. What we really need is to shut down the core entirely and let our fixbots do their job.”

“And you need a place to hang out in the meantime. No worries, we’ve got plenty of air to go around. Wait, do you not have a tech?”

The Aeluon’s cheeks darkened into a greenish-grey. “We ran into some trouble at our last stop. Our tech…” She exhaled. “Our tech didn’t make it. I… I haven’t had a chance to hire a new one yet.”

“Stars. I’m so sorry.” Okay, what the hell did this lady do that involved disruptor mines and the kind of “trouble” that ended in dead techs?

The Aeluon didn’t say anything further about it. “Anyway, if we could come aboard, just while our bots do their job—”

“Why not let us do it? I’m the mech tech here, and our comp tech knows his way around a life support system. We’re better than bots, and depending on the damage, you might not have to take your systems offline.”

The Aeluon considered this. “Are you familiar with Aeluon tech?”

“Well, uh, not like, practically. But tech is tech. We can take a look, at least. Promise I won’t touch anything if I don’t know what it does.”

“As long as it’s no trouble, then yes, I’d appreciate anything you could do.”

“Cool. Yeah, definitely.”

“Our ship is less than an hour out from yours, but we could half it if you meet us in the middle.”

“Absolutely. No problem.”

The Aeluon’s face brightened. “Wonderful.” The lights hanging above her reflected off her scales, like sunlight on a wave. Why was everything that the Aeluons did so pretty? “I’ve got a crew of six—er, five, plus two soldiers.” Holy shit, Aeluon commandos. Jenks is going to wet himself. “We’ll do our best to keep out of your way.”

“Oh, no worries, that’s totally fine,” Kizzy said. “I’m sure Dr. Chef would love to feed you guys. He’s our cook.” Wow, that sounded stupid. For once, why couldn’t she just sound cool?

“Yes, I know. Your captain and I are acquaintances, actually. But yes, thank you, Kizzy. I don’t know what we would’ve done if we hadn’t found you.”

How does she know—The thought cut off with a thud. The pieces fell together. “Um, yeah, we’re, uh, happy to help. Hey, sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Gapei Tem Seri. Do you need me to send over my ID—”

“No, no, I just, ah… are you Pei?”

The Aeluon paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Yes,” she said. The sound from her talkbox had gone soft, secret. “That’s a nickname I let my friends use. Ashby included.”

Kizzy grinned so hard she thought her face would break. This lady—this insanely beautiful badass who wore energy pistols and said things like disruptor mine without kidding around—was Pei. Ashby didn’t just know this Aeluon. Ashby was banging this Aeluon. “Captain, um—sorry, I don’t know which name to call you by.” Aeluons had two last names, one for their family, and one for where they were from. She wasn’t sure which was which.

“Captain Tem is fine.”

“Well, Captain Tem, I think I’m speaking for my captain and all the rest of us when I say that you’re welcome to come aboard for as long as you like.”

“Thank you, Kizzy.” Captain Tem paused again. “I’m not quite sure how to ask this—”

Kizzy got it. Captain Tem was an Aeluon, with an Aeluon crew, with Aeluon soldiers on board, and she was about to come aboard her Human boyfriend’s ship. Kizzy leaned forward, wiping the grin off her face. “Yes, we all know how to… be polite.” Meaning keep our mouths shut. “Especially around soldiers.”

Captain Tem looked grateful. “Thanks, Kizzy. I appreciate that. I’ll signal again when we’ve reached your coordinates.”

“Sounds good. See you soon.” The vidlink panel on the scrib flicked off. Kizzy started laughing. Oh, man. So cool. So. Cool. “Hey, Lovey,” she called to the vox. “Wake up Jenks. Sissix, too. I need to talk to them like right now.”

“What about Ashby?”

“Nah. I want to wake him up myself so I can see his face.”

“Nosy.”

“Says you.”

The AI laughed. “Do you really think Captain Tem will let Jenks aboard her ship? He’d like that very much.”

“Lovey, I have the feeling that this little rendezvous is going to be awesome for everybody.”

Ashby’s brain wasn’t working right. For starters, he’d been startled out of three hours of sleep by Kizzy, who had decided to wake him up by hacking the lock on his door and turning on all the lights. Then she’d told him the most incomprehensible thing: Pei was coming aboard. Pei. Here. On his ship. And she’d been talking to Kizzy, of all people.

“Do you have any idea what Kizzy said to her?” He was in the bathroom, finishing the fastest shower of his life.

Sissix answered from the opposite side of the shower curtain. He could hear the amusement in her voice. It was the sound of the look she’d been wearing for the past ten minutes. “I have no idea,” she said. “But she didn’t even realize who she was talking to at first. I think your reputation is intact.”

Ashby switched off the shower, blotted himself dry, and wrapped his towel around his waist. He stepped out into the room and grabbed a dentbot pack from the communal basket. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. “I look like shit.” He pulled back the seal on the pack and squeezed the gel onto his tongue. He tossed the empty package and pressed his lips together. He could feel the gel spread itself around his mouth as the bots searched for plaque and bacteria.

Sissix leaned against the wall, holding a mug between her claws. “You do not, and even if you did, I highly doubt she’ll care.”

“Mmph mm.”

“What?”

Ashby rolled his eyes and let the bots do their job, wishing they’d work a little faster. After a minute or so, the gel went thin, indicating that the bots had begun to break down. He spat the vaguely minty goo into a sink and rinsed it down the drain. “I said, I care.”

“I know. And it’s very cute that you do.”

He put his hands on the edge of the sink and looked into the mirror. His eyes had a hint of red, and his hair had seen better days. He sighed. “I don’t want to screw things up for her.”

Sissix stepped over and put her hand between his shoulder blades. “You won’t. And neither will the rest of us. No jokes, no innuendos. We know how serious this is.” She pointed to a stack of clothes resting on the counter. “That’s the least wrinkly pair of pants I could find.” She handed him the mug. “And I had Dr. Chef make you some of this awful stuff.”

The smell hit his nose before he even brought the cup to his face. Coffee. “You are the best.” He tipped the rim of the mug between his lips. Dark, bitter, strong. He felt better already.

Sissix patted his forearm. “Come on. Put on your pants. I want to meet the woman who gets to take them off.”

A short while later, he was standing in front of the airlock, surrounded by the self-appointed welcoming committee—Sissix, Dr. Chef, and the techs. Caffeine, adrenaline, and the need for sleep all battled for supremacy, chasing each other around like a pack of dogs. He felt like hell.

