Starfall (Starflight #2)(95)
“All in.”
“This way for quadrants one and two,” Cassia shouted, pointing at the Origin’s boarding ramp. She thumbed at a second vessel called the Zephyr. “Quadrants three and four, you’re over here.” With a wink at Belle, she added, “If you don’t know which quad your settlement is in, ask the redhead with the sexy bionic eye. She’ll point you in the right direction.”
While Belle curtsied, Renny lifted a hand. “Remember, nothing leaves this planet except for you—not a single grain of sand. We will check your pockets when you board, so if you’re carrying contraband, get rid of it now.”
Activity stirred within the camp as several men and women tossed aside nutrient packets, shells, coins, and bits of broken jewelry the pirates had missed. Those weren’t the items Cassia cared about. Aside from inhalers, she mostly wanted to keep weapons off the ships. The workers had received their injections, but they were still in the “edgy” phase of their recovery, and squabbles were bound to happen during the long journey home.
Renny waved the settlers forward, and they began lining up in front of their respective ships. Like everything else on Adel Vice, boarding was a team effort. Renny and Doran stood at the base of each ramp, patting down the settlers for contraband. Once clear, the men and women continued up the ramp to the cargo hold, where Arabelle and Solara greeted them with a knapsack of food and toiletries. After that, the hired pilots and crew, who’d been paid with the titles to both mafia ships, took over, directing the settlers to their group quarters.
Cassia’s job was to stay in the camp with Gage and watch over those who weren’t ready to leave—the resistants, as she called them. These were the worst cases, three workers who’d grown so dependent on the inhalers that she’d had to stun them before beginning treatment. Kane was one of the three, along with an enormous fighter from the pit and a woman with dozens of scars crisscrossing her forearms. It hadn’t been easy, but Cassia had kept them sedated with tranquilizers she’d stolen at gunpoint from two pirates. Every second of the risk had been worth the reward of watching Kane recover in peace.
She entered the makeshift tent of blankets loosely tied to palm trees, and continued to the mattress in the far corner, where she’d positioned Kane for the best cross breeze. After taking a seat on the sandy ground, she started her daily ritual of sponging the sweat from his face with rainwater from the cisterns, making sure to clean the scar on his throat. To conserve the cistern supply, she used seawater to wash his chest and beneath his arms. All the freshwater on Adel Vice came from a well on the pirates’ side of the resort, and she knew better than to ask them to share.
She noticed Kane’s color had returned, and while she moved each of his limbs to exercise them, she debated whether she should stop his sedative. By the last arm stretch, she decided the time had come, and she removed his intravenous line.
“I can do that,” Gage offered, poking his head inside the tent. “You should grab some lunch. There’s still plenty of—”
“Let me guess. Eggplant Parmesan?” That was all they’d eaten since the night of the attack, when someone had rescued a giant vat of it from a burning restaurant. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. I stopped Kane’s meds, and I want to be here when he wakes up.”
“I stopped theirs, too,” Gage said, indicating the others. “It takes a while for the sedative to wear off. You’ve got time for a break.”
“That’s okay. I’m happy here.” She liked to think that Kane sensed her presence, so she never strayed too far from his side. She brushed back his hair and grinned at the blond roots pushing up from his scalp. His head resembled a zebra, blond on the bottom, black at the tips. “You’re getting a haircut when you wake up,” she whispered in his ear.
Outside, engines rumbled to life, followed by blowing thrusters that rippled the walls of the blanket tent. The noise intensified as it rose above the trees and then faded slowly into the distance. Doran ducked inside the tent while attacking a heaping bowl of food. With one cheek stuffed full, he pointed his fork at Kane in a silent question.
“He’s improving,” Cassia said, then recoiled from the smell of eggplant. “How can you keep eating that?”
“Because it’s damned delicious, that’s how.”
“Plus, it’s not beans,” Solara said, joining them. “No offense if you can hear me, Kane, but a girl can only take so much chili.”
Doran nudged his girlfriend. “Hey, that gives me an idea. Let’s load all the leftovers in the Banshee’s cooler before we leave.”
Cassia made a face. “Or not.”
“You’d better hurry,” Renny’s voice called from outside the tent. “Because your next job is loading our patients in the cargo bay. I want to be airborne by nightfall.”
“Midday’s even better,” Cassia suggested. Even with Ari Zhang dead and a shaky truce between the crew and the pirates, it wouldn’t be long before bounty hunters and hired mercenaries descended on Adel Vice to rescue the more influential guests trapped on the other side of the resort.
She sensed movement from the mattress, and all thoughts of pirates flew to her mind’s periphery as Kane began to stir. She tried to remember what she’d learned about grounding, a technique that was supposed to help him adjust more quickly by stimulating his five senses.