Weightlessness.

For all of our planning, we somehow hadn’t prepared for this.

As the shuttle left the satellite’s gravity field, Zayda drifted from the bottom of the compartment. Wedged in so tightly, I didn't move at all, but could feel the lift in my gut. And, since Zayda was in here with me, she didn't go particularly far, either.

“I don't like this,” she whispered, her voice muted by the tough plastic.

Odd. Weightlessness was comfortable, almost soothing, to me.

But from the way she lay, muscles tight with tension beside me, I could tell it wasn't the same for her.

Our environment limited the range of my arms, but that didn't stop me from pulling her just a tiny bit closer.

“We're not going anywhere, at least,” I joked. “We couldn't be more secure if we were strapped in a jump harness.”

There had to be something to take her mind off this.

So far, she'd been unwilling to tell me what her mission was once we reached the station, and I hadn’t pressed her. Her business.

There was another topic that should be fair game.

“At first, I thought that guy, Larko, was just harassing you because he was a jerk. That you had turned him down, and he didn't handle rejection well.” I searched for something clever to say, but maybe it was best to stick with the basics. “It was more than that, wasn't it?”

Zayda sighed. “We knew each other as kids. We might've been friends back then, really. Maybe more like allies. It wasn’t really safe to have friends growing up, to get too attached.”

She faded off and I stroked her upper arm with the one hand that had a tiny range of movement.

“Well, you know all my secrets. At least all of them that I do.”

The tightness in her shoulders loosened against my chest. “That's true. Not that that's saying much, of course.”

Spooned against me in the dark, she couldn't see my answering smile, but she continued anyway.

“Since you don't remember Orem, you probably don't remember the Cilurnum stations. Orem was built by a private company, if I’m remembering right.”

Zayda recited a lesson learned long ago, no emotion to the story, just bare facts.

“The Cilurnum stations were built by the Empire as a boundary, the edge of expansion. Under the old Emperor, the Imperial troops withdrew to maintain order nearer the center. The Cilurnum stations were left in the hands of anyone who could keep them. Some stayed more lawful than others.”

The situation sounded familiar. I didn’t remember learning this, but, somehow, I knew she was right. This was the universe we lived in, somewhere on the Fringe.

“Station three might not have been so bad, if you were in one of the upper levels. But the Lowers were a nightmare. We thought it was normal to have packs of kids roaming the back corridors of the decks, sorting through piles of refuse for anything to eat, anything to wear, anything to keep you safe at night.”

Her tone shifted, voice threaded with sadness. There wasn’t a way to comfort her, and I couldn’t change the past, anyway.

“Larko was one of the kids in my pack. We weren't close, but he grew up just as hungry and scared as I did.”

“I don't remember anything about my childhood,” I told her in the long silence that followed. “But I think there was at least someone who cared for us. I'm sorry there wasn't someone for you.”

She squeezed my arms where they wrapped around her stomach. “But that's the thing Larko was so angry about. There was someone. He just came late, and, in the end, he only took me.

“A man came down to the Lowers. For the longest time, he just sat in the open squares, watching.” She gave a muffled laugh. “He looked so posh to us that every kid tried their hand at robbing him, but somehow he knew all our tricks, stayed a step ahead.

“Then he started to bring down food. He’d set it down on a bench, go sit on another, and just watch. Some of us thought it would be poisoned, or drugged. But we argued, wanted it. We were so hungry all the time.

“Finally, I couldn't stand it. I asked what he wanted.”

She stopped, lost in memory again, and I thought of all the ways this story could end. A man of comparative wealth and power, trolling for desperate children. Rage burned in my muscles, but it wouldn’t help Zayda now.

“He said he was looking for me. Oh, not me in particular, but someone who was brave enough to ask questions. He asked if I wanted a new life, was I willing to work for it. And that day we left the Lowers, and I never went back.”

Trapped in the compartment, there wasn’t enough space for me to hit something, and even if no one was in the shuttle’s hold with us, yelling was a bad idea. So I worked very hard to keep my arms from tension and my voice level as unwelcome images flashed through my head.

But I had to ask. “How exactly did he expect you to work for it?”

“Not like that,” Zayda slapped at the back of my hand. “At the time, I might've agreed. But no, he taught me, trained me. Gave me an education and a future. And now I need to get back to him, to my job.”

A completely unreasonable wave of jealousy washed through me. He didn’t sound like a lover, more like a father figure. It was just the unequal balance of power that bothered me, I told myself. Sure.

“So, what happened to Larko?” I asked.

She collapsed a little in my arms. “I never saw him again, never even thought about him. I was so focused on everything I needed to do, to learn. Everything Stanton Grene taught me.”

Her voice faded to the barest whisper behind the muffling plastic. “Maybe I should have tried to go back, do something for the other kids, but I was holding on by my fingernails to what I had, to a future I had no right to expect. Turning around to look backwards, I was afraid I would have fallen.”

I strained to hear her next words.

“I didn't see Larko again until my first day on Minor. Didn't even recognize him until he started hassling me.”

Her words slowed, and she faded off into silence.

“Zayda?”

“Mmm?” She answered sleepily.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Just tired, maybe we should nap the rest of the way.”

A spike of fear hit me. “Zayda, are you sure your air is flowing?”

“I think so.”

But I wasn't so sure. I pulled my shoulders back as much as possible to give my hand a little more room to move, then slid my fingers over Zayda's face, pushed her sweep of hair away, and felt for where the tube entered the plastic envelope.

It was still attached, but something felt wrong.

Micron by micron, I contorted until I could reach the tube connecting to my own makeshift mask.

Damn it.

On the connection to my own mask I could feel the faintest vibrations through the tube where the oxygen flowed.