“So, Ashby,” Jenks said. “You gonna tell us how you two met?”

Ashby sighed. “Not right now.”

Jenks grinned. He’d been doing that a lot this morning. “I’ll wait.” He pulled his redreed tin from a pocket.

Dr. Chef nudged him. “No red smoke. Aeluons are often allergic.”

Jenks closed the tin. “Real allergic, right? Not Corbin allergic?”

Dr. Chef let out a percussive, laughing chord. “Real allergic.”

“The Aeluon ship is now extending their docking tube,” Lovey said. Ashby could hear metallic clanking against the hull. “Their hatch is open. I’m initiating decontamination protocols.”

Ashby could hear footsteps beyond the airlock door. Oh stars, she’s there. She’s in there right now. He exhaled.

Sissix rubbed her cheek on his shoulder. “Nervous?”

“Why would you say that?”

Sissix rested her chin against his neck and squeezed his arm. Ashby’s mouth twitched. He knew it was a friendly, reassuring gesture, and Pei probably knew enough about Aandrisks to know what Sissix meant by it, but something in his Human brain balked at the idea of Pei walking in to see another woman draped over his shoulder. He lowered his voice. “Sis, sorry, but could you not… um…”

“Hm?” Her yellow eyes searched his face, confused. “Ohhh. Right. Right.” She moved a step away and clasped her hands behind her back. She didn’t say another word, but Ashby could see the laughter in her eyes.

“Ashby, there’s something weird here,” Lovey said.

“What’s up? Some kind of bug?”

“No, no contaminants, but I’m confused. Their patch scans all check out, but there are supposed to be two soldiers with them. All I’m getting are civilian patches.”

“They’re probably undercover,” Ashby said. “It’s okay to let them in, Lovey. I trust them.”

“So cool,” Jenks whispered to Kizzy. They both giggled like schoolkids. Stars and fire, you two, behave.

The doors slid open. The airlock was full of people, but Ashby only had eyes for one of them. He was very much awake now.

Pei stepped forward. “Permission to come aboard?” she said, looking deep into Ashby’s eyes. The air seemed to crackle between them. She had to play the captain now, but he could see that she wanted to say much more.

He nodded. All was understood. “Come out of the open and into our home,” he said. It was an Exodan expression, one used for newly docked travelers. “It’s good to see you.” He extended his hand. This was a joke, though neither of their crews would get it. He knew full well that Aeluons pressed their palms in greeting, but he hadn’t known that when he’d first met Pei, and likewise, she hadn’t known what to do with his hand after she held it.

“Good to see you, too, old friend.” She shook his hand, noting the gesture with nothing more than a slight flicker of her eyelids. Damn, she was good at this. If he hadn’t understood the need for secrecy, he might have been offended by her nonchalance.

Introductions were made. Pei shook hands with the techs, pressed palms with Sissix (of course Sissix knew what to do), and laughed with Dr. Chef while trying to figure out his handfeet. Ashby worked his way through Pei’s crew, pretending as if he didn’t know their names, moods, and personal histories already. He knew that two of them, Sula and Oxlen, knew about him and Pei. Their eyelids flicked with acknowledgment as he met them. As far as he was aware, they were the only Aeluons in the galaxy who knew. He was going to do his damnedest to keep it that way.

The two soldiers, though dressed in civilian clothing, were easy to spot. For one thing, they were armed more heavily than the others (which Ashby found somewhat unsettling), and their muscles were toned to perfection. One of them, a female, had an ocular implant. The end of an old scar jutted down below it. The male was young, but carried a weariness with him. Ashby wondered how long he’d been at war, and if he was glad for the respite of a cargo run.

Ashby glanced at Pei, who was sharing pleasantries with his crew. He’d imagined her on his ship so many times, but his daydreams had played out differently. Pei would step through the airlock, with nothing but a bag over her shoulder and a smile in her eyes. He’d put his arm around her waist as he introduced her. Sissix wouldn’t have to hold back her welcoming hug. They’d go to the Fishbowl, where all his favorite people would get to know each other over one of Dr. Chef’s celebratory dinners. They’d drink mek and laugh, lounging easily in the garden. A simple blending of the two halves of his life. But here in the airlock, the separation was clear. Military and civilian. Aeluons and a mixed species hodgepodge. High tech and the-best-they-could-do. But even so, she was still on his ship, talking to his crew. The lines between their lives had become blurred. He could feel her pulling him across the divide.

“I can’t believe how lucky we were to find you out here,” Pei said. “I hope we aren’t inconveniencing you.”

“Stay as long as you need.” Or just stay, period. “I hear our techs have volunteered to help with repairs.”

“We’re all ready to go,” Kizzy said, hands on her toolbelt buckle. “You just point us in the right direction.”

“Oxlen will go with you,” Pei said.

“I’m no tech,” said Oxlen, Pei’s pilot, a tall male with light eyes. “But I can tell you the basics of what’s what.”

The female soldier—Tak, if Ashby remembered correctly—spoke up. “I was hoping that we might have access to your scanners and ansible. I highly doubt we will encounter enemy contacts out here, but given what happened aboard our ship, we can’t be too careful.”

“Sissix can show you to the control room,” Ashby said. “Unless you’d like manual access to our AI core.” Out of the corner of his eye, Ashby could see Jenks stiffen at the suggestion. Relax, Jenks, they’re not going to break her.

“Your control room should be fine,” Tak said. She nodded to Sissix, who lead the way down the hall. Ashby could not have imagined an odder looking pair: the armed Aeluon missing an eye, and the Aandrisk in low-slung pants and a fresh coat of swirls painted on her claws.

“As for the rest of us,” Pei said. “I’m afraid all we can do is wait.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’ll be so bad,” Dr. Chef said. “It’s just about time for me to start preparing breakfast. Though, fair warning, my recipes weren’t exactly made with Aeluons in mind. This might be the worst breakfast you’ve ever had.”

The male soldier laughed. “You’ve never had field rations.”

“You’d be surprised.” Dr. Chef puffed his cheeks. Ashby smiled. Few things made Dr. Chef happier than feeding hungry people. “Come along with me. Let’s have a look through my stasie, see what appeals to you.”

“Please tell me you have real mek on board,” one of Pei’s crew said. He had a gun strapped across his back that would have made Bear and Nib weep with envy. Did they really have to wear weapons here?

