Cleon Moon by Lindsay Buroker

down his kit, and examined her wrist, which was already swelling impressively. Maybe he wouldn’t say anything. Maybe he would simply treat her and keep his judgments to himself.
    “Broken,” he said, and withdrew his auto injector and a painkiller to load into it.
    Leonidas closed his eyes at this pronouncement, his face bleaker than death.
    After the shot, Alejandro tugged out a medical netdisc and programmed a batch of nanobots for repairs. He gave her a second shot, this one burning as the microscopic critters charged into her bloodstream. She braced herself for the itching that would follow. At least the painkiller was having a pleasantly numbing effect.
    Alejandro dug into his kit again, retrieving an auto-molding bandage. He wrapped it around her wrist and sealed it, the cool material turning into a semi-rigid brace.
    “You’ll need to wear that for a couple of days while the nanobots work,” he said, straightening.
    “At least it’s my left hand.” Alisa had no intention of delaying her journey out to find that Starseer outpost. She glanced at the clock built into the wall. It was only an hour until dawn, so she might as well stay up and get ready.
    Alejandro grunted again and grabbed his kit.
    Alisa thought he might leave without any comments, but on his way past Leonidas, he shook his head and muttered, “Maybe this is why the empire neuters its cyborgs.”
    Leonidas clenched his jaw, anger hardening his eyes, and for a moment, she worried he might strike Alejandro. But he didn’t move, not even a twitch, as Alejandro brushed past him and out of the cabin. He merely glared at the wall, the anger solely for himself.
    “Leonidas,” Alisa said, pushing herself to her feet. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
    “Who’s ready to go looking for civilized people?” a cheerful voice called from the corridor. Abelardus. “And by that I mean Starseers, of course. Beck?” Abelardus banged on a hatch. “You making grub for our trip? Who’s coming?”
    Down in the cargo hold, the chickens squawked, protesting the banging.
    Alisa sighed. Yes, she might as well get ready. She ought to be the one out there rounding everyone up. This was her mission, and anyone she could talk into coming along would be doing so to help her.
    “We’ll talk later,” she said and patted Leonidas on the stomach as she headed for the hatchway. He was still standing, stiff as a board—a very angry board.
    “Alisa,” he said quietly.
    She paused, looking back.
    “There is nothing for you to be sorry about. That was my fault. And unforgivable.”
    “No, it wasn’t. It’s my fault that my massage was so amazing that it made you fall asleep.” She smiled at him, because smiles were better than tears or anger. Besides, something worse than a broken wrist could have happened. She’d gotten off easy.
    “Alisa,” he said, drawing out the syllables, his tone anguished.
    “I knew I should have left, and I didn’t,” she said, more serious. He wouldn’t appreciate flippancy now. “My fault. It won’t happen again.”
    The words did nothing to alleviate the anguish on his face, and she realized what she was saying, that she would never fall asleep next to him again. Was that what she wanted to say? No, there had to be a solution. They would find something. Maybe that admiral that he wanted to kidnap would know about nightmares as well as cyborg penises. They would figure something out. She had to believe that.
    She started to walk out, but a black-robed chest got in her way as Abelardus leaned into the cabin. “Cyborg, are you—”
    He stopped, frowning down at Alisa in surprise. He must not have expected to find her in here. At least she knew he had been sleeping or getting ready and hadn’t been spying on her last night with his Starseer skills. Of course, he would probably poke into her head quickly now and find out what had happened. She didn’t want comments from him, any more than she did from Alejandro.
    Hoping