But there had been nothing from Zayda’s.

I didn't know if her tank had failed or the tube had loosened in the rack above us, but it didn't matter.

Her body lay slack in my arms, unresponsive.

Finding out exactly what had gone wrong would have to wait. Right now, she needed air.

With a quick jerk, I pulled the tube from my mask and worked back over to hers. Switching the lines with one hand in the dark with limited range of motion wasn't the easiest thing, but her limp form added drive to my focus.

As soon as the lines were switched, she started to revive.

“Hey, sorry for dropping off like that. How much longer do you think it will be?” Her groggy voice grew stronger with every word.

It would be so easy not to tell her. But if the trip didn't kill me, she would if she found out.

“Hopefully not much longer because we've had a little complication.” In as few words as possible, I explained the problem.

“Mack, you need the air, too.” All drowsiness was gone for her voice now. “Even if you-” She bit her words off.

I knew she was right, but, so far, I felt fine. “Maybe the stories of keeping the shuttle without an atmosphere were just that, stories.”

She shook her head. “We can’t trust that. We’re going to have to just alternate.”

For the rest of the journey, we switched the one tube back and forth between our masks.

Until finally I couldn't feel the movement of air from the second tank, either.

“Mack, I think....”

“I know, darlin’.”

This time, there wasn't anything I could do other than stroke her hair while she went to sleep.

Finally, I heard the hiss of gas being released in the shuttle's cargo bay all around us, and gravity pulled us harder onto the floor of the compartment.

We had landed, and the cargo ramp was extending, breathable atmosphere rushing into the shuttle.

But was it too late?

“Zayda, wake up.”

No response.

I pinched her skin lightly until she stirred in my arms, then my own stupidity struck me. I ripped the envelope from her face, then covered her mouth with my hand as she let out an angry “Ow!”

I couldn't risk a word, but in seconds we both heard steps, muted conversation all around us.

Slowly, I moved my hand and together we waited in the dark, grateful that our gifts from Gozer hadn't shifted too much during weightlessness as we were bounced and rolled down long corridors.

Finally, all of the noise around us stopped.

I listened as steps faded, people moved down the corridors and away. I refocused, trying through hearing alone to get a sense of the room we were in, but nothing alerted me.

“I think they’re gone,” I whispered, and pulled the adhesive off my own face, then blinked in shock. “That really hurts!”

Zayda elbowed me. “At least you knew it was coming!” But I could hear the smile in her voice.

“You ready to get out of here?”

“If we can still walk.” She reached up to unfasten the hidden latch and slide the panel open.

It didn't move.

Threads of panic wove around the edge of her voice. “I think we have a problem. Something must have shifted while we were weightless,” she hissed.

As wedged in as we were, I couldn't reach the panel without putting an elbow in Zayda’s face. “I can't reach. You have to try again.”

Still nothing.

“We can’t get stuck now,” she said. “I can squeeze down farther, see if you can move your arms more.”

At any other time, Zayda squirming down my torso would have been distracting.

Now, I just wanted to get us both out.

“That’s far enough,” I muttered. “Let's hope I'm right and there really is nobody in earshot. “

I could only get one arm partially above my head, but it was enough to hammer the panel with three sharp blows.

Zayda and I both heard the click after the third one.

“Stop,” she whispered. “Let me try again.”

This time, the panel slid free.

We wiggled out, and every muscle in my aching legs rejoiced when we finally lay stretched out on the hard floor of a dark warehouse, gasping

As soon as I could, I stood and grabbed my new clothing. “I’ll head that way while you change.”

In the dark, thoughts of Zayda, only separated from sight by a thin screen, danced around my mind, diverting me from a more pressing question:

What the hell was I going to do now?

The urge to get off Orem had only grown. Not to leave, exactly. I needed to go somewhere, some place.

Coordinates I couldn't speak burned in the back of my mind, waiting for my hands to flip the controls of the ship that would take me there.

And that was the catch. I'd have to find a job, earn enough to get a ship, or find someone who let me do courier runs long enough to have the ability to detour for a bit.

But I’d find something. That would be the next step.

I finished dressing and waited.

Nothing from Zayda.

“Everything all right?” I called softly.

“No.” Her voice was flat. More aggravated than scared, but definitely not happy.

When I reached her side, she was fully dressed, prison uniform neatly tied into a nondescript bundle.

Her hair had fallen out of her braid during our trip, spilling like black water over her shoulders.

The dress fastened behind her neck, skimming over her torso, leaving her shoulders bare, other than the covering of her dark hair. The skirt flared out at the hips, and I imagined how it would flow around her as she moved.

Zayda glared at her feet.

“What's wrong? It looks great.” Great was a vast understatement.

“The dress is fantastic. However,” she pointed down.

I had to admit, the clunky black prison-issued boots we'd all worn on Minor seemed out of place under the graceful dress.

“You look beautiful, and like you can kick ass. Both things are true, so what’s the problem?”

She huffed a little, then sighed. “It's a small thing to be worried about after we’re actually free. Just a tiny complication.”

I stuck my hands in my pockets. “Jado slipped me some credits before we left. Not a lot, but surely there's a place we can find a pair of shoes.”

Zayda muffled her laugh. “Ardelle did the same for me.” Her tone sobered. “I wonder how it's going up there.”

I took her discarded bundle of clothing, added it to mine, and took her hand. “The two of them make a pretty good team, don't you think?”

Slipping through the aisle of goods waiting for their next destination, she followed me through the warehouse. “Better than I realized.”

“Let's trust them to get their job done. We've got our own to figure out.”

My memory might be spotty, but I was sure I’d never before said the next words:

“First mission, shoe shopping.”