him by my side to let even one slip by now.
So I tap my wrist. "Constance, where's March?"
"Searching," she tells me. There's a brief delay of a few seconds, then: "I have located him in the officers' lounge on station. Shall I contact him for you?"
"No, I can do that." Well, I could if I wanted to. I think I'll surprise him. Looks like I have one last thing to do before I get some shut-eye.
"As you prefer, Sirantha Jax. I will return to my research now."
There's no end to her usefulness. Smiling, I make my way off the ship, through docking and into the corridors. Once, these halls were dark, guttering lights overhead, loose wires hanging. I remember the sickly sweet smell and the bodies. A little shiver rolls through me. Even with all the changes, it's still hard for me to be here by myself. More images fight to the forefront of my brain.
My knees feel like they're melting. Vel jerks me upright and gives me a shake that rattles my teeth in my head. When that doesn't help a whole lot, he slaps me full across the face. That stings enough that I try to fight back.
And that's when the things drop down from the ceiling.
My head spins too much to count them. When Vel knocks me flat, I have the sense to stay down, though the blow feels like it may have cracked a few ribs. Ironically, the pain clears my head to some degree.
I try to breathe through my shirt, and that helps a little, too. On my belly, I crawl along the floor, taking refuge behind a crate of machine parts. The fighting seems blurred and distant, too far away for where I'm hiding.
My vision can't be relied upon. I hear March swearing steadily as he fires. He's taken cover somewhere nearby. I hear the wet, splattering sound of the disruptor rearranging meat. The Morgut don't scream when they die; they keen.
Without March, it's harder to battle the memory back. I can still see the blood-spattered room and the monstrous Morgut with their bulging bodies and multiple hinged limbs. I'm safe, I tell myself. Safe. Now, keep moving. Officers' lounge. I know where that is. Everyone else seems to be asleep by now or at least retired to quarters, so I don't pass anyone as I make my way through the station. It's eerily silent, and I find myself making a game of trying to keep my footfalls quiet. That's why I can hear the voices long before I reach my destination.
I realize March isn't alone. Most likely I should stride up and announce myself--that, or back away before they know I'm here. But when I hear Hon's bass rumble in response, I decide I'm going to do neither. Instead, I slip a little closer and lean against the wall, waiting for March to answer.
"Sometimes, it's like I think she'll be back."
"It's hard," Hon says. "Back on DuPont, I didn't know. I would've said something. She was a good kid, your sister. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to Shan."
That strikes a chord. I remember the glass dancer from Hon's Kingdom, a woman Hon didn't introduce me to. Though she doesn't favor the pirate, they share the same aura of absolute confidence. It makes sense he wouldn't want his enemies to know about her; she's a weakness. I wonder where she is now.
March makes a wry sound. "I know. But it wasn't like I was going to come in on a line like, 'Be nice to me for a change; I'm bereaved.' "
Hon laughs. "For a change? Who mistreats who again?"
"Frankly, I figure we're about even."
"I guess so. You said . . ." Hon's tone gains a delicacy I wouldn't have credited. "You want to talk about her?"
"It's more accurate to say I want to hear you talk about her. Tell me everything you know." Longing fills his voice--and I understand now how he feels about Kai. Oh, it's not the same kind of love; I understand that, but for the first time, I grasp fully that there's a hole in him I can never completely fill.
"Well, I never took her to my bed, so there's a limit to how accurate I can be." I can hear the smile in the pirate's voice.
A thwack as March hits him.
"All
So I tap my wrist. "Constance, where's March?"
"Searching," she tells me. There's a brief delay of a few seconds, then: "I have located him in the officers' lounge on station. Shall I contact him for you?"
"No, I can do that." Well, I could if I wanted to. I think I'll surprise him. Looks like I have one last thing to do before I get some shut-eye.
"As you prefer, Sirantha Jax. I will return to my research now."
There's no end to her usefulness. Smiling, I make my way off the ship, through docking and into the corridors. Once, these halls were dark, guttering lights overhead, loose wires hanging. I remember the sickly sweet smell and the bodies. A little shiver rolls through me. Even with all the changes, it's still hard for me to be here by myself. More images fight to the forefront of my brain.
My knees feel like they're melting. Vel jerks me upright and gives me a shake that rattles my teeth in my head. When that doesn't help a whole lot, he slaps me full across the face. That stings enough that I try to fight back.
And that's when the things drop down from the ceiling.
My head spins too much to count them. When Vel knocks me flat, I have the sense to stay down, though the blow feels like it may have cracked a few ribs. Ironically, the pain clears my head to some degree.
I try to breathe through my shirt, and that helps a little, too. On my belly, I crawl along the floor, taking refuge behind a crate of machine parts. The fighting seems blurred and distant, too far away for where I'm hiding.
My vision can't be relied upon. I hear March swearing steadily as he fires. He's taken cover somewhere nearby. I hear the wet, splattering sound of the disruptor rearranging meat. The Morgut don't scream when they die; they keen.
Without March, it's harder to battle the memory back. I can still see the blood-spattered room and the monstrous Morgut with their bulging bodies and multiple hinged limbs. I'm safe, I tell myself. Safe. Now, keep moving. Officers' lounge. I know where that is. Everyone else seems to be asleep by now or at least retired to quarters, so I don't pass anyone as I make my way through the station. It's eerily silent, and I find myself making a game of trying to keep my footfalls quiet. That's why I can hear the voices long before I reach my destination.
I realize March isn't alone. Most likely I should stride up and announce myself--that, or back away before they know I'm here. But when I hear Hon's bass rumble in response, I decide I'm going to do neither. Instead, I slip a little closer and lean against the wall, waiting for March to answer.
"Sometimes, it's like I think she'll be back."
"It's hard," Hon says. "Back on DuPont, I didn't know. I would've said something. She was a good kid, your sister. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to Shan."
That strikes a chord. I remember the glass dancer from Hon's Kingdom, a woman Hon didn't introduce me to. Though she doesn't favor the pirate, they share the same aura of absolute confidence. It makes sense he wouldn't want his enemies to know about her; she's a weakness. I wonder where she is now.
March makes a wry sound. "I know. But it wasn't like I was going to come in on a line like, 'Be nice to me for a change; I'm bereaved.' "
Hon laughs. "For a change? Who mistreats who again?"
"Frankly, I figure we're about even."
"I guess so. You said . . ." Hon's tone gains a delicacy I wouldn't have credited. "You want to talk about her?"
"It's more accurate to say I want to hear you talk about her. Tell me everything you know." Longing fills his voice--and I understand now how he feels about Kai. Oh, it's not the same kind of love; I understand that, but for the first time, I grasp fully that there's a hole in him I can never completely fill.
"Well, I never took her to my bed, so there's a limit to how accurate I can be." I can hear the smile in the pirate's voice.
A thwack as March hits him.
"All
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