Ana didn’t say a word as I trailed her to Habitat Two and her and Marama Kereama’s cabin. I could have suggested dinner at one of the onboard restaurants. Even the officer’s dining hall. The chef would have prepared something for us in my ready room. All of those would have been acceptable, some more so than others.

But instead, I followed her, barely a step behind, as she made her way through the central hub and down the corridor that led to her quarters.

I knew exactly how small her quarters were. How cramped and cosy. How hers and Marama’s personalities came through in the decor. How it was their home.

And for the life of me, I couldn’t suggest somewhere more neutral. Somewhere more appropriate.

When I’d decided I’d stick close to Ana in the event that Pavo advised her of any of his concerns, I hadn’t really thought this through. We both needed food and rest. But how much eating and resting we’d get done in such close proximity to each other was another matter.

But I couldn’t afford for her to delay in telling me if Pavo had a problem.

And I couldn’t trust her to tell me without delay.

It was a messy situation, not helped by the furtive looks thrown our way.

We were both still in uniform, and if those in Habitat Two who saw us didn’t actually know us, they recognised the Anderson Universal insignia; the second lieutenant’s single pip and the captain’s quadruple bars. They could put two and two together and come up with something entirely unbecoming an officer and a subordinate.

In some ways, it would have been easier if Ana was still a pay-for-passage.

She stopped outside her cabin and pressed her palm against the gel wall. I half expected her to continue to ignore me and shut the door in my face. But the door stayed open until I crossed the threshold and then I was forced to close it behind us.

Inside the cabin, the air was still. I could have sworn I could hear her heartbeat. I could certainly feel mine.

Whether I trusted Ana Kereama or not, I was deeply attracted to her.

She turned and looked at me, a defiant tilt to her chin. That challenge blatant in her dark eyes.

“I need to shower and change,” she said.

“I’ll make us some dinner,” I offered.

She stilled. It was too domesticated. Too comfortable when it was anything but. Her eyes met mine and then, slowly, so very slowly, she smirked.

Be still my beating heart, this woman was incredible.

I watched her enter the small attached ensuite and stood there like a lovestruck fool. If my stomach hadn’t chosen that moment to grumble, I probably would have stood there for several minutes more.

I crossed to the kitchenette and looked at the food producer. At the sight of the Pavo controlled equipment, I remembered why I was actually here. And how Ana being in the ensuite without me was an ideal time for her to conspire with the AI.

I looked at the door to the ensuite; I could hear the water running. She’d only have three minutes before it cut-off. Surely she wouldn’t waste it talking to Pavo. She needed a shower. We both did. We’d both done a double shift. And she couldn’t wear her earpiece under water.

I considered my options. I would not go in there. I would not. But I could listen at the door.

I felt all kinds of perverted standing with my ear pressed to the ensuite bathroom’s gel-coated door. Listening to the water fall and imagining it washing over her body. I strained to hear any whispers. Then promptly imagined Ana’s husky voice while she stood under the shower, hair slicked and skin glistening.

Good God, this was not helping.

I shook my head and stepped away. I was better than this. I was a captain of an Anderson Universal lead vessel with over ten thousand souls in my sector fleet. The same again in the fleet attempting to catch up to us. All of them my responsibility.

By the time Ana emerged from the bathroom, fresh and clean, and dressed in yoga pants and a t-shirt which surprisingly left nothing - well, not much - to the imagination, I had a meal waiting on the small table in the corner.

Pavo had graciously not mentioned my inappropriate behaviour when I’d requested the chilli con carne at the food prep station. Perhaps, because I’d been appalled at the limited selection the Kereama’s actually had to choose a meal from. I hadn’t realised just how disparate the berth tiers were. Which didn’t help with the thought of how disparate the rank of a captain and second lieutenant were.

“I hope you like chilli,” I said.

“Love it. Aunt Mara can’t eat it, though. So I haven’t had a chance to try the ship’s version.”

