Chapter Twelve

The ship was huge.

At least, it was far larger than Theo had ever traveled in before. His family had always kept small personal craft intended for jaunts across the Core.

Jun’s ship was something else entirely.

Multiple decks equipped with winding corridors and mysterious doors, rust-streaked tunnels with rickety rungs leading between the decks at seemingly random intervals.

It was dim and eerily quiet. Theo’s steps echoed off the dark metallic walls as the ceiling panels either failed to light above him or flickered to life with a petulant whine of electricity. It should have been intimidating, and perhaps it was, but Theo couldn’t be bothered to worry about ambience when he was finally free to move about.

It was an absolute delight to explore after hours and hours of staring at the same four bare walls.

The three unlocked doors Theo had come across this far had all contained stacks of storage crates, all of them sealed except for one empty one. It was equal parts disappointing and intriguing.

He assumed some of the other doors lead to other bunks. He wondered how many people were required to man a ship this size. Surely a dozen at least.

He’d only met three of the crew besides Jun, and that was when they had first arrived.

Theo had been exploring the ship all morning and had yet to encounter another living soul besides Jun.

Jun, who had personally delivered another tray for breakfast—a second green fruit along with a bowl of dehydrated grain.

The fruit had been peeled.

Theo had thoroughly enjoyed their breakfast conversation, even if Jun’s contributions had largely consisted of monosyllabic grunts before he disappeared with a stern admonishment for Theo to finish his work.

It had taken Theo less than an hour of focused translation to abandon it for the option of exploration.

He could turn the translations over in his head as he wandered anyway.

He did his best work when he wasn’t concentrating too hard on it, to a lifetime of tutors’ and professors’ consternation.

Around the bend of the next corridor there was a lift, sparse and bare the way maintenance lifts often were. The doors appeared to have lost several battles with something the size of a rhinoceros, judging by the layered dents and scratches.

Theo trailed his fingers over the rough surface of the metal as he stepped inside, grateful when the lights blinked on without complaint, along with a control screen.

Three levels were indicated on the screen, showing that Theo was currently on the second level.

He put less than a second of thought into it before slapping the panel blindly, pleasantly surprised to discover he was to go down to the third level.

As soon as the doors of the lift opened, Theo was accosted by a wave of mechanical noise, accented by a repetitive metallic banging pounding away down the corridor.

Never one to leave a mysterious noise uninvestigated, Theo headed toward the source of the sounds.

The pounding was coming from what Theo now recognized as the engine room. Hulking pieces of machinery chugged away all around him in a calamitous din of clanking, banging chaos.

Marco was crouched over some kind of pipe, bringing a hammer down on it with considerable force.

Theo did not mind taking an extra moment to admire the way his arms bulged with the effort.

Marco’s curls were shaved close around the sides in what Theo was beginning to recognize as something of a trend in Outlier fashion, or at least among Jun and his crew.

He shifted on his feet, clanging noisily into another loose pipe. Marco’s head snapped up at that, and he nearly dropped his hammer as he startled at the sight of Theo.

Theo held up his hands, smile still in place. “Hello, I didn’t mean to alarm you. I was just exploring and found myself down here; thought I ought to make myself known.”

Marco pushed to stand, the enormous hammer dangling from his hand as he stared at Theo’s face. His brow furrowed as Theo spoke more and more rapidly from nerves.

It occurred to Theo rather suddenly that he was in a remote, enclosed space with a strange, large man holding a strange, large hammer.

“Although perhaps you would prefer that I didn’t,” Theo continued. “I can see that I’m disturbing you, so I’ll just make my way back. Wander out the way I came in. So sorry. Please, continue with whatever it is you are doing down here in such a manly fashion. Terribly sorry to have bothered you!”

Theo turned before Marco could speak a word or swing a hammer, and fled back the way he had come, bolting into the lift and only feeling silly about it once the doors began to close and he could glimpse Marco’s puzzled face through the small smudged window of the lift.

He hit the panel again. Heat rushed to his face as he considered his own awkwardness. Not the impression he had hoped to make upon the crew and his only possible allies out here in the dark.

The doors opened onto a well-lit corridor, with wall panels clean and maintained in a way he had yet to see elsewhere on the ship.

The lift screen indicated he was on the top deck. He stepped out into the immaculate corridor, and the doors closed behind him with a dull thud.

