A Closed and Common Orbit (Wayfarers #2)(97)

‘What?’

Oouoh shifted his jaw. ‘Are you two coupling or what?’

Jane nearly choked on her own breath. ‘Are – wh – no. No, no, we’re – uh—’ Did he really think that? Did everyone think that? Jane had no idea how to feel about that if they did.

The Laru made the same rumbly sound as before. ‘No worries, just getting the story straight. I haven’t met many of your kind, so I don’t really know how to read you. You two just seem . . . protective. Of each other.’

‘Like how?’

‘You’re always talking for him. And yeah, I get he can’t do that great on his own, but you figure him out pretty quick. You help him get there. And doesn’t matter if he can speak Klip or not, he’s clear as air when he’s pissed at someone on your behalf. He’s been glaring knives at Thekreh for the past two days.’

Jane felt her cheeks flush. ‘You heard about that?’

Oouoh stretched his limbs. ‘Ships are small. Things get around. Don’t let her get to you. She thinks I smell, too.’ He ruffled the fur on his forearm. ‘We mammals got the shit end of the evolution stick.’

Something wrapped tight in Jane’s chest loosened a bit, and she smiled. She liked this guy.

‘Anyway, all I’m saying is you two act like you’ve known each other a while. I guess if you’ve been through some bad stuff together, that speeds things up.’

Jane thought about that. She thought about the bit early on in Scorch Squad VI when the Squad crosses paths with Death-Head Eve, and they team up to fight the Oil Prince. They went through a lot of bad stuff together, and they did all kinds of crazy things that you’d only do if you really trusted and cared about somebody. But in the end, when the job was done, when the bad guy was gone, they went their separate ways. They weren’t friends, not in the sticking-around sense. Jane and Laurian had never discussed whether they’d be sticking around each other once they left the Yo’ton. She’d just assumed it would happen. But why? If he didn’t want to stick around, he didn’t have to, right? The thought made her sad, which was stupid. She could take care of herself. If she could scavenge, if she could deal with dogs, she could handle whatever Port Coriol had on her own.

But she liked Laurian. She liked him being with her. She liked working with him, eating with him. She liked the drawings he made on the old scrib the captain had given him. She liked teaching him Klip, little by little, going real slow as he fought through the sounds. She liked the way he put his hand on her shoulder when she got scared or angry. She liked sleeping next to him, even though the storage compartment sucked. She liked knowing that if she had a nightmare, he’d wake her up, and that she’d do the same for him. She liked telling him sim stories in the dark when neither of them could sleep, and she liked that he’d draw her pictures of characters the way he imagined them. She liked that time she’d woken up to find that they’d cuddled close, nose to nose. She’d stayed awake as long as she could, just lying real still and knowing he was there. It wasn’t like having a bunkmate. She didn’t know what it was like. She thought about what Oouoh had assumed. She wished she could talk to Owl.

She pointed at the pipe. ‘Can I have some more?’

Oouoh passed the pipe back. ‘Like it?’

Jane sparked the redreed. ‘I dunno yet.’ She breathed in smoke. And coughed, of course. ‘I like the taste, at least. I like tasting new things.’

The Laru watched her, his neck bobbing in thought. ‘Come on,’ he said, standing up and waving her to follow. Oouoh went back into the storage area, where the cook worked. He opened a two-doored cupboard, and gestured her toward it.

Jane stepped forward. Inside the cupboard were dozens of little jars and bottles, all labelled with words she could read but didn’t recognise. Crushberry leaf. Ground huptum. River salt. She didn’t understand.

Oouoh’s eyes rolled toward the jars, then back at Jane. ‘They’re spices,’ he said. ‘You know what spices are?’

Jane shook her head.

‘Stars,’ Oouoh muttered. He grabbed a jar – Yekeni pepper, the label read – and pulled out the stopper. ‘Put out your hand,’ he said. Jane did, and Oouoh sprinkled a tiny dash of rough yellow dust into her palm. ‘Go on. Taste it.’

Jane stared at the hard little clumps. This . . . wasn’t food. She didn’t know what this was. She sniffed it. Her sinuses shot open in response. Timidly, she stuck out her tongue and dabbed up a few of the mysterious grains.

Her mouth exploded, but oh, stars, in such a good way. Everything was hot and sharp, but delicious, too, and smoky and dry and – and like nothing she’d ever tasted. Nothing ever. She licked up the rest, not caring about the pain that came with it. The pain almost made it better, in a weird way. Her eyes watered and her nose cleared. She was the most awake she’d felt in days.

She grabbed another jar. Suddet, it read. ‘Are any of these poisonous?’ she asked.

Oouoh wiggled his neck. ‘To you? No idea. But I know where the med ward is, and you look easy to carry.’

Jane grinned, then poured a bit of the suddet – whatever that was – straight onto her tongue. Different! So different! This one wasn’t hot at all! It was like . . . dammit, she needed words for this. She’d find the words. She’d learn.