“Not if we use the de-animator,” he says in a weak voice, pointing to the previous device with a limp finger.
“Assuming it works! Assuming you have it on when you need it on! Assuming there are no glitches, and I can tell you from personal experience that glitches are pretty common with Baebong’s shit! They’d have our ship, they’d have a picture of what happened, and they’d have all the reason they’d need to hunt us down, take us apart panel by panel and limb by limb, and then reverse engineer the fucking thing and make a million of them to put all over their ships!” I’m glaring at the three amigo-troids now, not bothering to hide my disappointment. “Do you see the problem yet, or do I need to give you more horrific detail?!”
Tam holds up his hands to calm me down. “You had me at limb by limb. No need for more detail, we get it.” He sighs and looks at his friends. “Maybe we should hold off on this one for now.”
“Yeah,” I say, laughing bitterly. “Not just for now but forever. Kill that thing with fire.” I turn to go.
“But what about the other things I have to show you?” Baebong asks. He almost sounds like he wants to cry.
“Start with what you’ve already shown me and leave it at that for now.” I don’t even what to know what other Frankenweapons he has cooked up for my life, and my temper can only take so much. I haven’t had nearly enough sleep for this shit.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Gus says, sounding like he’s trying to cheer me up. “We’re on it! You can count on us!”
“I still think we should have it ready,” Baebong mumbles as I reach the portal door.
I don’t bother turning around. “Mount that, and I’ll mount your head right next to it.” The door slides shut behind me at my last word.
My footsteps are heavy as I drag my sorry butt to the kitchen. Next in line … a little convo with Jeffers. Might as well shoot the whole herd. No more hiding behind linen for that guy. I need to know who he is and what he’s all about, so I can stop worrying he’ll be the one to slit my throat someday.
Chapter Six
I FIND JEFFERS IN THE pantry counting pressure-locked canisters of edible seeds.
“I hope you don’t plan to count every single grain in here.” I lean in the doorway, hoping there’s no residual annoyance at the three amigo-troids left in my tone. Jeffers shouldn’t have to pay for the sins of others.
He turns around and offers me a warm smile. “I’m known for my attention to detail, but not that much.” He pauses in the middle of putting a canister back on the shelf. “Are you all right?” Turning more fully, he faces me, putting the electronic minder holding his inventory checklist on a table at his side.
“I’m fine. Just had to veto a certain weapon from being mounted on our exterior, which disappointed some people.”
Jeffers gives me an understanding grin. “The twins. They do love their firepower.”
“Not just them; Baebong too. Do you know what they had planned in there?”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
I shake my head. “Don’t bother. It’s not gonna happen.” I gesture with my chin at the shelves behind him. “How’s it going in here?”
“Well enough. I should be done by day’s end.”
“Good.” I stare at the floor for a few seconds, trying to get him to ease up. He’s too alert for my next moves, for my plans to get inside his head. “So, are you happy here?” I look up to see him shrug.
“Yes, I am.”
“And you were happy with Langlade as captain?”
“I suppose I was, yes.”
“Where were you before you were here with him?”
“On another ship.”
“What ship?”
“It was a cargo ship. Not one you’ve probably heard of. Worked in the outer reaches.”
I give him a tight smile. “You’d be surprised. Try me.” Part of my training was to memorize any and all ships that might be of interest to the OSG, and they were often planning troop and supply runs. Cargo ships are always on the list of assets to be commandeered in an emergency.
“CS Castaneda.”
I nod. “I’ve heard of it. Captained by C.R. Cooksey.”
If I’m not mistaken, Jeffers’ complexion has gone a little pale. “Oh. So you know him.”
“Not well.” I take my knife out and use the tip of it to clean a fingernail. With my peripheral vision, I see Jeffers spread his legs just the tiniest bit. Yeah. He’s definitely battle ready.
I slide my knife back into its holster and smile at Jeffers. “You’ve got secrets, old man.”