Laughter drifted down the hall, coming from a central room with double doors half-open to the corridor.

Theo made his way inside, then paused to watch Axel throw something into the air before catching it in his mouth, laughing once again at something on one of the seven vid-screens he had open in front of him.

He was sprawled across his chair, chrome-accented boots crossed on top of the dash of one of several control stations in what Theo was beginning to realize must be the bridge of the ship.

“Captain let you out for walkies?”

Theo jumped guiltily at Axel’s voice, then stepped farther into the room. Axel kept his eyes trained on his screens, several of which seemed to contain navigational data and numerical calculations while others showed entertainment vids, one of which was undeniably pornographic in nature. Theo wrinkled his nose at the sight of bouncing breasts.

Axel turned his head with a grin, and with a lazy swipe of his bionic arm, closed the entertainment vids, leaving four navigational screens open.

He popped another morsel into his mouth, managing to chew with a smirk as he looked Theo up and down, pale eyes glowing with mischief. “Didn’t expect to see you in here all alone, dollface. I kind of expected the captain to put a tracking band on you at the very least. But here you are, clogging up my cockpit with sunshine. You really are a looker, huh?”

Theo straightened his shoulders, tossing his hair out of his face as he stepped closer to Axel’s station. “I have free rein of the ship, just like you.”

Axel’s eyes fell to Theo’s lips knowingly, leaving Theo fighting a blush and the urge to wipe his mouth on the back of his hand. “How long did you spend on your knees to earn that? You should ask Park to invest in some quality kneepads. These floors can be hell on the joints.”

Theo bristled at the implication, never mind that in this instance it was indeed based on fact. He had spent the entirety of his academic career combating dismissive and patronizing responses to his work based on his age and appearance and, occasionally, his sexuality.

One crass green-haired pilot wasn’t going to shrink him down with a smirk.

“My name is Dr. Theo Campbell”—Theo put a biting edge to his voice, sharpening his accent until it was crisp and bright—“and I am working for Captain Park as a consultant in my field of expertise.” His rounded, plummy vowels emphasized his intellect. “I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand the value of my academic contributions, but I will demand the respect due to me as a fellow member of your Crew.”

Axel’s face went blank, then broke out into a slow grin, mouth softer and eyes sharper on Theo’s face. He held out a handful of puffed grain pellets, fragrant with cheese powder. “Fair enough, Doc. Want some cheesy puffs?”

Theo stepped closer with a shake of his head, looking over the dash of Axel’s control station with interest. “No, thank you. I find they don’t agree with me. What does that button do?”

Axel glanced at the dash, crowded with buttons of varying size and color, then back up at Theo and said with a wry tone, “Which button?”

Theo stepped close enough to touch the dash, his fingers hovering over a row of candy-colored buttons glowing faintly against the chrome. “All of them.”

Axel’s answering smile was as swift as it was bright, lighting up his face until he glowed like the dash. He dropped his boots to the floor and scooted closer to the buttons, eyes twinkling up at Theo. “You ever flown a class nine freighter before, Doc? Don’t tell the captain, but it’s easier than it looks. C’mere, I’ll show you a few things to get you started.”

He wiped his cheese powder–coated fingers on his tight-fitted gray trousers. Leading Theo’s fingers to a pale-blue button, he started a lesson on basic navigation and instrument flight that Theo found as intriguing as any lecture he had ever attended.

Axel, it would seem, was a born instructor. Theo had a feeling the pilot would not take that as the compliment he’d intend it to be, so he kept the thought to himself.

After a quarter hour of engaging lessons and intermittent supervised button pressing, Theo built up the confidence to start asking questions. “How many of you are there?”

Axel winked up at him as he guided Theo’s fingers through a complicated code sequence. “Can’t you tell? I’m a singular sensation, baby. One in a million. Often imitated but never repeated. The real deal.”

Theo bit his lip through a burst of laughter. Axel’s confidence was so overblown it went right past irritating into endearing. He could relate to that. “I meant to inquire about the crew. How many people are on Captain Park’s Crew? I’ve been exploring all morning and hardly come across a single soul. Though there is every possibility they may be avoiding me. It has been known to happen. Why, when I joined the faculty, professors practically made a sport out of ducking down hallways to get away from me.”

