CHAPTER 13
Hell is two weeks on a ship with
an infant.
If you don’t believe
me, try it. By the end of week one, I’m ready to space both
Koratati and her squalling bundle of pee. Dina says there’s nothing
wrong with the little rotter; that’s just what babies do.
To make things easier
for the new mother, we’ve instigated a rotating care schedule. This
wasn’t my idea, by the way. I eventually caved to majority rule,
but I did so with poor grace and a lot of mumbling.
I manage to keep my
sanity on this straight haul by hiding out. There are six crew
rooms. March and I snag the largest one, probably intended for the
captain. Surge and Kora share another, while Dina, Jael, and Vel
each claim their own. The galley’s on the other side of the ship.
That leaves one room vacant, just before the maintenance closet
with the hatch leading down to the holds.
I fill this space
with spare chairs from storage and other odds and ends to make it
more of a sitting room. The bunk can recess completely into the
wall, making my job easier. Mostly I’m waiting to hear from Doc,
but the satellites are old and tetchy out here. I’ll be lucky to
get anything before we make Emry Station.
I tend to hunker down
in there when the kid is crying because there’s more metal between
us. Sometimes it helps, but you’d be surprised how that racket
carries. When all the doors stand open, it’s an acoustic
nightmare.
Sometimes my esteemed
crewmates join me, like I need company. I’m quite occupied with
feeling sorry for myself, thanks. I had a great-aunt whose main
hobby included reading about strange diseases and then trying to
match her symptoms to whatever exotic ailment took her fancy. Based
on my depressive behavior this week, I suspect I may have more in
common with my great-aunt Tallia than I would’ve previously
guessed.
Today Jael joins me.
He’s just come in and doesn’t seem inclined to let me brood. With a
faint sigh, I put 245 aside. People never understand why I talk to
my PA, an ongoing experiment of sorts. Her AI chip seems incredibly
sophisticated, and the more we interact, the more she learns,
adapting her communication style to mirror my own. This fascinates
me.
“Are you busy?”
Without an audience, he sheds most of his bravado, and in an oddly
tentative movement, he occupies a chair opposite where I
sit.
“I guess not. What’s
up?”
“People always treat
me different,” he says. “After they find out. You haven’t. So I’m
wondering why.”
I figure he’s talking
about his origins in the Ideal Genome Project. “This is pretty
basic, but . . . it’s because I don’t care.”
The Corp implemented
the program shortly before I was born. They offered designer babies
for a premium price, and a few wealthy families took advantage of
it. They used the profit margin to fund a side research project,
seeking to perfect the human condition. Forget antiaging
treatments; they wanted to develop bodies that don’t age, don’t
suffer from illness, and require reduced amounts of rest.
Few of their Bred
experiments survived to adulthood, and the Corp officially shut the
program down after religious outcry that outweighed any theoretical
value. Who can say what went on behind closed doors? Or what became
of lab babies like the one sitting across from me? He’s the first
I’ve ever met.
Jael looks puzzled.
“You don’t care as in . . . you’re disinterested? Or you don’t care
as in . . . it doesn’t matter to you?”
“Both?” Yeah, it’s
definitely both.
Why does that
intrigue him? He sits forward in his chair, hands clasped across
his knees. “I don’t get you.”
Great. He’s
interested because I’m not? Men.
“You don’t have to
get me. In fact I’d rather you didn’t since you’re disembarking
next week, and I’ll never see your face again.”
“Nope.” He shakes his
head. “I already spoke to March, and he said I can stay. You don’t
have a gunner, and I know this ship’s weapons better than anyone
else.”
Now why didn’t March
tell me that?
“What do you think
will happen on Emry?” I steer the conversation away from personal
topics. At this point I’m not interested in playing mother
confessor, nor in soothing the scrapes on his soul. Plus I think
it’s possible we may need weapons to cow the fools playing at
resistance out here.
As long as nobody
questions it, they can call themselves autonomous. And the
Conglomerate is notorious for taking forever to determine a course
of action. I’m amazed we got clearance to head for Ithiss-Tor so
fast; we probably have Tarn to thank for that.
