Honor Among Thieves (The Honors #1)(31)
I didn’t want to admit it also felt . . . good.
“Did Marko and Chao-Xing have trouble adapting?” I asked, and headed for the kitchen. He was right. Food probably was an ace idea.
He didn’t answer the question, and I decided not to try it again. Could he get mad? I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out, not this fast. I pulled out drawers and examined the neatly ranked packages. Apparently, they were specially branded to us—I spotted some things in the drawers marked with my name that made my stomach growl. I chose a meat-pie pack and read the instructions on the back. It only took a half a minute to warm it in the reheater.
Oh, hell. Maybe I ought to take the girl something after all.
Beatriz’s drawer had a lot of dishes—some I recognized and a lot that I didn’t. “Feijoada,” I mumbled. Sounded tasty. I took it out, cracked it open, heated it up, and then stacked it on top of my meal. After grabbing two packaged waters, I went to Bea’s quarters. Nadim had to give me a helping pulse of direction along the way, but I didn’t mind. Already I was warming to the idea that no matter where I went on board, he’d always be there if I needed help. That was . . . comforting. It shouldn’t have been. I should have been freaked out, trapped, wanting my freedom. Being on this ship was the opposite of alone.
But it also felt good for someone to be looking out for me for a change. When I’d been out there in the Zone with Derry, I’d spent so much of the time watching for the danger signs with him . . . keeping him away from the chems, helping him through it when I failed. Now that I thought about it, that hadn’t been much like freedom at all. In the rear view, it was starting to look a lot like being manipulated.
Maybe it had been easier to focus on Derry’s needs than try to sort out my own shit. I shouldn’t make that mistake up here, but I couldn’t be rude, either. Which reminded me of things I was used to doing back on the ground as regular politeness. My crash course on Earth had told me that Leviathan didn’t have gender, which made Nadim nonbinary, though his voice sounded male. So I said, “I’m wondering how I should refer to you. Pronoun-wise.”
“He is fine, since that is how I register to you. I have no preference. But I appreciate you for asking.” The warmth of his tone made me glad I’d taken the time.
“Don’t tell me, this is another first?”
“No, others have asked, probably because it’s covered in orientation.”
He seemed in a good-enough mood, so I risked it. “You never answered me, by the way. Is there some reason you don’t want to talk about Marko and Chao-Xing?”
“I was trying to decide whether or not my answer would violate their privacy, but after consideration, I think I may address the question in general terms. Marko missed his family regularly—more at first, when we left, of course. But he liked to talk to me, and that seemed to help, and he often sent back messages home. Chao-Xing did not miss anyone particularly, and I suppose in many ways she adapted very well to being in partnership with a Leviathan. She loved the exploration, but in terms of emotional adjustment . . . she never warmed to me. In her eyes, I always remained a vessel. Not a friend. Separate.”
“That’s messed up.” I paused in the hall and patted the first organic part of him I could reach, and it happened again: warmth pulsed down my palm and into my wrist. Leaving my hand in place while balancing trays and boxes of water with the other, I sensed something deep in my bones, almost like a purr radiating from Nadim’s depths. It could be his pulse or a subharmonic communication I couldn’t quite understand. It made me want to keep touching him.
Especially when he said, “I’m very glad you’re here, Zara.”
***PRIVILEGED COMMUNICATION EYES OF WHSC TOP LEVEL ONLY DNA ENCODED***
Elder Typhon greets you, Earth people of the WHSC. In response to the standard inquiry, two hundred and seventy-one individuals of Earth who have been sent on the Journey have not returned within communication range, but the greetings of their families have been sent out in hopes that they will be received. I am aware, through the songs of my people, of the natural death of seventeen human crew members, which is in keeping with the lifespan of your species. Their bodies have been committed to the stars, as is our custom. The names of those so honored are at the end of this message.
The remaining humans engaged in the Journey continue, as do the Leviathan to whom they are matched.
We thank you for the gift of these new Honors, whom we will watch and test upon this year’s small voyage. We will train them in our technology, and they will teach us the way your species approaches science and the solving of problems, as well as the history and culture of the people of Earth, which we honor and value as well. The discoveries that result from our joint experiments benefit both our species. We will continue the research requested by your scientists, as has been agreed.
This covers the specific questions we have agreed to answer for this Honors cycle. Any others must be submitted for the next year.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Breaking Up
AFTER THE FOOD, Beatriz felt comfortable enough to start exploring; Nadim gave us a walk-through of places that were accessible to us—a tiny fraction of his actual size, I realized. But still huge for two people.
We’d already toured the highlights with Marko, including the library—almost a hundred shelves of real paper books and a vast collection of e-media, new and old. There was even a theater next to it, with a stage and an area where media could be beamed.