EIGHT

NOD

Fixed stuff, then fixed more stuff.

Every time I patch up Hound of Difficulty, it gets damaged all over again.

Offspring and I would be better off on a freighter, I tell it.

Hound just laughs.

Thanks me for fixing stuff.

Patching up holes in hull armour.

Replacing worn components.

Printing more bullets.

More torpedoes.

Grateful to have offspring helping me.

Many faces make light work.

Make engine work.

Little ones are fast learners. Can already strip down and reassemble defence cannon. Coffee maker. Air filter.

So, we work.

Always work, hardly rest.

Put stupid ship back together for hundredth time.

Work.

But sometimes.

Sometimes pause.

Sometimes wonder about Chet.

Chet was engineer on Lucy’s Ghost.

Chet died.

Wonder at meaning of last words.

White ships are cousins, he told Johnny.

Not understanding.

Chet drowning in internal fluids when spoke.

Maybe brain affected.

Maybe Johnny misunderstood.

Maybe nonsense.

Or maybe important.

But can’t wonder long. Too much work. Too many holes in Hound of Difficulty.

If determined to kill self, I tell it, be simpler to crash into heart of star.

Hound laughs again.

Hound likes Nod.

Nod likes Hound.

Even if Hound stupid sometimes.