A Closed and Common Orbit (Wayfarers #2)(84)

Jane nodded and tried to smile, just to make Owl feel better. ‘Last time,’ she said, moving food from stasie to satchel. ‘Last time.’





SIDRA


The surface market was overwhelming as ever, but Sidra felt she could walk through it a little braver now. This time, she didn’t have to shrink away from strangers. This time, she was prepared.

‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ Tak was watching her closely, as he had been since they left his shop. There was no need for it, but the intent was appreciated.

Sidra started to say the words I’m fine, but another possible response appeared, a far more tantalising one: ‘I don’t feel any different.’ Her pathways buzzed gleefully. It wasn’t true. It wasn’t true. There was a difference in her – not a big one, but she could feel it. I don’t feel any different was a nice, colloquial way to reassure someone that she was okay, but an hour before, she wouldn’t have been able to say it.

She managed to keep the kit from skipping.

A shopfront caught her eye. ‘I want to go in there,’ she said, making an abrupt turn.

‘Wait, what—’ she heard Tak say as she stepped through a smooth, curved doorway. It was an exosuit shop, filled with everything an organic sapient needed for a stroll out in space. Suits for different species stood smartly on display, as if their occupants had just stepped out. There were rocket boots, too, and all manner of breathing apparatus. Another Aeluon stood when they entered, clearly eager for customers. Her cheeks flashed in greeting to Tak.

‘Hello,’ the merchant said to Sidra. ‘What can I help you find?’

Sidra had already crafted a new response file on her way inside. She deployed it, savouring the moment. ‘Well, I’m the captain of an asteroid mining ship.’

‘Oh, stars,’ Tak muttered.

Sidra continued brightly. ‘I’ve been thinking of replacing my crew’s suits.’ The kit’s toes curled within their shoes. She gestured to Tak. ‘This is Tak, my comp tech. We’re travelling to Hagarem.’

Tak looked pained. He flashed a weak acknowledgement.

‘You’ve come to the right place,’ the merchant said. ‘If you can tell me more about your budget and the species present in your crew, I can go over some options—’

‘Oh, no, look at the time,’ Sidra said, glancing at her scrib. ‘I’m so sorry. I just remembered, I have an appointment at the algae farms. We’ll have to come back.’ She took Tak’s hand and exited the shop, leaving the merchant looking politely bewildered. Sidra felt a little bad about that, but she couldn’t keep her delight from surfacing. She exited the shop and burst into laughter. ‘Oh!’ she said, sitting down on a nearby bench and clutching the kit’s sides. She hoped the merchant couldn’t hear her; it really hadn’t been a very nice thing to do. ‘I’m – I’m sorry, I just had to – oh, stars.’ She drummed the kit’s feet happily.

‘I’m so glad you’re amused,’ Tak said.

‘I’m sorry,’ Sidra said, trying to get a hold of herself. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just – none of that was true!’

‘I’m well aware.’ Tak was starting to laugh as well, the kind of laugh that sprang from someone else’s laughter. ‘Though I guess I was your comp tech today.’

‘You were. You were, and I am so grateful.’ The kit smiled at him, warm and sincere.

Tak returned the look, but it shifted serious again. ‘Sidra, you have to tell Pepper and Blue. Just in case something goes wrong.’

‘Nothing will go wrong. But, yes, I will tell them.’ She knew Blue wouldn’t object. As for Pepper . . . well, easier to ask forgiveness than permission.

There was a slight tightness in Tak’s face Sidra hadn’t seen before. With a sting, she realised: he was trying to determine if she was telling the truth. ‘I wouldn’t lie to you,’ she said.

‘I know,’ Tak said, but there was a hesitancy in his tone. Sidra didn’t like that. Had he been more comfortable with her when she’d been easy to control? When she’d been truthful by default? She hoped not.





JANE, AGE 19


Jane had picked out their first overnight spot on the way to the factory: an old skiff, rusted through, but with the seating compartment easily accessible (well, mostly – she’d removed the upholstery on a previous trip). She glanced over her shoulder as she laid the sleeping bags out on the stripped-down seats. She started to say something, but had to clear her throat first. There was this weird, dry, rattling feeling in there she couldn’t shake. She’d have sworn she was thirsty, but it was food she was short on, not water. She cleared her throat again. ‘Hey,’ she said in Sko-Ensk. ‘You okay?’

Laurian stood a few steps from her, staring out toward the setting sun. He didn’t talk much anyway, but this was a different kind of silence.

Jane abandoned the sleeping bags and walked to him. ‘Hey,’ she said. She didn’t touch him. She’d made that mistake shortly after they’d left the factory. Just a congratulatory hand placed on his shoulder once they were well out of sight, but it had been enough to make him jump and gasp. Jane hadn’t needed to ask why. She’d been alone a long time, too.