“Plenty of mek,” Kizzy said. “Big ol’ boxes of it.”

“Oh, stars, that’s great news. If I have to drink another cup of the pre-packaged stuff, I’m going to be sick.”

“Only one cup each,” Pei said. “I’m not getting back on my ship with a fuzzy-eyed crew.”

“Come on, come on, all of you,” Dr. Chef said, leading the way out of the airlock, walking on two. “I’m not letting you leave hungry.”

The remaining Aeluons followed eagerly. “Leave some for me,” Oxlen called after them as he lead the techs back through the airlock. Kizzy snuck one last glance at Pei, and wiggled her eyebrows at Ashby. He rolled his eyes and shooed her away with his hand. She scampered off, chuckling.

They waited until the hallway was silent. Even then, Ashby wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to kiss her, hold her, run up to his room and let her tear off his clothes. Somehow, he held it back. “So. This is unexpected.”

She stared at him. Her second eyelids closed slowly. Her cheeks turned a displeased shade of yellow. “There is a scatter burst burn on your hull.”

“You always say the most romantic things.”

“Ashby.” She glared. “You said in your last message that you got boarded and that you lost some supplies. You said nothing about getting fired upon. Was anyone hurt?”

“No.” He paused. “Just me. But I’m fine.”

Her cheeks swam with exasperated colors. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I didn’t want you to worry.”

She cocked her head. “We seem to have traded places.”

“Hardly. Who’s the one showing up on my doorstep talking about disruptor mines?”

“There was only the one mine, and no one was hurt. It seems someone at the loading bay had an… opinion about the war.”

Ashby shook his head. “The Rosk are attacking border colonies. How—”

“I know, I know. People are crazy.” She frowned. “And speaking of, the more I hear about this Toremi situation, the less I like it.”

“You didn’t like it from the start.”

“Ashby, listen. I met the captain of a pinhole tug that’s been ferrying diplomats out there. The Toremi, they’re… strange.”

“They’re a different species. We’re all strange to each other. You’re strange to me sometimes.”

“No, I mean dangerous strange. Incomprehensible strange. She said she couldn’t understand how the GC had brokered an alliance with them at all. The diplomats, they kept talking about how hard it was to communicate with them. It wasn’t a matter of language, the Toremi just think differently. They try to all think exactly the same things in exactly the same way, which is insane enough, but everything goes to shit if they can’t find consensus. That captain, she told me that a few standards back, when the GC finally got their foot in the door, a few Toremi tore each other apart—I mean literally, Ashby, during a conference—because they couldn’t agree on whether or not Harmagians were sapient.”

“I’m sure they’ve figured that much out by now.”

“Maybe. All I know is that she heard of several times where a Toremi delegate didn’t voice agreement with its higher-ups during a meeting, and then was never seen again. She hated going out there. She said she got scared every time one of their ships got close. She didn’t trust them. And neither do I.”

“You’ve never met them. Pei, they wouldn’t be sending us all the way to the Core if they didn’t think they could keep us safe. We’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Her cheeks flashed pale purple with frustration. “I can’t even keep the people on my own ship safe. How am I supposed to not worry about you?”

He looked down the hallway, just to be sure. He took her hand. “Kizzy said you lost someone.”

She shut her eyes. “Saery.”

He squeezed her hand tight, fighting the urge to take her into his arms. “Stars. Pei, I’m so sorry.”

“It was pointless, Ashby, so fucking pointless. He got jumped in an alley while we were on Dresk. They cut out his patch and stole the tech he’d picked up that day. If he hadn’t been alone—”

“Hey.” He reached up to cup her cheek. The hell with it. “Hey, now. Don’t go there.”

She pressed her cheek into his palm, ever so briefly, then pulled back, her eyes flicking down the hall. “I’ve missed you so much,” she said. “These last tendays… I wanted to write to you, but—”

"I know,” he said, and smiled. “Come on. I’ll show you my ship, and we can talk. Touring the ship is a respectable sort of activity, right?”

There was a tiny flash of amused green in her cheeks. “Yeah.”

“What did you tell them, anyway? About you and me?”

“That we met on Port Coriol, right after I bought my ship. I met you there during a supply run, and sometimes we meet for a drink when we wind up at the same dock.”

“Huh. The truth.”

“Well, the innocuous part of it, anyway. To be honest, it felt a little strange.” Her cheeks went yellow. “I’ve gotten used to lying about you.”

“I feel like I should’ve left my shoes at the door,” Jenks said to Kizzy as they followed Oxlen through the corridors of the Aeluon frigate.

Kizzy nodded. She’d seen Aeluon ships in dock, and Linking pics of what they looked like inside, but being inside one… it was like walking through a piece of art. The grayish walls were pristine, not a bolt or panel to be seen. She couldn’t see any individual light fixtures, just continuous strips of soft light emanating from the curved ceiling. No window frames, no visible air filters. It was a ship as smooth and seamless as stone. And silent, too. Though Aeluons had given themselves the means to process sound and verbal speech, they only needed those abilities to communicate with other species. Within their own ships, they had no use for sound. There were no voxes or klaxons or panels that beeped and chirped. Even the sounds of the life support systems and artigrav nets were so low that Kizzy could barely make them out (though she doubted their quietness was engineered on purpose; more likely, they were just extremely well designed). The absence of sound made the ship seem all the more hallowed, like a temple built to honor good tech. Her and Jenks’ big, stompy boots and clanking toolbelts felt intrusive. She was glad that she’d had the time to change into a relatively clean jumpsuit.

“Life support’s in here,” Oxlen said. He placed his palm on the wall, and a portion of it melted open. As Kizzy walked through the opening, she could see the surrounding frame, the predefined edges of the door, solid as the thickest plex.

“What is this stuff?” Kizzy asked, running her palm over the wall. Cold and firm, but she could feel a latent pliability beneath. “Some sort of responsive polymer?”

“Yes. It’s held in place by an electrostatic lattice, which responds to the bioelectrical signals in our skin.”

“Wow.” Kizzy leaned closer to the wall, squinting. “What’s it made of?”

“That’s… beyond my area of expertise. I’m sure you could look it up in the Linkings.” They walked into a room filled with a tangle of tech. Way, way better looking than the stuff Kizzy was used to, but recognizable all the same. Oxlen gestured to a large apparatus, the heavy heart at the center of a network of tubes and pipes. “This is—”

“Your atmospheric regulator.” Kizzy put her hands on her hips and nodded as she inspected it. “Looks an awful lot like ours.”

