CHAPTER THREE
REBECCA
Rebecca had hoped for a soaker tub with jets and bubbles, but she accepted the shower. The water was hot enough to slough away dirt and grime, and the feeling of the Dorian’s skin under hers. Combined with the fruit filling her belly, Rebecca felt cheerful enough to hum to herself.
Small joys, she reminded herself. That’s what keeps me going.
She lathered up twice while she listened to Farrah prattle away and ask questions.
“Doesn’t the water dry out your skin? We Ennoi use oil. We use the water shower for cargo and to wash Min,” Farrah said. “She gets fluffy after!”
Min resembled a six-legged yak, drooled too much, and smelled like a musty basement, but Rebecca was beyond caring. Clean is clean. She smiled at the girl’s pride in her pet. “She seemed very gentle.”
“She’s going to have babies soon, you know,” Farrah said.
“Really?” The girl had a lot to say. Rebecca wondered how often she got to speak to another living soul.
“Mm-hmm. Min is a Stillian Koedeer. They don’t have Avowed like Ennoi do. Do Humans Avow?”
Rebecca waited, but her translator didn’t fill in the word. “I don’t know what that is,” she confessed, scrubbing at her scalp.
“You don’t?” Farrah sounded shocked. “Avowed are very important for Ennoi. My papa and my mama were Avowed. That meant they were in love and meant to be together forever. Min doesn’t have an Avowed. But she will be a good mother. I just know it.”
Rebecca scraped dirt out from under her fingernails, thrilled to be done with the smells of New Trades. “Where’s your mother now?”
“She’s dead,” Farrah said.
Rebecca froze. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s okay. It happened when she gave birth to me. I don’t remember her, but it still makes Papa sad. That’s why he takes the medicine.” The girl scrunched up her face. “Te-man-zyme. That’s the name of the medicine.”
Jeez, this kid has no filters.
Rebecca turned off the water, and let her hair drip as she pondered Farrah’s words. “Your father is sad so he take medicine to feel better?” Anti-depressants, or is he taking the hard stuff?
“He would die without the medicine. Of a broken heart.” Farrah added, with a sigh. “I don’t want him to die.” Before Rebecca could say anything, Farrah spoke. “Do you think Min will die while giving birth?”
“No, I think she’s a strong animal.”
“Papa is strong, too.”
“Yes, he most certainly is,” Rebecca said softly. She rubbed her skin dry with a towel the size of a blanket. You’d need a whole lot of towel to cover all that man. She flushed. Farrah spoke about her father’s broken heart, and Rebecca’s brain filled with dirty thoughts.
Farrah loaned her a flight suit. They were a bit short in the legs and arms, and a little tight across the chest, but they were heaven after the gross Dorian overalls she’d worn on New Trades. Before that, she’d been in a tunic, or mostly naked. No, the suit was dandy.
“Come on,” Farrah said once Rebecca dressed. “I want to check on Min. Maybe the babies are coming now!”
Farrah took off down the hallway, her dress shimmering in the low light. Rebecca followed after, taking her time. She didn’t want to see Verdan again. While she’d been dirty and desperate, she’d jumped at the opportunity to leave New Trades. Now, sitting on a ship headed to who knew where, her nerves were starting to build again.
From the frying pan, into the fire.
Rebecca shook her head. She couldn’t think like that. It wasn’t the way a woman survived. She shouldn’t mope. She should focus on how to get Verdan to appreciate her being on board.
Lost in thought, Rebecca nearly missed the low curse coming from an ajar door. Farrah was further down, singing a lullaby about hairy babies.
“Come, Rebecca!”
“I’ll catch up with you later,” she responded. Farrah kept going.
Rebecca peeked in the door. Verdan leaned against a box, his back a curve and his fists pressed against the metal container. The muscles along his arms stood out like cords of wire. Scales along his shoulders moved, opening and closing like leaves in a breeze. A fine sheen of sweat dotted his brow.