Jael gives the
question due consideration. “Hard to say. Best to play it by ear
once we get on station and see how they’re running things. I don’t
think they’ve officially declared that they won’t honor a ship’s
request for aid as yet. They’re waiting to hear from the
Conglomerate.”
“It’ll get messy,” I
predict. “The Conglomerate will say, ‘Fine, if you’re autonomous,
you’re also self-supporting, so you can pay for your own supplies,
pay for station repairs on your own,’ and so on.”
“I wonder if they’ve
thought of that.”
I shrug. “Probably
not. They’re Corp wage slaves. This is the first burst of
independent thought they’ve enjoyed in a while. One can’t blame
them for being rusty. But if that threat doesn’t work, then Tarn
might send armed enforcers to clean the place out.”
“The Corp would’ve
just blown the place up and built a new one,” he says.
“Like they did DuPont
Station?”
“I heard about that.
They were looking for you, weren’t
they?”
“Yeah. Big scary
terrorist, that’s me.”
He snorts. “You don’t
look so tough.”
Well, he’s right. At
the moment I feel like the baby could snap me like a twig. It’s not
a good idea to reveal your weaknesses, however.
“Appearances can be
deceiving.”
The man flinches like
I hit a raw nerve. “I know that’s right.”
“Aw, don’t tell me
people think you’re pretty but dumb. That must really sting.” This
conversation is finally getting interesting. “Do they suggest you
should be in vids or wearing clothes professionally?”
“Bitch.”
Dina sweeps into the
room in time to hear the invective. “Making new friends, are you,
Jax?”
I flash her a grin.
“You know, with a winning personality like I’ve got—”
“We’ll have ten
different factions trying to kill us again within a week or two,”
she interjects.
“Ten? That seems a
little on the high side, even for me.”
“I figure we’ve
already got the Syndicate. The Ithtorians, who don’t really want to
receive us in the first place and so aren’t going to be happy with
this delay. The folks on Lachion are going to be wondering where we
are, too . . . so that’s three already.”
“You think Keri would
hunt me down? I thought she kinda liked me by the time we left last
time.”
“No, she enjoyed
beating the shit out of you.”
Wearing an expression
of tentative amusement, Jael listens to us banter. It seems like he
wants to join in but isn’t quite sure whether he’s allowed. I don’t
tell him that picking on me is practically an official pastime
around here.
But she’s brought me
a mug of hot choclaste. My brow arches even as I accept the
offering. I can’t help peering into the cup with suspicion.
“Did you pee in
it?”
“Of course not.” Dina
waits until I’ve taken a sip before adding, “The baby did.”
I manage not to give
her the satisfaction of spluttering. “Mmm. I thought it had a
special something.”
“You’re nasty, you
know that?” She shakes her head.
“Did March send you?”
The question comes out loaded.
When her gaze meets
mine, I see that she’s figured it out. I thought staying out of
sight would be enough until I figured this thing out. Shit. I don’t
think I’ll be able to handle it if Dina starts being nice to me.
Treats me like an invalid.
“What did I miss?”
Jael glances between us, sensing subtext. He really is smarter than
he looks. That just might keep him alive with this crew.
“Nothing,” I answer
before Dina can. “Okay, you did me a favor. Now what do you want in
return?”
She pins on a smile
that troubles me. Mary curse it, she’s worried about me. “It’s your
turn to watch the brat.”
“Oh, it most
certainly is not. I just—” I trail off because it’s been days. I
hoped if I stayed out of sight, people would forget.
This “team”
child-care thing sucks. I’ve never been near an infant so young
before. The kids I cared for on Gehenna were all toddling, at
least, which gets you a whole different set of problems.
I down the choclaste
in one gulp. “Fine. But any longer than two hours, and I’m not
responsible for what may happen. Wars have been started over
less.”
“Don’t worry, it’s
Jael’s turn after yours. I’m sure he won’t forget.”
“As if I’d let him,”
I mutter, heading for the door.