“Except a hell of a lot prettier,” Jenks said. “Check out those stabilizers.”

“Wow,” Kizzy said. “Look at the interlocking seals. Awesome. Awesome, awesome, awesome.” She craned her head toward Oxlen. “Where was the mine?”

“Top left corner. Tucked behind the…” Oxlen made a vague gesture. “That lump with the little knob on it.”

Kizzy climbed up the side of the regulator, taking care to rest her weight on the sturdiest pipes. Behind the relay hub—the lump with the little knob on it—was a patch of torn metal, the end result of a fierce energy discharge. She pulled her tech lenses from her belt and slipped them over her head. She peered through the magnification lens as she pried up the metal and looked inside.

“Wow,” she said. “All the nodes around here are fried. The filter relays are ten kinds of fucked up. Your fixbots patched ’em up okay, but this needs more than—holy shit, look at that. Wow.” She flipped the lens aside, put on her gloves, and reached into the hole.

“What’s up?” Jenks asked.

Kizzy felt around, running her protected fingers over the mangled machinery. “The entire regulator shaft’s stripped. Nasty piece of work.”

“Should I go get some filler sheets?”

“Yeah, and grab your small tools while you’re at it. There’s a whole circuit panel in here that you’ll need to rewire. And snacks, Jenks, we’re gonna need a shitload of snacks for this.” She rubbed her left eye, pushing away the sleepiness. She was starting her day without having gone to bed, but that was hardly anything new. She had a thermos of happy tea clipped to her belt, and a packet of stims in her pocket in case things got really dire. It’d do.

“So, you can fix it?” Oxlen said.

“Oh, yeah,” Kizzy said. She looked Oxlen in the eye and placed her hand over her heart. “Believe me when I say that there’s nothing I’d rather do than fix this thing.”

Rosemary sat perched on a stack of empty vegetable crates, snacking on pepper puffs. Sissix was with her, leaning against one of Dr. Chef’s bug breeding tanks. The curtain separating the storage room from the kitchen was pulled back, but not all the way. The stasie hummed. The bugs skittered. It was a good place for gossip.

“They’re so pretty,” Rosemary said, looking out at the Aeluons happily stuffing their faces around the dinner table. “I wish I had scales.”

“You say that,” Sissix said. “Be happy you have skin that doesn’t shed all in one go.”

“Do Aeluons molt?”

“No. The bastards.” She took a few puffs from the bowl sitting in Rosemary’s lap.

“How do you see them? I know attractiveness is relative.”

“True, but Aeluons are the universal exception. They’re stupidly pretty.” Sissix crunched her puffs.

“Harmagians probably disagree.”

“Harmagians don’t get a say in this.”

“Why?”

“Because they have no bones and are covered in goo.”

Rosemary chuckled. “That’s not their fault.”

“It’s still true.” Sissix grinned. “Look at them, though.” She nodded toward the Aeluons. “Look at the way they move. Even little things. Like that one, look at the way she picked up her cup. They don’t move. They dance.” She took another handful of puffs. “They make me feel like… oh, what are those big ugly reptiles you have back on Earth? The extinct ones?”

“Um…” Rosemary racked her brain. “I don’t know. Iguanas?”

“I don’t know what those are. I don’t mean things lost in the Collapse. I mean the old reptiles, the ones millions of years ago.”

“Dinosaurs.”

“Yes!” Sissix hunched over, tucking her arms up and exaggerating the angle of her bent legs. She stomped around the storage room, shifting her weight clumsily.

Rosemary cracked up. “You’re not a dinosaur.”

“You don’t know that. You weren’t there. Maybe some of them built ships and left.”

Rosemary let her eyes trail over Sissix. Polished green scales. Festive quills. Artful swirls painted around her claws. The way her pants hung just so over her strange hips. Even when goofing off amid old crates and edible bugs, she was lovely. “You’re too pretty to be a dinosaur,” she said. She felt her cheeks flush as she said it. She hoped it didn’t show.

“That’s a relief,” Sissix said, straightening up. “They didn’t have the best of luck, if I recall. What was it? Gamma ray burst?”

“Impact event.”

“Too bad. The galaxy could use a few more reptiles.”

“To be fair, though, them dying out made room for us weird furry things.”

Sissix laughed and gave Rosemary’s shoulder a friendly squeeze. “And I am fond of you weird furry things.”

Rosemary smiled, and got to her feet. “You want some fizz?” she said, walking to the cooler.

“Yes, please. These puffs have a kick.” Sissix watched the Aeluons as Rosemary searched for drinks. “I’ve heard it’s very scary to encounter them in combat. No yelling or noise. Just a bunch of silent people coming to kill you.”

“Ugh,” Rosemary said. She handed Sissix a frosty bottle of melon fizz. “That’s creepy.”

“You ever hear of the battle of Tkrit?” Sissix said. She looked at the long-necked bottle in her hand. “I need an Aandrisk-friendly cup.”

“Oh, right, sorry,” Rosemary said. She stepped through the doorway and opened the cupboard outside, in search of something that someone without lips could drink from. Out at the far end of the kitchen, Corbin appeared at the counter. He gave the briefest of glances their way as he poured himself a mug of tea from the communal decanter. Sissix didn’t acknowledge him, but Rosemary could see her feathers fluff ever so slightly. “What’s the battle of Tkrit?”

“Territory skirmish back before the GC, when we were all snatching up habitable planets as fast as we could. One of the few times Aeluons and Aandrisks clashed. Just a squabble, really. We were never formally at war. The story goes that late one night, three groups of Aeluon soldiers snuck into the base on Tkrit. Dead quiet, like I said, and coming in from all sides.”

“What’d the Aandrisks do?” Rosemary said, handing Sissix a cup.

Sissix grinned. “They turned off the lights. Aeluons can’t see in infrared.”

Rosemary imagined being inside a pitch-black building, filled with silent soldiers being picked off by unseen claws reaching through the darkness. She shivered.

“Speaking of Aeluons,” Sissix said. “I am dying to know where our captain is.” She turned toward the vox. "Hey, Lovey.”

“Nope,” Lovey said.

Sissix and Rosemary exchanged amused looks. “Nope?” Sissix said.

“You heard me. No way.”