He grunted and cursed again, driving his fist into the box with a solid thunk.
She shouldn’t be here.
“Verdan?”
He looked up, and for a second, Rebecca wanted to run from the pain in his eyes, and from the fangs he bared. Then, he blinked rapidly. The fluttering scales settled.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Wh-what do you want?” His voice grated like stone on iron.
In for a penny, she thought, bracing herself. Be useful.
She stepped into the room, taking in the jumble of boxes, many tipped on their sides. “This room is a mess.”
Verdan rolled his eyes at her. “Pardon me. My deepest apologies on the condition of my storage chamber. I left New Trades with alacrity. No time to secure the load.”
Rebecca ran a hand over one of the containers. “Is this your cargo?”
His eyes followed her as she crossed the room. “Yes. I haul freight.” He thumped a box with his fist again, but this time for emphasis. “These contain sheets of fabric.”
“For clothes?”
“For shrouds,” he said. “These are destined for a planet scoured by plague.”
Rebecca snatched her hand back. “Funeral attire? That’s morbid.”
Verdan shrugged.
“So what’s got you in a tizzy?”
“Pardon?”
“What’s the problem?” she clarified.
“I’m short on inventory.” He ran a hand over his hair. “With this mess, I can’t tell how short.”
She saw her chance. “I’ll help!”
That made him bark with laughter. “How?”
“You move them. I’ll count and tally.”
He tilted his head. “Can you read Ennoi?”
“No,” she said, “But I can count in Human. We can translate once we’re done.”
Verdan eyed out the nearest box, and then shook his head. “Fine. I must concede that I am in no condition for physical labour. I shall have to pull out the mech.”
“What’s that?”
The mech suit resembled a metal skeleton. Verdan explained how, once he stepped inside, it adjusted to his body, allowing him to carry more weight than would be typical.
“A simple machine,” he said. “Invaluable when hauling ore.” He sneered at the containers. “This should be done by my hand alone. With this suit Farrah, or even you, could lift these boxes.”
“Really? I want to try it.” She hoped the expression on his face wasn’t stark disbelief, but for some reason, she knew it was. “I can do it. I’m no stranger to the mechanical. I don’t mean to brag, but back on Earth, I could drive a stick shift.”
“I do not know what that means.”
“Trust me,” she said, stepping up to the mech suit. “It was a big deal.”
With a shrug, Verdan showed her the controls. He smelled like cinnamon. Warm and spicy. Despite his distracting closeness, Rebecca did her best to focus. Within a few minutes, she was hauling boxes around, a grin on her face at the ease with which the machine moved. The machine hummed, and Rebecca hummed along with it, enjoying the sensation of being clean, full, and productive.
“See? No biggie,” she said, grinning at Verdan.
To her surprise, he merely grunted back. She stopped and took in his glassy expression. His eyes were like opals, lit with a swirling fire within, but his mouth hung open, slack.
“You don’t look so…” She wanted to say hot, but the thought of saying that to Verdan brought a blush to her cheeks. “Good. You don’t look so good.”
“M’fine,” he mumbled.
“Did you catch the plague?” She gestured at the fabric.
“Your logic is faulty. Haven’t been there yet. Ennoi cannot catch xorthian illnesses.”
Rebecca tilted her head. “That why you’re okay with taking your kid to this plague planet? R-333?”
Verdan shook his head in irritation. “R-333 is the stop before. Farrah will remain on the ship.”
“Hmm, like she did on New Trades?”
“By all that is sacred, stop talking!”
Whatever response Rebecca would have made was drowned out by his groan. He leaned against a container, and dropped his head into his hands.
“Maybe you should go get some rest,” Rebecca said, preparing for an argument.
Instead, he dropped the lumis onto a nearby box and staggered out, swaying as he went.
“Guess I’ll carry and tally, too,” Rebecca said. “It’s not like I have anything better to do with my life.”