That left only six different dinner menu options for them.

I stared at my plate as Ana started eating her meal.

“Not hungry, Captain?”

“Jameson,” I corrected.

“I can’t call you that, sir.” She’d stopped eating and was watching me warily.

“Because I’m the captain and you’re a second lieutenant,” I finished for her.

She shook her head but said nothing.

With great effort, I started to eat. The meal was good, but I barely tasted it. Ana finished hers first; a reminder of her training. Having to eat on the run. Never knowing when you’d have to put down the fork and pick up a gun. Or, in her case, a med kit. I hoped.

“How do you think they got her?” she asked as she took the dishes to the sanitizer.

I knew who she was talking about. I thought perhaps she rarely stopped thinking of Mara. And here I had been listening at her bathroom door like a horny teenager.

I sat back in my seat and attempted to look unconcerned. Or innocent, it was hard to tell.

“Some form of mobile masking,” I offered. “They made her look like something else to Pavo’s scanners.”

She nodded her head and said nothing.

“We should get some rest,” I said.

“OK. Do you want a shower?”

With you? Yes.

I just nodded my head.

I had nothing to change into, again I hadn’t thought this through, so I showered quickly and redressed in my boxer briefs and undershirt. It was so far from appropriate that a part of me had given up feeling guilty. If you do something enough times, it starts to lose its impact.

Not that I’d stripped down to my skivvies in front of Ana Kereama before. But I was certainly crossing all manner of lines in the sand with the woman. With the lieutenant.

The lights had dimmed, and Ana was already in the bed on the far side of the cabin, her back to me. I tried to determine if she was still wearing her yoga pants under the covers, but I couldn’t be sure. I guessed that she would have been.

At least one of us was maintaining those walls.

I stared at Marama’s bed and offered up a silent apology to her. Then climbed under the covers and watched as the gel ceiling dimmed to a darker shade of green, which then became a black, and finally burst to life with a plethora of softly glowing stars across it.

Pavo had never done anything like this in my cabin. I was sure he only did this for Ana.

“Why do you think he chose you?” I asked. I knew she hadn’t fallen asleep yet. She was trying to regulate her breathing, but I was too in tune with her body not to be aware of her conscious state.

“Who?” she whispered. I tried not to picture that whisper in my ear.

“Pavo.”

“I don’t know.”

I said nothing. It didn’t matter. Pavo had chosen Ana and the reasons why were no longer relevant.

“He copies you,” she suddenly said.

“He what?”

“Your mannerisms. Things you’ve said.”

“Why would he do that?” I was hardly interesting material.

Ana rolled over in the bed and looked at me. I was still lying on my back, but my head was turned toward her side of the cabin.

“He’s trying to become more human,” she said.

I stared at her and then rolled onto my side to face her better. I needed my wits about me.

“Why?” I asked.

She shrugged, but I wasn’t buying it. Maybe something showed on my face.

“I think you know why,” she finally said.

“If we think of him as being similar to humans,” I mused, “then we’ll be more reluctant to reboot his systems when we find the origin of the fault.”

“Not ‘we’, Captain. You. And who says it’s a fault?”

She rolled over and gave me her back.

I stared at her for a long time. I stared at her until her breathing did eventually even out, and I was sure she’d finally gone to sleep. I stared at her as I realised I’d never wanted a woman more than I wanted Ana Kereama. A small cabin width away. So close, but so far. A temptation wrapped up in a challenge wrapped up in the answer to our survival.

Because I was pretty sure if we - I - tried to reboot Pavo, he wouldn’t cooperate.

And we needed Pavo. We needed an AI to guide us through the waypoints left behind by the first Sector Fleet. If we couldn’t navigate those, we couldn’t reach New Earth.

So, the question was, did I keep on this path to Pavo’s eventual reprogramming?

Or did I accept that Pavo was not ours to control, but to work with?

I didn’t get much sleep.