“Please? You don’t have to say what they’re doing, just tell me where—”

“Oh, no! I seem to have a… circuit… problem. I can’t talk to you any more.” The vox switched off.

Rosemary and Sissix started to laugh, but the fun died as Corbin approached the storage room. “Do you know when Kizzy and Jenks are coming back?” He addressed the question directly to Rosemary. “They’ve been gone five hours.”

“Sorry, I don’t know,” Rosemary said.

“Rough estimate?”

“I really have no idea.”

Corbin huffed. “The mixer they replaced last tenday jammed again, and the sensors aren’t responding. I have a drum that’s on the brink of going tacky.”

Rosemary wanted to comment that the Aeluons had a ship that was running out of air, but if Sissix could bite her tongue, so could she. “If I see them before you do, I’ll send them your way.”

“I’d appreciate that.” He gave a curt nod and left.

Rosemary turned to Sissix, who was contemplating something within her cup. “What’s up?”

Sissix inhaled, as if surfacing from a deep thought. “Oh, I was just exploring the idea of telling the Aeluons that Corbin is a Rosk spy.”

Rosemary snorted. “I’m sure they treat their prisoners well.”

“Well, that’s the thing. I doubt a civilian ship like that has facilities for transporting captured spies.” She sipped her drink. “I bet they’d make good use of the airlock, though.”

The wrench fell from Kizzy’s hand and clattered down behind the regulator. “Oops.” She climbed down the pipes, making her way to the space between the machinery and the wall.

“You want me to get it?” Jenks asked.

“Nah, there’s plenty of space.” Kizzy jumped down to the floor and began hunting for the errant tool. After a few steps forward, she paused. Something wasn’t right. She turned around and looked at the wall. There was a hatchway there, but it wasn’t properly melting into the surrounding wall. The seam around it flickered, as if someone was activating and deactivating the door faster than it could respond.

“Hey, Oxlen,” Kizzy called.

“Yes?”

“Is there a service panel back here?”

“I think so, why?”

“Looks like it’s malfunctioning.” Kizzy thought about the way the walls worked. “Could something be interfering with the structural lattice? A wonky circuit or something? Anything generating a signal?”

“I suppose. I don’t really know. Do you think the mine damaged the door?”

Kizzy looked back up at the regulator. The relay hub was a long way up. She shook her head. “I doubt it. Nothing else this far down was damaged.” Kizzy pressed her hand against the panel. She could feel the polymer beneath her fingers liquefy—though that wasn’t quite the right word, because the wall didn’t feel wet. Just… fluid. Kizzy gave a little laugh. “Cool.” The panel melted aside. The frame twitched and wiggled, but it held in place. She stuck her head into the wall and switched on the two little globulbs attached to her lenses.

The wall held power conduits, fuel tubes, waste lines—all the things you’d expect to see within a ship’s wall. She stepped inside. There was a narrow service pathway there, big enough for a lone tech. The pathway led upward, disappearing into the darker regions of the ship’s innards. She gazed around, looking for a sparking circuit or a leaking tube.

A small flash of yellow light caught her eye. Just a little ways above her head, easily within arm’s reach, a strange object clung to a bundle of fuel tubes. Flat, black, round. Like a metallic jellyfish, tendrils wrapped tight. It was obviously of different make than the surrounding tech, but Kizzy couldn’t quite place it. There was another flash. Then a pause. Then a flash again.

“What the hell—” she muttered. She reached toward it. But before her fingers made contact, she froze. Another flash appeared in the corner of her eye. She craned her head up to follow the pathway. There was another one of the objects, positioned a few paces away from her. Then another. And another.

She turned off her globulbs. Stretched out in a steady line, disappearing into the dark, a row of tiny yellow lights blinked in rhythm.

With a rising horror, she realized what they were.

Kizzy threw herself back against the wall as if burned. Run, she thought. Run. But she didn’t run. She stared.

“Kizzy?” Jenks called. “You okay in there?”

She swallowed hard, trying to work some spit back into her mouth. “Mines,” she said.

“What was that?”

“Mines,” she said, louder. “The wall. The entire fucking wall. It’s full of mines.” And big ones, too. Earlier, she’d found a piece of casing from the one that had knocked out the atmospheric regulator. Intact, it had probably been as wide across as her pinky. These ones were about the size of an outstretched hand. Things that big weren’t made for knocking out an isolated system. Things that big were made to go boom.

Back in the room, Jenks and Oxlen were making a lot of noise, talking over each other, calling their respective captains. But to Kizzy, they seemed distant. Her heart was in her ears. Her muscles started to shake. Her body begged to get away. But a quiet thought cut through the panic, holding her steady. How long before they go off? She thought about this. If they were ready to go off in seconds, running away wouldn’t make any damn difference, not for her, not for the cargo ship, nor for the Wayfarer. But if there was more time, even just a minute or two, maybe… could she?

She looked at the evil metal jellyfish nearest to her. Explosive or not, it was still a machine. She understood machines. Machines followed rules.

“Oxlen,” she called. “Do either of those soldiers happen to be weapons techs?”

“What? No, no, they’re just guards, we don’t have anyone who—”

Kizzy ignored the rest of whatever Oxlen was saying. She unhooked a pair of clippers from her belt, flicked her globulbs back on, and climbed up close.

“Kizzy,” Jenks said. “Kizzy, you need to get out of there.”

“Quiet,” she said. “Give me a minute.”

“We may not have a minute, Kizzy, get out of there.”

“If we don’t have a minute, it won’t make any fucking difference where I am.”

“Kizzy—” Oxlen started.

Kizzy flipped her scanner lenses into place. “Both of you. Shut up. I can do this. Just—just shut up.”

Somewhere very far away, she could hear more yelling, and a clanking sound—probably Jenks climbing over the pipes to come get her. She ignored it and peered through the lens into the heart of the mine. Its interior was solid explosive material—kedrium, given the density—which was seriously great news. For starters, that meant the triggering mechanisms were only on the outside of the mine, so there were no surprises inside that she needed to worry about. Better still, she knew kedrium. Back in her teens, she’d been grounded for her whole summer break after she and her friends had blown up an old junker skiff with a block of the stuff. Cheap explosive, used for clearing rock. You could get it at any market stop. If the mine used kedrium, that meant there had to be two triggers—one to start a heating device, and one to spark the kedrium once it was hot enough to be reactive. She took off her gloves and felt around the edges of the mine. Still cold. That was a good sign. She ran a finger over the seams. There. She shifted around so that she was hunched over within the fuel tubes. From that vantage point, she could see little trigger knobs sticking out from the backside, surrounded by dried beads of sealant. This wasn’t some fancy-pants military-grade tech. This was hackjob work.