She was shifting boxes when Farrah stuck her head in the door. “Where’s Papa?”
“He’s taking a nap,” Rebecca answered. I hope. “Since you’re here, you can help.”
Farrah slipped in and sat on a box. She picked up the lumis and as Rebecca sorted, she typed in details. With Farrah’s help, the task sped up. Rebecca could stay in the suit, and since Farrah could read Ennoi, she listed the contents of each box in the database.
“There,” Rebecca said, moving one final row. “That’s the last box.”
“Silk, cerulean blue,” Farrah read. “One box.”
She dropped the lumis into her lap, and watched Rebecca slide the containers into the spot she’d left for them.
“I wish I could do that.” The Ennoi girl sounded wistful.
“I bet you could learn,” Rebecca responded.
“Papa won’t let me.” Farrah rested her chin on her fists.
“Why not?” Rebecca powered down the suit and climbed out.
“He says it’s too dangerous.” Farrah sighed. “He says everything fun is too dangerous.”
Rebecca thought for a moment. “Well,” she said slowly, “I could teach you. I mean, if your father had help on the ship, he wouldn’t have to do all this work by himself.” Maybe he wouldn’t look so haggard, either.
“You could?” Farrah hopped to her feet. “I’d love to learn!”
“Now hold on,” Rebecca said, raising her hands. “I’m not going to let you haul freight.”
“Please?” Farrah’s opaline eyes shimmered. “You owe me, remember?”
“I-I guess I don’t see the harm in showing you the controls.” Rebecca bit her lip. “But nothing tricky, okay?”
As Rebecca walked Farrah through, she had to admire the girl’s enthusiasm and quick mind.
“Can I take it for a walk?” Farrah asked.
“Ugh, fine,” Rebecca said. “Just around the room. No lifting!”
Farrah led the machine in a stroll around the room. The glee on her face soon had Rebecca grinning.
“This is amazing!” Farrah said. She cranked up the power to the suit, and the mechanical skeleton began to move faster. “Look! I can dance!”
Rebecca’s smile faded. “Hang on, Farrah, that’s too much.”
The machine twirled around as Farrah squealed with delight. The thick metal legs slammed down into the floor with hollow thumps. The rotor’s whine grew high pitched and frantic.
Verdan burst into the room. “What’s going on in here?”
“Look, Papa! Look at what I can do!”
“Slow down!” Verdan yelled. He lunged for the controls, but Farrah danced away, laughing.
“You can’t catch me!” she crowed.
“I said stop!” he roared.
The machine powered down, slumping into lifelessness. Verdan reached in and pulled Farrah out of the seat. He plopped her onto a box and shook her.
“What were you thinking?” he demanded. “You could have been killed!”
Rebecca grabbed his shoulder. “Hey!”
“Remove your hands!”
“Verdan!”
“This is not your concern!”
Rebecca clenched her jaw. “You’re scaring the child, you big lughead.”
For a moment, Rebecca thought he might turn his fury on her. Let him, she thought. I can take it.
Verdan placed her hands on either side of the girl’s face. His voice softened, but his eyes did not. “I am disappointed in your foolishness.”
Farrah blinked. “I-I’m sorry, Papa. I was just having so much fun.”
He scowled at her. “No tears. You are not an infant.”
Farrah’s lip quivered.
“I’ll send Min away. Infants cannot have pets.”
The girl bit her lip hard enough for the color to fade from her face, but the tears dried up.
Verdan patted her face. “Your stoicism brings you Honor. Bed time.”
He scooped her into his arms. Rebecca opened her mouth to speak, but the look Verdan shot her made her step back. Rebecca stuck out her jaw.
“You want to blame someone?” she said, her voice low. “Blame me.”
“I do,” Verdan ground out. “We talk later.”
He spun away, carrying his daughter.
Rebecca huffed a curl out of her face. “Well, that went about as well as a house fire.”