Grimspace by Ann Aguirre Page A

only one who feels that way because the Dahlgren clansmen trickle out in twos and threes, and even Doc shifts his weight on the balls of his feet.
    I clear my throat. “Breakfast?”
    Even though I direct the question to nobody in particular, Loras pushes away from the wall and beckons me. I fall in step beside him as he says, “I’ll show you to the dining hall. There’s usually something laid out for another hour or so.”
    â€œCommunal meals?” I can’t imagine the workload that must mean for the cooks. Unless…“Do they have food processors?”
    â€œThe lesser clans, no. Some are astonishingly low-tech, but this one has done well. There are even bots in charge of cleaning and maintenance here.”
    That remark reminds me of my cell AI, and my mouth tightens. “Fantastic. Can we expect…Oh, that smells good.”
    Something sweet and smooth is brewing. I know the scent, I’ve had it once before—it’s a hot drink that goes into your veins like pure chem, leaves you bouncing until you crash. I seem to remember it’s highly addictive. There’s also the aroma of honeyed pastries, fried s-meat, and some kind of fruit, a sharp, succulent tang. We come into a large open room with a couple of bots circulating, ostensibly keeping track of the food laid out on a long table. It’s a well-lit space with windows on three walls, arrayed with round tables.
    I make myself a sandwich out of the meat and the sweetbread while Loras looks on in horrified astonishment. “I don’t think you’re supposed to…”
    Shrugging, I say, “It gets the job done,” and take an enormous bite.
    Actually it’s better than I expected, this blend of sweet and savory. He sighs and fastidiously selects some fruit. We’ve almost finished by the time the crew catches up with us. I’m drinking a cup of the dark, pungent stuff that will probably make me jittery; the taste is a little difficult to pin down, but it seems to have a trace of choclaste.
    I don’t know what happens next.
    But as March drops down in the chair opposite me with a smile, I’m pretty sure I’m not going to like it.

CHAPTER 15
    â€œYou’re serious,” I say, after hearing what they have in mind.
    March nods. “That’s the plan.”
    Doc looks faintly apologetic, as if he suspected what my reaction would be. And if he supposed I’d be horrified at the thought of a ten-planet tour, all in different quadrants, without scheduled R&R, well, he’d be right. That doesn’t even factor in the expectation of recruiting unregistered J-gene carriers for our as-yet-fictitious academy. And what about the gray men hunting me? The minute I’m ret-scanned in any Corp way station, they’re going to dispatch the nearest unit.
    With some effort, I manage to make myself sound reasonable and not just start ranting, my first impulse. “Look, first, you’re talking about a really long haul. I’ve always had plenty of rest between jumps, and we don’t know what our timetable will be. I have no idea what this could do to me.”
    Dina leans forward, elbows on the table. “It kills you.”
    Something in her gray eyes tells me she’s talking about Edaine. And I won’t go there with her right now, though I know I’m not the reason the other jumper pushed herself so hard. She might’ve made her last flight as a sacrifice for me, but I didn’t cause her total burnout. That decision was hers, and I’m just a convenient source of expiation.
    â€œEverybody dies,” I answer. “It’s just a matter of when and whether you do anything worthwhile beforehand.” But I don’t take it any further, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s a concession. Instead, I ask, “What am I supposed to say anyway? ‘Come join our renegade training facility. No, we don’t have anything built