34: Starship Morning
I woke blissfully alone. Wherever Skalet was, I trusted she’d get herself off this ship. Admittedly, part of me enjoyed the image of my web-kin languishing in a Commonwealth prison as a Kraal spy, but the rest of me was sensibly aware Skalet wouldn’t “languish” an instant longer than she chose and why borrow trouble.
Keep her word? That I didn’t trust. On the thought, I lurched from the box. It overturned, spreading synth-grass in a new, more alluring orientation, because who really wanted to be constrained in a box—not that I noticed, too busy rushing around the small cabin in a feverish hunt.
The imploder sat where my breakfast should be, snug in its stealth bag.
I kept a hand under my loosening jaw, in that shocked moment realizing how very little I’d believed Skalet trusted me. I’d have felt guilty, except I realized something else at the same time.
I was now the one stuck with smuggling the weapon off the ship, onto an alien world, and into the Commonwealth Embassy. Skalet’s sneaky bag better work.
Family.
Time to pack.
“I’ll carry that for you, Fem Ki.”
I snatched my carryall from the reach of the too-helpful ship’s steward and clutched it to my broad scaly chest, appalled to risk discovery so soon.
The Human’s eyes widened, then she composed herself. “I meant no offense.”
Paul frowned at me, so I curled a wan lip. “Snacks.” I hugged the bulging bag closer.
The steward, assigned to clean up the last time my digestive system had malfunctioned, stepped clear at once.
My carryall did contain snacks; I’d helped myself to a few items from the guest galley after breakfast, because you never knew when starvation—or queasy stomachs—might strike. It also contained my precious lantern, causing me no little anxiety.
Paul put his hand on my arm as we followed the steward. “We won’t be back.” He tipped his head toward my room. “Sure you have everything?”
Translated, that was is Skalet out of the way? “Yes, I’m sure. This isn’t my first time packing,” I said loftily, then added for the steward. “Loved the box. Very thoughtful.”
She glanced back and smiled. “Glad to be of service, Fem Ki.”
Not the moment to mention the synth-grass spread to every corner of the room.
We didn’t gather Evan up in our procession but went from this corridor to a lift. After a quick drop, the doors opened on the spacious circular hold that served the ship as a staging area for those coming or going out the main air lock. Expedient and direct; I’d the distinct feeling Captain Clendon had had enough of strangers in his ship.
“Hello.” Evan was waiting for us with his liaison, the Human Trili Bersin; both smiled a pleasant, if reserved greeting. They were dressed more formally, making Paul’s dark jacket an appropriate choice. If a tad dated. We simply had to go shopping offworld.
My Lishcyn-self was fussing. I put a stop to it by arranging the three fingers of my free hand as a frame to my formal wear, the beaded neck bag that should hold my lantern.
Instead, it held an Octarian Quandran Imploder, snug inside a Kraal-designed anti-scan sac. If I thought complaining to Skalet would be anything but futile, and possibly demeaning, I’d put this at the top of my list—
With a sigh, I turned my attention to the others here.
Evan noticed and made introductions. “This is Commander Kamaara, the Mistral’s Head of Security.”
I’d noticed Humans in such posts tended to develop frown lines. Kamaara’s might have been carved into her broad forehead. They didn’t ease when she gave Paul and me a nod acknowledging our existence and her dislike of civilians in general.
No names were provided for the two security guards standing at attention on either side of our exit from the ship, understandable given they wore the light body armor Rudy referred to as “let’s intimidate,” their faces obscured by black sensoscreens.
I curled a friendly lip anyway, because I’d noticed Humans smothered in pointless armor appreciated it. And one of the matched set was probably Skalet.
Paul thought so, too, by the way he ignored the guards. He took his bag from the steward and thanked her. “We’re ready when you are, Polit Gooseberry.”
Our friend nodded. He had the appearance of a being heading into trouble, braced for it, but above all hopeful it could be avoided. Exactly right, I thought, proud of him. Though I could wish the hope in his eyes didn’t increase when he looked my way.
I’d a plan to deal with his attention. The sort of plan Skalet detested and that worried Paul immensely. That didn’t mean, I reminded myself, it wouldn’t work.
Make it up as I go.