“We all have secrets. Even you, young lady.”
I laugh. “Nice. Put me in my place. Well done.” I stop leaning on the doorway and distribute my weight equally across both feet. “I need to know that I can trust the people around me.”
“You can trust me, Cass. I promise.” He lowers his head, but keeps his eyes on me. It’s a sign he doesn’t trust me at the same time he’s telling me to believe him. It’s not very inspiring.
“So said every double-dealing snake I’ve ever known. Tell me who you really are and where you really come from, and then maybe I’ll let you stay.”
He looks around. “Where else would I go?”
I shrug. “Off my boat. After that, it’s none of my concern.” I’d hate to lose him because he’s obviously well-respected here and has knowledge and skills we could use, but if I have to constantly worry about him one day using his battle training against me, it won’t be worth it to keep him on the crew. I can’t live a peaceful life if I’m jumping at every shadow.
He stands there staring at me for the longest time. I’m starting to think he’s gone catatonic when he finally speaks.
“I have worked for a long time to leave my past behind me.”
“And I respect that. But in my experience, a person’s past often comes back to bite him in the ass if left solely in the six o’clock position.”
He bows his head for a second before looking at me again. “I hear what you are saying, and I respect that as well. But my past is much farther behind than yours is, and that is where it needs to stay.”
Inside I’m regretting his potential future loss, but outside it won’t show. I can’t afford the weakness, especially where this guy is concerned. He’s sharper than the others. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t miss a trick. “Fine. You can get off at our next stop. No harm done.” I turn to go.
“I do like being here,” he says at my back, his slightly pleading tone the only sign I’ve received so far that he has any kind of vulnerability to him.
“And we do love having you here.” I pause before leaving the area. “But like I said, I don’t like secrets. I need to know who I’m with, especially when I’m about to give them my blood oath.”
“You’re willing to share your past with everyone here?”
I look over my shoulder. “I already have. Now it’s your turn.” I leave him to mull that over, since I know pushing him will get me nowhere in a hurry and probably build the walls between us that much higher. He needs to understand that I’m serious, and even though he’s an old soul, it doesn’t mean those years have earned him an exception to my rules. I will do whatever I need to in order to survive out here, and that starts with building a family around me in whose hands I can place my safety. My life, even. There is no room for secrets in a family like the one I’m creating.
Chapter Seven
THE ANTECHAMBER TO THE BIOGRID is quiet. The stench is still going strong, though, making me smile at Lucinda’s ingenuity. She’s a real asset I’d hate to lose, not only for her horticultural knowledge and creative engineering smarts, but also because without her, I’d be the sole female on board. In my experience, life is a lot more interesting when there are more of us around to curtail the things men are bound to get up to when no female is around to hear it or see it. Or smell it.
The last ship I hitched a ride on had an all-male crew, and the stench on that thing rivaled a goatherd’s biodo
me, even though there wasn’t a single goat in sight. In fairness, the ride I’d hopped before that one was with an all-female crew, and I wasn’t able to get the odor of faux flowers out of my hair for a week.
After hitching rides around the galaxy for the last three years, I’ve found I’m more a happy medium kind of person. One might even say I crave balance in all things, which would explain why the uneven power share enjoyed by the OSG rankles so much. Just the thought of it gets me all fired up again. Frigging Overshine. Coming onto my ship and demanding to see my water levels. Who does he think he is?
As I reach the portal that leads into the actual biogrid, I do my best to erase that ‘troid from my mind, preparing myself for the confrontation I’m sure to find ahead. Following the sounds of voices, I locate Lucinda and her apprentice, Rollo. They’re standing in between some towers of green tomatoes, looking up.
“That would be a lot of work for Rollo, too,” he finishes saying when Lucinda notices me standing behind him and turns to face me.
“Right on time,” she says, annoyed, if her tone is anything to judge by.
“Right on time for what?”
