Brightly Burning(37)

“No, that’s okay.” I could already feel my cheeks heating just at the thought of standing out like that. No, thanks. “Wait, you have parents?”

“Most people do.”

“I just mean, I assumed you were an orphan,” I said.

“Almost but not quite. My parents live on the Nikkei. They shipped me off to the Marie Curie when I was thirteen, so I haven’t seen them in a long time. But they like to write.”

“Then when did you come to the Rochester? How long have you been here?”

“You’re oddly inquisitive.” She stashed the stethoscope in a drawer. “Also, perfectly healthy. Congrats.”

“Just thought I’d get to know you. Since I’ll be sticking around. For your betting pool.”

Hanada smiled like a cat. “I came to the Rochester when I was eighteen. Ten years ago.” She took up my left arm, turning it over and running two fingers along it. Weird, since I thought the examination was over. “And where were you ten years ago?”

“The Empire.”

“That’s what I thought,” she said, tapping her fingers at the crook of my elbow, then letting go, seeming satisfied. “Did you have the Kebbler virus? Or were you vaccinated?”

“Why do you want to know that?” The tables had turned, Hanada grilling me for information.

“Science. I’m a virologist, remember?”

“Then, yeah, I had the Kebbler virus.”

“And you survived?” Her tone was positively gleeful. She went back to the metal drawer and pulled out a tourniquet and syringe.

“Clearly,” I said, eyeing the door. “Can I go now?”

“Let’s make a deal.” She reached for my arm again. “You let me draw some blood—?for science—?and I’ll answer whatever burning question you were quite indelicately trying to butter me up for.”

My whole body burned at being caught, but a surge of triumph pushed through the heat. She was willing to talk to me. Now I had to figure out what question I wanted to ask.

“You think about it while I take care of this.” She tied the tourniquet just above my elbow and picked up the needle.

I could ask about the other governesses, or about the sounds I’d been hearing, but the former wouldn’t get me closer to figuring out who was trying to hurt Hugo, and the latter might make her think I was losing my mind. “Is there anyone on board who would want to hurt Hugo?” I asked finally as Hanada plunged the needle all the way into my vein.

“That’s a dangerous question to ask.”

“Why?” I focused intently on her purple-tipped hair to distract myself from the pressure of the needle. I couldn’t look.

“Because if there were, I might be the one, and I have a needle in your arm?” She was quick to let me know she was kidding before I could jerk my arm away. “No one is trying to hurt Hugo. I mean, you’ve met all of us. Who exactly do you think is a secret killer? The fire was an accident.”

I bit my tongue, unsure I wanted to tell her about the airlock, or the laughing. Hanada did not exactly inspire trust. When she withdrew the needle from my arm, I let out an involuntary sigh of relief.

“This was nice,” she said, signaling question time was over. Then she shooed me to the door, leaving me in the dark and feeling entirely unsatisfied.

The feeling stayed with me all day, like a second skin. Hanada’s question rattled around in my head. I had met everyone on board the Rochester, so who did I think could be trying to harm Hugo? Hanada was odd, but if their weekly poker game was anything to go by, Hugo and she were friends. Xiao, Orion, and Jessa were out of the question—?too motherly, too friendly, and too young, respectively. I didn’t know Lieutenant Poole well, but it was a big leap to brand her a killer. And Albert could have simply poisoned Hugo if he wanted.

But then there was that laugh. Someone had been in the corridor last night before the fire. I was sure of it.

Reasonably sure.


Before dinner, I went back to my unfinished message to Jon, rewriting it now that I’d had some time to collect my thoughts.


Dear Jon,

Something happened last night . . . It’s turning into a blur now, and I’m not sure what to think. Long story short, there was a fire in Hugo’s room. I saved his life, and then he left. And everyone says it was an accident, but I’m not sure.

I’ve gone over it in my head, and I can’t imagine who on board would do such a thing. But then I guess I’ve only been here two months and don’t really know them. Does your uncle have access to the fleet-census database? Maybe he could do a quick lookup on the crew? It’s Iris Xiao, Grace Poole, Mari Hanada, Orion Carmichael, and Albert Hawes. No need to check on the ten-year-old.

Don’t worry about me, though. I’m still happy here and don’t want to come back. I’d just like some peace of mind that no one on staff is a pyromaniac.

Stella


Dinner was fully vegetarian again, pleasing Officer Xiao, the rest of us not even bothering to mention the change. The crew was used to this. Hugo came; Hugo went. I would get used to it too.

After dinner, I headed for the study. Only once I got there, I remembered: no Hugo, no evening reading appointment. I scoured the corridor, looking left, right, and behind me for good measure before I pressed my fingers to the OPEN button.