She placed the clippers between her teeth and pulled a heat awl from her belt. The sealant fizzled and thinned under the awl’s searing tip. She switched back to the magnification lens. Okay. That looks like the primary trigger, so if I just pop it loose—The yellow light blinked steadily, unchanged from before. There’s the heater. And there—She held her breath and pulled the knob away from the frame. A thin cable trailed after it. She let the awl fall to the floor and took the clippers from her mouth. Her hand began to shake. The clippers rattled. She cut the cable.

The light switched off.

“Kizzy—”

She pried the blasting cap free of its gutted frame. It fell into her hand. Heavy. Cold. Harmless. A shudder of air burst from her lips. Her vision swam. She slumped against the wall and slid down to the floor, pressing her free palm against her forehead.

“Holy fuck,” Jenks said, falling against the door frame. “You did it.”

Kizzy took a deep breath. Her muscles shook all the harder. She laughed.

One of the problems with talkboxes was that operating them required no small degree of mental concentration. If the wearer was distracted or impaired, the computerized words would come out jumbled. Such was the case with Pei, who was more upset than Ashby had ever seen. She stood fuming over the pieces of the disarmed mine that Kizzy had placed on the dinner table. Her cheeks were purple with anger, dark as a bruise.

“I can’t—bastards on—what we might—brought you into—sorry for—”

“Pei,” Ashby said. He raised a halting hand, minding his tone with care. They were surrounded by her crew and his. He was alarmed, she was furious, and their people were afraid. It was just the sort of situation that might make one of them slip. “Try to slow down.”

She took a shuddering breath. The colors in her cheeks flared, but held steady. “Saery. I can’t believe he was a coincidence.”

“What do you mean?” said one of her crew. Sula, a short female.

“Think about it. If the Aeluons give you sand between your teeth, and you want to cause some damage, why go to the trouble of taking out one cargo ship when you could take out a docking hub? Or a repair station?”

Oxlen’s cheeks darkened. There were a lot of purple faces at the table. “They knocked out a vital system so that we’d have to stop for repairs. They figured we’d pull into port somewhere. That’s why the mines haven’t gone off yet. They timed them to wait a few tendays, because that’s how long it would take us to get to a dock. They weren’t planning for us to get help along the way.”

Sula’s eyes narrowed. “And they made sure we didn’t have a tech to fix it. He wasn’t mugged. They must’ve watched him.”

Pei took a few steps toward the window, fists balled against her sides. Ashby stuck his hands in his pockets and pressed his feet to the floor. Sissix caught his eye. Almost imperceptibly, she flashed him the Aandrisk gesture for sympathy.

“We can get angry later,” Pei said, turning back. Her cheeks had dulled to a dusky blue. “Right now, we have a bigger problem. Ashby, I can’t believe I got you mixed up in this. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not,” Ashby said. “You might not have known anything was wrong if it wasn’t for Kizzy.”

“See, this is why fixbots are stupid,” Kizzy said. “There are so many things they—”

Jenks lay a hand across her arm. “Not now, Kiz.”

Tak picked up one of the pieces of the mine. “It must’ve been one of the dock workers. Slipped away while the others were unloading cargo. This is our fault. We should’ve been more vigilant.”

“Nobody expected this,” Pei said. “I’ve been running cargo for ten standards, and whenever somebody wants a piece of what I’ve got, they come at me directly. I’ve never dealt with anything so underhanded.”

Tak’s second eyelids darted in, then back again. “I don’t understand why they’d use such crude tech after going to all the trouble of getting aboard our ship.”

“If you were at a public docking port, that’s the only way they could do it,” Jenks said. “How are they supposed to get fully assembled explosives through security? It’s way easier to bring in the pieces individually and put them together in a closet somewhere. Kedrium has legitimate uses on its own. It’d be easy to sneak through. And the rest of this stuff, it’s just odds and ends.”

“Be happy they made them that way,” Kizzy said. “I wouldn’t have been able to figure ’em out otherwise. They should’ve hired better techs.” She glanced up at the Aeluon soldiers. “Or, I mean, um, hrm.” She grabbed a cookie off a nearby plate and shoved it into her mouth.

Pei tapped her fingers on the table. “You’re sure they’re nowhere else on the ship?”

“Positive,” Oxlen said. “I ran a full scan, after I knew what to look for.”

Pei’s cheeks flooded with colors. Ashby knew that look—hesitancy. “Kizzy. I wish I didn’t have to ask this, but—”

“Yeah, I can do it,” Kizzy said. She looked Ashby right in the eye before he’d even said anything. “I can. I poked at the timer, and they’re set to go off in three days. That’s way more than I need.”

“I don’t doubt that you can do it,” Ashby said. “But just because you took care of one doesn’t mean that the others might not go off.”

“If we do nothing, they’re all going to go off.”

Corbin spoke up from his vantage point by the kitchen counter. “Would that be such a bad thing?” he asked. “This… situation puts all of us at risk. No offense, Captain Tem, but this is not our problem.” Sissix opened her mouth, but Corbin continued. “I’m sure we could drop all of you somewhere where you could find transport back to wherever you’re going. Why not call the ship a loss and let us give you passage? We might even have room for some of your cargo, so long as you prioritize.”

Pei looked to the two soldiers. Their faces erupted with color, shifting fast as a kaleidoscope.

A minute passed. “Um, so…” Kizzy said.

Jenks frowned. “They’re talking, Kizzy.”

“Oh.” She covered her mouth with her hands. “Right.”

Pei exhaled. “Sorry. The trouble is that our cargo is… important. The soldiers feel that if there is a chance of saving all of it, we have to take it.” She met Ashby’s eyes. “And I feel terrible for saying it, but I’m inclined to agree. Not because it’s my ship or because I want to get paid. But what we’re carrying… it could really help. I’m sorry, I…” She glanced at the soldiers. “I can’t explain further than that.”

Ashby looked to Kizzy. “I’m not going to make you do this.”

Kizzy nodded with more composure than Ashby had ever seen in her. “I already said. I can do this.” She picked up the blasting cap. “I was freaking out while I took this one apart. I’m one-hundred-percent chill now. If I could disarm them while I was losing my shit, I can totally do it now.” She smiled at Rosemary, who was biting her lip. “I got this.”