She jerks a thumb in Rollo’s direction. “Your stowaway has informed me that everything that needs to be done in the biogrid is too much work for him.”
I lift a brow. “Is that so?”
Rollo spins around. “No, Rollo didn’t say that.” He looks at her with desperation in his eyes. “Don’t put words in Rollo’s mouth. Rollo was just saying that it’s a lot of work. Like, more work than other biogrids. More than on a biodome, even. You can’t expect Rollo to handle this himself. Rollo is a businessman, not a brownshins. Rollo has soft, supple hands. They’re no good for digging.”
“You wouldn’t be by yourself,” I say, ignoring his ridiculous excuse. I noticed his hands earlier, and they look just as calloused as mine do. “Lucinda is here. Jeffers helps from time to time, too.”
“It’s still not enough!” He points at Lucinda. “Have you seen what she does in here? No wonder she never sleeps. It’s crazy! You should check her chest for a circuit board. She can’t be a mere human.”
“Touch my chest, and you die,” she says through gritted teeth.
I can’t tell if her threat is for Rollo or me, but I ignore it in favor of a little redirection. “Why don’t you give me the tour, Lucinda?”
She shrugs. “I already gave you one, but if you want another…” She turns to go down the aisle.
“Give me the same one you gave Rollo.” Now that I’ve had a full night’s sleep, my brain is thinking more clearly, and one thing’s for sure: Rollo is right. This is too much for one person. Hell, it’s too much for ten. How is she getting this done?
I follow her past row after row of tomatoes. Trying to keep my eyes from bugging out at the sheer volume of food in the grid becomes more difficult as every footstep falls behind me. Some kind of miracle is going on here. There’s no way she did this herself. I start to feel uneasy as that fact settles in. Who else was involved in this?
She’s going on about the types of tomatoes and then the squash she has growing from tubes and towers, all seeded hydroponically in tiny bulbs of cotton fibers, when I finally have to interrupt her.
“Lucinda.”
“Yes?” She stops walking and turns halfway to face me.
“Who helped you build this?”
She shrugs. “Jeffers.”
“And?”
“And sometimes Tam. When he has time.”
I wait for more. There has to be more.
She glares at me, but I wait her out. I’m not nearly as stupid as she’d like to think I am.
“What?” she finally says.
“What? I’m waiting for your answer is what.”
“That’s my answer.”
I shake my head. “Buzz…wrong answer.” I cross my arms. “Tell me the truth.”
“I am telling you the truth.”
“No, you’re telling me the partial truth.” I glance up at the pipes above our heads. “There is no way in the universe that you and a few crewmate helpers put this up yourselves. I respect your skills, Lucinda, I really do, but that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot. Who was on this ship building this infrastructure with you?”
Her face turns red, but her teeth remain locked together.
“Fine. Have it your way.” I grab her arm and start dragging her to the front of the grid.
“What are you doing?! Get your hands off me!” She reaches out to grab something to halt her progress, but only manages to break off several leaves. She lets them fall and scatter on the floor in our wake. Giving up on that method of escape, she starts hitting my hand that is latched onto her wrist.
Furious that she thinks it’s okay to attack me when I’m simply enforcing the rules on the ship like any captain would —in fact, in a much nicer way than any other captain would— I pause to turn around and yell at her. “Enough!” My face is mere centimeters from hers. “Touch me again, and I’ll deliver you to the brig unconscious!”
Instead of listening to me and cowing down like a smart girl would, she tries to pry my hand off again, digging her nails into my skin in the process and notching my frustration level up about thirty degrees.
If she keeps it up, I’m going to have to follow through on my promise to knock her out, and while I really don’t want to do that, she’s forcing me into a corner, and it has me seeing red.
Without another thought to the consequences or her possible reaction, I slap her, right across the face. It works to stop her efforts at escape, but not before she lifts some of the skin off of the back of my hand with her fingernails.
She’s holding her cheek and staring at me like I just killed her puppy, her arm in my possession going limp. “You hit me!” Her body begins to tremble all over.