Axel shrugged, leaning back in his seat as he watched Theo slowly repeat the sequence with only one correction necessary, all the while switching idly through three different attachments at the end of his arm with a muted click and whirr. “Just the four of us—five now that he’s brought you on board. You already met everyone down in the loading bay. Don’t tell me you forgot Boom because I wouldn’t believe you.” His face assumed a dramatic far-off look. “She’s the terror in the night that haunts the dreams of wicked men, the scrape of metal down an abandoned hallway, that creeping sensation on the back of your neck when you hear footsteps in the dark.”

His eyes flitted up to Theo, gleaming with amusement at his shocked expression. “But seriously, she can be scary as shit, so let the captain deal with her if you get on her bad side. Also, don’t get on her bad side. Like, ever.”

He shuddered for effect.

Distracted from the buttons, Theo considered the small crew. He thought of all the closed doors down the winding corridors. “So few of you for such a large ship.”

Axel scoffed, fingers flying across projections over his screen. “She’s a big girl, but nothing I can’t handle. Never met a girl who didn’t fall for my irresistible charm immediately, and this ship is no different. Besides, what more do we need but an incredibly talented and handsome pilot, a terrifying security chief, a dedicated engineer, and, of course, our fearless leader?”

After closing out the screen he’d been working on, Axel turned to Theo. “Oh, and you. I guess we needed a pretty face on the team. I’m more dashing than pretty, myself.”

Theo tossed his hair back from his face at the compliment. He knew he had a pleasing countenance, but it was always nice to hear.

A quick snap of his fingers and Axel pointed at Theo. “Oh shit, no, you’re the brains, aren’t you? Well, we definitely needed more brains on the crew. We’ve been pretty heavy on the brawn. Captain Park is, like, 70 percent brawn, 30 percent scowl, 0 percent fun.”

The assessment earned a grin from Theo as he deemed it accurate, if incomplete. One must take into account Captain Park’s other qualities. Such as his steadfast dedication to his mission, or his strong, capable hands. Or his thick, beautiful— The point was, Jun was much more than brawn with a scowl.

Theo observed over Axel’s shoulder as the pilot squinted at a scrolling stream of data on one of the remaining screens. “Boom and Marco, they’re siblings, are they not?”

Axel nodded distractedly, fingers nimbly working across the screen. Theo watched in fascination as he flipped his arm to a stylus attachment and sketched out a diagram next to some calculations.

“Isn’t it lovely that they get to work so closely together? I have a twin brother, back home. We do everything together. Sometimes I wonder if we delved so far into academia just to be able to stay close, why we keep working in the same place even though our areas of interest differ so greatly. I miss him terribly, actually. His absence is like a stone in the bottom of my shoe, painful and constant and difficult to ignore. Are Marco and Boom anything like us, do you suppose?”

Axel gestured absently, frowning at his data as the numbers changed more and more rapidly. “Something like that. Captain couldn’t have hired one without the other; they’re a package deal. Paranoid, you know? Neither one will let the other out of their sight, too afraid to be separated again. Probably because they used to be Disconnects, grew up on one of those nature communes. You know the type. All farmland and sing-alongs. Basket weaving and hand-holding type shit.”

Theo had no idea what that meant, but it sounded lovely. Idyllic, in a pastoral sense. He cast a skeptical eye around their decidedly non-pastoral surroundings. “However did they go from a life like that to this?”

Axel’s face closed off, his gaze shifting as if he only just realized he may have said too much. “They hit a rough patch. Hey, you know what? I think you’re ready to graduate from buttons to switches; let’s try some of these.”

Theo allowed himself to be distracted by flicking switches for a few minutes. He waited until Axel started to relax before speaking again.

“I had the occasion to meet Marco earlier. Well, I say ‘met.’ Rather, I accidentally ran into him and tried to start a conversation, but the engine room was so loud I doubt he could hear me.”

Axel’s mouth softened with fond amusement. “Yeah, He’s not much for talking anyway. Can’t relate, personally. He may not have much to say, but he can take an engine apart and put it back together blindfolded, and it would run better than it did before. Plus, he’s stupid-fast on repairs. Park couldn’t get a better engineer if he wanted to.”

“And I don’t want to.”

They both jumped at the deep rumble of Jun’s voice.

“A better pilot, however”—Jun slowly walked closer—“I could definitely use one of those.” He glared at Axel. “What are you doing?” The expression on Jun’s face sent Axel straight to his feet, chair spinning slowly behind him.