“I’m going with you,” Jenks said. “It’ll go faster with two.”

“No,” Kizzy said. She grew quieter. “Something could still go wrong.”

“All the more reason you need some help.”

“All the more reason you should stay.” She fidgeted with the blasting cap. “If something goes wrong, the Wayfarer still needs a tech.”

Jenks looked hard at her. “Don’t you talk like that.” Everyone at the table could hear him, but there was a soft urgency in his tone that was meant for her ears alone.

“We should move our ships as far apart as possible,” Corbin said. “If something does go awry, we need to make sure our ship is protected.”

Pei nodded. “That’s a wise precaution. My people will stay here while Kizzy deals with the mines. I’ll be going with her.”

“Why?” Ashby said, the word out of his mouth before he’d had time to think. But he wasn’t alone in the sentiment. The other Aeluons’ cheeks flashed with urgency.

“I’ll go,” Tak said. “I’m here to defend this cargo.”

“It’s my ship,” Pei said.

“You’re a civilian.”

“It’s my ship.” Pei leaned forward, colors flaring. Whatever she said, it was enough to make Tak back down. She turned to Kizzy. “I won’t ask someone from another crew to risk something that I’m not prepared to risk myself.” Pei looked to Ashby. “Don’t worry. We see anything we can’t handle, we’ll get out of there fast. I’ll take care of her.”

Ashby sighed and put on the bravest smile he could. “I know you will,” he said. But who will take care of you?

Kizzy stood in front of the open service panel, tools in hand, looking at nothing. Little yellow lights flashed in the dark. They were waiting for her. She didn’t move.

Pei placed a hand on her shoulder. “Finding some courage?”

Kizzy shook her head. “No. I’m good.”

Pei blinked her weird eyelids sideways. “This isn’t that Human thing where you pretend not to be scared, is it?”

“No. Really, I’m good.” She climbed into the wall. Pei followed, hanging back by the access panel. Kizzy made her way to the closest mine. It seemed smaller than the first. She turned on her globulbs and got to work, moving with steady hands and quiet breaths. “Is that a Human thing? Isn’t that something everybody does?”

“Oh, no. It’s a Human thing. See?” She pointed at the colored patches on her finely scaled cheeks.

Kizzy let go of the mine and looked up. “I… don’t know what that means.” She made an apologetic face. “Sorry, I don’t really know any Aeluons.”

“Are they red? Mostly? Maybe a bit of yellow mixed in?”

“Yeah. They’re all, like, swirly.”

“Yep. I’m scared.” She cocked her head. “And I’m curious as to why you’re not.”

Kizzy pursed her lips and looked back down at the armed explosive. “I don’t know. I was super scared when I first found them, but now, it’s not so bad. Nervous, maybe, but no more than, like, working on the outer hull or putting out a circuit fire. There’s a problem, and it’s serious, but I’m fine. I don’t really get why, but there you go.”

“You’ve examined the situation and are confident you can fix it. That makes sense.”

“I guess.” They both fell quiet as Kizzy worked her way around the mine, melting the sealant, snipping the cables. As the blasting cap fell into Kizzy’s hand, Pei audibly exhaled. It was strange, hearing a sound come from her mouth, instead of the talkbox.

“Stars,” Pei said. “I feel so useless, not being able to help, but all the same, I don’t know if I could do that.”

“Really?” Kizzy said, moving up the walkway. “You deal with this kind of shit all the time. Like, guns pointed at your face and bad guys on your ship and all sorts of stuff.”

“Guns and… bad guys, yes. But this”—she nodded toward the mines—“is not the shit I deal with all the time. This is not something I can fix. And that’s what scares me. There are few things as unsettling as a lack of control in an unfamiliar situation.”

Kizzy raised her tools, and silence returned. She crouched to examine the sealant. She frowned, and flipped down one of her magnification lenses. “Ah, shit.”

She could practically hear Pei tense up. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t worry, nothing major.” She squinted, then rolled her eyes. “These hackjob goofballs. They let sealant get into the cable channel.”

“Is that bad?”

“No, it’s just stupid. I’m going to have to melt it on super low heat, so that the kedrium doesn’t get too hot.”

“That’s bad, right?”

“It would be, yeah, but it won’t happen. It’ll take me a long ass time, though. Idiots.” She sighed as she fit the heat awl with a smaller tip, and dialed down the temperature. For a while, they said nothing. Her neck was already feeling cranky from hunching. “Hey, um, listen, I know I don’t know you at all, but can I ask you a question?”

“Considering what you’re doing for my ship, I’d say you have the right to ask whatever you like.”

“Fair enough.” She kept both eyes fixed on the sealant. “Okay, so, the gun thing. We’ve established this is a thing you do a lot.”

“You mean using guns, or having them pointed at me?”

“Both, I guess. I mean more like being in situations where people are angry and also there are guns.”

“I’m not sure that it happens a lot. But more often than for most, perhaps.”

“Enough for you not to be scared of it.”

“I never said that.”

“You did so.”

“I said I was familiar with it. That’s very different.”

“But how do you stop being scared about it? Like, when it’s happening?”

“I don’t understand.”

The top edge of the sealant started to glisten. “Well, you kind of said it was something you can be in control of. I mean, if you’ve got a gun pointed at someone, and they’re returning the favor, you’ve got to be not scared enough to deal with it before they do, right?”

“That’s… not how it works.” Pei paused. “Is this about the Akaraks?”

“You heard about that.”

“I did. Is it still bothering you?”

Kizzy licked her lips. Fuck it. We might be dead in an hour. “I haven’t been able to sleep much since it happened, and I can’t figure out how to talk to my crew about it. And I’m tired, like bone-crunchingly tired, but I get so scared I’ll wake up to strangers pointing guns at me that I can’t sleep. I either have to knock myself out with drops, or work work work until I fall over. And I know it’s stupid. I know what happened to us was a freak thing, and it’ll probably never happen again. But I’m more scared of that than I am of this wall of death I’m staring at right now. I just—I don’t make sense, and I’m kind of pissed at myself about it.” The acrid smell of melting sealant tickled her nose. She poked at the seam with her fingertip. Gooey, but still holding fast. She scowled. “Stars, just melt already.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be spewing this all over you. It must sound so stupid.”

“It doesn’t sound stupid. Though I am wondering why you’re talking to me about it.”

