apartment. Batra’s feet were bare; Dalal had taken Batra’s ruined sandals and promised others before they left. The carpet was soft against her battered soles and Batra paused a moment, enjoying the sensation.
Ahead, in the back room, she heard Dalal’s voice, low but very clear: “... might as well take out an advert, the two of you traipsing around like that. Why’d you bring her?”
Then, Halak, his voice weak: “She followed me. I don’t know how.”
Batra froze.
Dalal again: “You trust her?”
“To a certain point.” A pause. “I don’t know what she would do.”
Do? Batra’s fingers tightened around the basin. Do about what?
“What does she know?” Halak must’ve responded with some gesture because Dalal continued, her voice angry, “That’s no answer, boy. They knew where to find you.”
“What do you want me to say, Dalal? Ani knows what they all know. As for finding me ... all they had to do was check the passenger manifest.”
“Which they wouldn’t know to check less’n they were tipped off somehow.”
“And you don’t think they keep tabs on you?”
“None of your lip. They’ve no cause to bother me.”
“Just your being alive is reason enough to ...” Halak’s voice dropped, and Batra strained to hear. She caught the last part. “... anyway, if not for Ani ...”
“You’d be dead.” Dalal made an impatient, old woman sound. “Your Starfleet’s made you careless, coming here the way you did. Where are your wits?”
“Dalal, I came .” Halak sounded very weary. “You called. I came. So why don’t you finish bandaging me up and then ...”
Batra heard a rustle of clothing, a slight grunt as Dalal got to her feet. “Where is that girl with the water?” Dalal’s voice was corning closer to the hall, and Batra heard the shush of the woman’s slippers. “She should ...”
Quickly, Batra covered the last few meters to the room just as Dalal shuffled into the hall. “Sorry,” she said, giving the old woman a tight smile, and the basin. “I waited until it had cooled down a little. It was scalding hot.”
She made a show of peering around the woman’s shoulders. “Is he awake yet?”
“Just now,” said Dalal, with an abrupt jerk of her head. Her lips were set in a thin, suspicious line, and Batra saw the woman’s black gaze drift to Batra’s bare feet.
“Oh, good,” said Batra, hurrying past. She crossed to Halak’s side and dropped to her knees. Her hands reached for his left, and their fingers laced. “How are you?”
Halak was still on his stomach, the cloth Dalal used to clean him draped over his skin, covering the wound. His color was off; he looked ashen and worn. But when he saw Batra, his lips curled into a tired smile. “I should ask the same of you,” he said. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” said Batra, knowing he was right. Her long black hair was matted with blood and mud. Her new pantaloons were ruined. She knew she’d never get them clean, and she wasn’t really sure she would ever wear them again even if she could. Long scratches scored the skin of her waist, where one of the men had fumbled for her pouch; from his nails, she guessed.
“No,” said Halak. “Thank you. If it hadn’t been for you ...”
“Samir.” She felt tears sting the back of her eyelids. Her resolve not to question him crumbled. “Samir, who were those men? You acted as if you knew them.”
“No,” he said, and his voice carried conviction. “I’ve never seen them before in my life.”
Her heart sank. She watched his face to see if there was anything that gave away the lie but saw nothing. Or, maybe, technically, he was telling the truth—he’d never seen them.
“But I heard you,” she said. “Why else would they attack us?”
“Money.”
“No, that’s too simple. You rob someone, you don’t stick around to bully them. And they talked to you, I heard ...”
Dalal cut in. “That’s enough of that.” She squared the basin
Ahead, in the back room, she heard Dalal’s voice, low but very clear: “... might as well take out an advert, the two of you traipsing around like that. Why’d you bring her?”
Then, Halak, his voice weak: “She followed me. I don’t know how.”
Batra froze.
Dalal again: “You trust her?”
“To a certain point.” A pause. “I don’t know what she would do.”
Do? Batra’s fingers tightened around the basin. Do about what?
“What does she know?” Halak must’ve responded with some gesture because Dalal continued, her voice angry, “That’s no answer, boy. They knew where to find you.”
“What do you want me to say, Dalal? Ani knows what they all know. As for finding me ... all they had to do was check the passenger manifest.”
“Which they wouldn’t know to check less’n they were tipped off somehow.”
“And you don’t think they keep tabs on you?”
“None of your lip. They’ve no cause to bother me.”
“Just your being alive is reason enough to ...” Halak’s voice dropped, and Batra strained to hear. She caught the last part. “... anyway, if not for Ani ...”
“You’d be dead.” Dalal made an impatient, old woman sound. “Your Starfleet’s made you careless, coming here the way you did. Where are your wits?”
“Dalal, I came .” Halak sounded very weary. “You called. I came. So why don’t you finish bandaging me up and then ...”
Batra heard a rustle of clothing, a slight grunt as Dalal got to her feet. “Where is that girl with the water?” Dalal’s voice was corning closer to the hall, and Batra heard the shush of the woman’s slippers. “She should ...”
Quickly, Batra covered the last few meters to the room just as Dalal shuffled into the hall. “Sorry,” she said, giving the old woman a tight smile, and the basin. “I waited until it had cooled down a little. It was scalding hot.”
She made a show of peering around the woman’s shoulders. “Is he awake yet?”
“Just now,” said Dalal, with an abrupt jerk of her head. Her lips were set in a thin, suspicious line, and Batra saw the woman’s black gaze drift to Batra’s bare feet.
“Oh, good,” said Batra, hurrying past. She crossed to Halak’s side and dropped to her knees. Her hands reached for his left, and their fingers laced. “How are you?”
Halak was still on his stomach, the cloth Dalal used to clean him draped over his skin, covering the wound. His color was off; he looked ashen and worn. But when he saw Batra, his lips curled into a tired smile. “I should ask the same of you,” he said. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” said Batra, knowing he was right. Her long black hair was matted with blood and mud. Her new pantaloons were ruined. She knew she’d never get them clean, and she wasn’t really sure she would ever wear them again even if she could. Long scratches scored the skin of her waist, where one of the men had fumbled for her pouch; from his nails, she guessed.
“No,” said Halak. “Thank you. If it hadn’t been for you ...”
“Samir.” She felt tears sting the back of her eyelids. Her resolve not to question him crumbled. “Samir, who were those men? You acted as if you knew them.”
“No,” he said, and his voice carried conviction. “I’ve never seen them before in my life.”
Her heart sank. She watched his face to see if there was anything that gave away the lie but saw nothing. Or, maybe, technically, he was telling the truth—he’d never seen them.
“But I heard you,” she said. “Why else would they attack us?”
“Money.”
“No, that’s too simple. You rob someone, you don’t stick around to bully them. And they talked to you, I heard ...”
Dalal cut in. “That’s enough of that.” She squared the basin
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