Brightly Burning(36)

My body ran cold. Why was Hugo being so formal?

“Please report for breakfast as usual, and I’ll see you when I return.”

“Return?” I tried to stem the panic in my voice, even as it spiraled out from the pit of ice forming in my stomach. “Where are you going?”

“I have to run an errand off-ship. It should take only a few weeks.”

A few weeks? He’d only been home about as long.

“Jessa will be devastated,” I said, blatantly using Jessa as a proxy for my own feelings.

“Just reassure her that I’ll be back soon, hopefully with good news and some exciting company,” he said, forcing a smile.

I had a million questions—?What good news? What did he mean by “company”? But before I could ask, Hugo bid me farewell with a curt nod and walked away, heading toward the transport bay. I returned to my desk tab in a daze, reading over what I’d written to Jon. No longer was I alight with apprehension, curiosity. Instead, I felt bogged down by new emotions, which stuck to my skin, my bones, as if someone had poured concrete over me: disappointment and confusion. I saved the message and resolved to finish it later. There was nothing more I could possibly say. Not to Jon. I could barely admit it to myself.

The captain was free to come and go as he pleased, I reasoned. I was just his employee, so there was no use getting upset. Even though I was stone-cold sober, I blamed the alcohol I’d had last night for muddling my mind and senses. Any connection I’d felt between us was only in my head.

I threw myself into the day’s tasks, starting with breakfast, which still featured meat, reinforcing my suspicion that the captain’s departure was unexpected. Neither Xiao nor Lieutenant Poole appeared, and Orion seemed none the wiser as to what happened last night—?he asked me no questions and seemed perfectly surprised when I told them the captain had left. Jessa was, indeed, upset, but years of Hugo’s sporadic presence had inoculated her to the initial shock. When I told her, she sighed, long and deep, but then schooled her features and asked if we could swap math for literature today. I said I’d be glad to, but before we could head down to our classroom, a ping came in over the comms. Officer Hanada was calling.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hello, Stella,” Hanada singsonged in my ear. “I hear you ran into a burning room this morning and might have suffered a little smoke inhalation. Please report to the medical bay ASAP.”

“I have class, so—”

“Have Orion watch her. I have a busy day ahead, and Hugo insisted I see you, make sure you’re not dying.”

“I feel fine.”

“Even so.”

She was a force to be reckoned with, and so I instructed Jessa to do independent reading until I could join her.

“Where is the medical bay, exactly?” I asked, comms still on.

“You know where you found the dead rat? There’s a corridor about five feet from there on the right. Go all the way down it, and you can’t miss me.”

I followed her instructions, though thankfully there were no more mangled cat treats marking the spot this time. The corridor to the med bay was dark, no emergency lights lining the walls here, but Hanada hadn’t been wrong. The light spilling out from a glass window in the med bay door made it easy, a beacon in the expanse of black.

The med bay was nothing special, the only notable detail being that it was eight times nicer than the one on board the Stalwart had been. Everything was made of shiny silver and frosted glass, all kept pristine from either diligent upkeep or lack of use. Given the size of the crew, I assumed the latter.

Hanada ordered me to hop up onto a gurney so she could check my breathing. Her stethoscope pressed cold against my chest as she leaned in close. The tips of her hair were purple now.

“Do you do that yourself?” I asked, pointing.

“Hmm. I’m the only scientist on board.”

“Wait, you’re not a doctor?”

She looked at me like I was stupid, then switched to checking my eyes with a bright light.

“I’m a virologist. I just moonlight as a doctor when people run into burning rooms or little girls decide to take a flying leap off a table.”

“What does the Rochester need a scientist for?” I took a closer look around. The med bay didn’t see much use, but there was a door to my right. Must be a lab.

“The Fairfaxes were all scientists. Until this generation, at least.” She rolled her eyes, and I would have asked for the story if I hadn’t been afraid she’d bite my head off. “The ship houses an archive of old Earth drugs, cures, and the like. I keep everything in good condition for when we eventually deorbit.”

“There’s a lot about this ship I don’t know,” I said, half to myself. Hanada moved to check my reflexes, hitting a metal prong against my knees.

“Hang in there. Remember, I need you to last at least a year. For the betting pool.”

“Hugo says that isn’t real.”

“Hugo likes to tell people what they want to hear,” she volleyed back. “Have you been experiencing any nausea or vomiting, confusion or sleepiness?”

I shook my head. “So what do you do when you’re not in the lab, then? Don’t you get bored? We never see you on the main deck.”

She eyed me, clearly skeptical of my attempt at small talk. But she answered. “I read. Poker on Sundays with Hugo and Poole. I write to my parents. Dye my hair. We could do yours, if you want.” She took a step back, examining me. “Magenta might look nice. I think I have the colors to mix that.”