“Because you know about this stuff. I thought maybe… I just want to know how I can live with knowing this kind of shit is out there and not be scared of it.”

Pei said nothing for a moment. “Kizzy, I am scared of everything, all the time. I’m scared of my ship getting shot down when I have to land planetside. I’m scared of the armor in my vest cracking during a fight. I’m scared that the next time I have to pull out my gun, the other guy will be faster. I’m scared of making mistakes that could hurt my crew. I’m scared of leaky biosuits. I’m scared of vegetables that haven’t been washed properly. I’m scared of fish.”

“Fish?”

“You haven’t seen the fish on my home colony. Very thin teeth.”

“But how do you deal with that?”

“With what?”

“Being scared of all that stuff.”

“You mean how is it that I can sleep and you can’t. Is that what you’re asking?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just different for us. We’re different species, after all.” She paused. “Or maybe because I never thought to ask anyone what you’re asking. I never thought of fear as something that can go away. It just is. It reminds me that I want to stay alive. That doesn’t strike me as a bad thing.”

“Hang on, pause,” Kizzy said. Melted sealant began to drip onto the floor. Finally. She took a thin pair of pliers from her belt and tugged the cable through the clear gunk. She flipped down her lenses and examined the blasting cap. Warm, but not enough to cause trouble. She gave a satisfied nod, cut the cable, and wiped the goo off on her pants. “Okay, we’re good.” She looked up the walkway, where little yellow lights sat blinking, waiting. “This might sound weird, but it’s really nice knowing that you’re scared of fish. And all the other stuff.”

Kizzy didn’t have the easiest time reading Pei’s face, but the lady looked amused. “I’m glad, but I’m not sure I understand. I don’t think I answered your question.”

“You did.” She cracked her knuckles and popped off the blasting cap. “I hate that this is the first time we’ve met you. Especially given the circumstances.” She looked back toward Pei. “I know it’s hard for you, but you can come stay with us any time. I can think of a certain Exodan captain who’d like that a lot.”

“I’d like that, too,” Pei said. She was quiet a moment. Her cheeks went orange. “Maybe some time.” She took a breath and nodded toward the walkway. “But first, let’s keep my ship from blowing up.”

Jenks leaned back, letting the weight of the tub of bolts in his arms fall against his chest. Arms aching, he carried the tub out of the freight elevator, down the corridor, and into the Fishbowl. Ashby sat on a garden bench, staring out the window at the speck that was Pei’s ship. Jenks walked around the bench, standing where Ashby could see him.

“Hi,” he said.

Ashby turned his head. “Hi.”

Jenks upturned the tub. The bolts clattered to the floor like heavy rain. “These are several hundred bolts. They are all different shapes and sizes, and Kizzy always keeps them in one communal tub. It drives me crazy.”

Ashby blinked. “Why are they on the floor?”

“Because we are going to sort them. We are going to sort them into nice, neat little piles. And then we’re going to take those piles and put them in smaller tubs, so that when I need a bolt, I don’t have to go digging.”

“I see.” Ashby blinked again. “Why are we doing this?”

“Because some jackass dumped them all over the floor, and they have to be cleaned up. And if they have to be cleaned up, we might as well sort them while we’re at it.” Jenks sat down, leaning comfortably against a planter. He began to pick through the bolts. “See, my best friend in the whole galaxy is currently on another ship, holed up in a wall, disarming hackjob explosives. It’s dark in there, and her fingers are probably sore by now, after tugging at all those little wires, and I’m shitting myself over the possibility of something going wrong, because I seriously do not know what I would do without her. And I can’t help. I can’t do anything. Not one damn thing. I know she’s the best person for this, and I know she doesn’t need my help. But all the same, she’s facing some dangerous shit, and it is completely out of my hands. I want to do something, and it’s driving me fucking crazy that I can’t. I can’t even smoke because there are Aeluons around. So, fine. I’m going to sort bolts.” He swung his eyes up to Ashby. “And I think anybody who has similar feelings should join me.”

Ashby rubbed his beard. “Why?”

Jenks brushed aside a swath of bolts with his hand, clearing a workspace. “Because this is going to take hours, and it’s something to do. And it’s better than staring out a window.”

Ashby sat quiet for a moment. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together in a business-like way. “Are we sorting them by size, or shape?”

“Shape to start. Then we’ll make sub-piles by size.”

“Should I get us some kick?”

“I think that would be best.”

Kizzy and Pei returned to the Wayfarer some two hours later. There had been forty six mines behind the wall, all now in pieces. They’d spaced the kedrium, much to Kizzy’s chagrin, and Pei’d run two more scans of the ship, just to be safe. Kizzy’s hands were aching, and her back was stiff, and her head was pounding from squinting in the dark. She was glad to be back home.

Everybody had jumped all over her when she came through the airlock. Sissix nuzzled her head so hard that her hairdo came loose, and Rosemary got all misty-eyed, and Jenks gave her the best hug ever. Lovey was rambling about how worried she’d been, and even Ohan came down, limping on his weak legs, to give her a respectful bow.

She felt like a hero.

Dr. Chef made an enormous dinner for everybody—red coast bugs and fried spineroots and spicy crunchy salt peas. The Aeluons had been a little weirded out by the bugs at first—red coasters were pests to them, after all—but they warmed up to it, maybe out of novelty more than anything. Everybody was swapping stories and chowing down, and after a while, you could almost kind of forget that in a parallel universe, they all might be dead by then.

There reached a point where both Sissix and Oxlen were looking at the time on their scribs with that frowny we-need-to-get-going look that all pilots got. Everybody said their goodbyes. Kizzy’s heart went to pieces when she saw Pei and Ashby give each other a friendly farewell handshake. Let them make out, dammit! It just wasn’t fair. Oxlen caught her eye and gave her a secret, knowing nod. Huh. Maybe all Aeluons weren’t such prudes, after all.

As the Aeluon ship sailed off, Kizzy excused herself. She took a long shower, giving herself twenty-two minutes instead of the fifteen she demanded of everybody else. She figured she’d earned an extra seven minutes, and the filters could take it. Afterward, she went back to her room. Dr. Chef had left a mug of tea and a couple spring cakes waiting for her. She smiled, put on some comfies, and crawled into bed with her snacks. She wrote a letter to her dads, just to say she loved them. She ate her cakes. She drank her tea. She watched the stars go by. Without meaning to, she slept.