Theo leaned against the dash with a smile. “Axel’s teaching me to fly the ship!”

Axel sputtered, putting distance between Theo and himself with a studied casualness that was anything but. “Not really, Captain. Just keeping him busy, you know, out of trouble and—”

“Look! I’m allowed to press all of these buttons!” Theo crowed with glee, demonstrating the code sequence Axel had taught him.

Jun looked at Axel the way a bored lion might look at a mouse. Not like he was hungry enough to eat it, but like he planned to kill it anyway.

Axel’s arm whirred and clicked through a few attachments, lightning fast. “Would you look at the time? I need to go do a thing real quick. On the other side of the ship, probably. You guys just chill here; I’ll be right back. In the morning. Maybe.”

Jun’s glare followed him until the door hissed shut and left them alone on the bridge.

Theo waited impatiently for Jun’s attention to return to him before toggling one of the switches Axel had assured him was harmless. “See? Another few days under Axel’s tutelage and I’ll be flying the ship!”

Jun stalked over and closed his hand around Theo’s wrist as he reached for another button. “You’re not going to be under Axel’s anything.”

Theo deftly turned his wrist to catch Jun’s hand, lacing their fingers together, and Jun puzzled down at their joined hands like he hadn’t been aware they could do that. “Oh? Is there another position open, then, Captain?”

Narrowing his eyes, Jun yanked his hand away and crossed his arms tightly. “I know what you’re doing.”

Theo stepped closer, allowing a single finger to trace the lines of Jun’s muscular arms with a grin. “Do you? Oh no. I thought I was being so subtle.”

After a glance up at the roving eye of a camera in the corner of the room, Jun stared back at Theo meaningfully. “Keep it off the bridge. No public areas. Understood?”

If anything, Theo only grinned harder, dutifully removing his finger from Jun’s forearm. “You would prefer for me to focus on your private areas, Captain. I understand perfectly.”

Despite Jun’s eyeroll paired with a groan, the corners of his mouth lifted just enough for Theo to suspect him of a smile. A smile was definitely implied. “Where are my translations?”

Theo hummed noncommittally, studying the wall of instruments to the rear of the command center. “I am still in the first phase of my work process.”

The wall was about as hard and unforgiving as Jun’s face. “Procrastination?”

Some of the screens had been left open. Theo couldn’t help reaching out for one, only to have Jun nudge him aside and close it with a harsh swipe. Theo shrugged at the loss and turned to perch on the edge of Axel’s station. “Less procrastination and more intentional distraction to allow my mind time to process without undue stress.”

Jun’s face remained within the realm of a scowl, but he managed to make the scowl appear skeptical. “Distraction is part of your process?”

Jun’s dry tone was unwarranted, in Theo’s estimation, given that he knew nothing about Theo’s work beyond a single barely published academic paper. “Oh yes, always has been. You are certainly not the first to doubt my process. You should see the behavior notes from all of my professors over the years, absolutely abysmal, every one. It was always ‘Theo is a chatterbox, Theo won’t stop daydreaming, Theo is incapable of maintaining his focus, Theo is easily distracted’ and never anything in the least complimentary; whereas, my brother always received a glowing report.”

For which Theo was not in the least resentful, or envious, or anything of the sort. Would it have been nice to have, just once, been the twin most deserving of praise? Of course, but it really wasn’t Ari’s fault he was such a quiet little delight of a mouse. Not any more than it was Theo’s fault he was a chaotic disaster.

Theo in no way resented the fact that Aristotle was a perfect student, and son, and colleague, while Theo had been more often described as “something of a nightmare.” He simply accepted what was, and stomped firmly down on any nagging, negative emotions associated with the comparison.

Theo picked up the tangled bit of wire cast aside on the dash and pulled at it carefully to wind into a coil around his finger, twisting the ends into little loops and lines. He held it up triumphantly after a few moments of concentration. “Ha. Look, Jun, I made a star in miniature!”

Jun’s face twitched into something very strange that was neither irritation nor amusement yet managed to convey a little of both. He plucked the star from Theo’s hands but didn’t crush it, the delicate figure held carefully in his palm.

“Get back to work. Now.” Jun’s voice held a familiar note of exasperation underscored by something warm. Theo hesitated to label it as fondness, painfully aware of the seductive powers of wishful thinking.

Theo thought back longingly about the still unpressed buttons as he trudged toward his room.

No one ever understood his process.