“Yes, Lucinda, I did. You failed to follow my orders. You resisted my taking you into custody and drew blood in the process.” We both look down at my bleeding hand. It stings like a bee got me, and I should know; I once worked in an abeillary.
“I asked you a direct question, and your answer was a lie.” I drop her wrist to face her more fully. “I’ve told you on countless occasions that I’m in charge here and my word is the law, and yet at every opportunity, you’ve been disrespectful, rude, and challenging.” I wipe the sweat from my brow before continuing; it’s damn hot in this biogrid, especially when I’m all worked up. “I don’t mind a challenge now and again, but when it comes at every turn, it’s too much and not acceptable.”
I wave my arm around at the mechanics that surround us. “You didn’t do this with your skeleton crew. There’s no way, no how, and nothing you say will have me believing that. I’ve lived in this stuff for years. I know what it takes to put it together, to design it, to keep it going… You’re great, but you’re not a god.” I take a deep breath in and out to try and calm myself. Her mutinous expression is not making self-control easy. “Listen, I get that you’ve been autonomous in here for a long time, and who knows what you were doing before? I have to assume much the same, since you’re so good at it. But that life is over. You’re not alone anymore. You’re part of my team, and being part of my team means you have to be honest.”
“Like you were honest with us?” she says in a bitchy tone, her chin going up. She’s still holding her cheek like I made it bleed or something.
“Yes, like I’ve been honest with you.”
“You didn’t tell us you were OSG until you had to. Until you were exposed.”
“I’m not OSG,” I say, my teeth grinding together. “There was nothing to tell. And right now, all you need to know is that this is my ship, I’m the captain of it, and I’m asking you who built this goddamn grid.”
I wish I knew how to reach her through that attitude. I could swear she’s on the brink of revealing something, but she’s battling with herself over it. Probably weighing the risks of revelation against being kept onboard as a prisoner. My internal radar is pinging like cr
azy. There’s something she doesn’t want me to know, and it directly relates to her and who she is, not just this biogrid. I can feel it in my bones.
“What’s your big secret, eh, Lucinda? What don’t you want me to know about you?”
Her hands drop away, her arms going stiff at her sides. She grabs the edges of her lab coat sleeves near her wrists and pulls on them in her frustration and nervousness, making her coat draw away from her neck on both sides, exposing the skin underneath. The hollow by her collarbone is now revealed when before it had always been covered in my presence.
“Nothing,” she insists. “There’s nothing about me that’s a secret.”
As the jacket moves even farther away from her neck, I grin. The harder she pulls that lab coat, the clearer it becomes for me. Talk about secrets … she’s got a whopper of one hiding just under her lab coat, and it’s almost as good as me being former OSG. I’ll be damned…
Chapter Eight
SHE STOPS HER FIDGETING AND folds her arms across her chest, the material of her coat once again covering her markings. “Why are you smiling at me like that?”
I shrug. All the tension has seeped out of me and left me feeling nearly weightless.
“Quit it. It’s making me nervous.”
Rollo coughs. “Uhhh, can Rollo be excused?”
“No!” Lucinda and I say loudly and in tandem.
She blinks at me, refusing to be amused at our mutual annoyance at her helper.
“Lucinda,” I say, trying to bring her around with my friendly tone, “come on … are you going to tell me your big secret or am I going to lock you up?” I have to work really hard not to laugh, I’m so happy. This is such an unexpected bonus. Who would’ve thought?
“On what charges?” she asks, tapping her toe.
She actually thinks she has a leg to stand on when she most definitely does not. Now that I know what she is —who she is— she’s completely and totally without a single defense for her actions. I thought she was in deep shitflakes before with this biogrid growing under her former captain’s nose, but now that I know this little secret about her, it makes her actions that much more duplicitous. She didn’t just build this thing and start growing crops; she had a damn army of people in here doing it.