His mouth curves into a half smile. “So are you.” Jael cracks his eyes open to study me. For the first time I notice they’re a pale, icy blue, like frozen rivers in the Teresengi Basin. “I figured you’d freak when we vanished, but March said no.” He hesitates. “I’ve run with some tough bitches in my day, fought under a couple who were scarier than any men I’ve met, but they were mercs. I’ve never known a civchick to handle herself like you did. You were cool, Jax, dead cool.”
Is that a compliment? “I’m not at the top of my game right now.”
His eyes drift closed. “You should let the bot take a look.”
As I consider that, the workstation beeps, indicating an incoming transmission. To my surprise, when I accept the message, I find Vel’s face on-screen. “I got the comm channel back online, and I’ve sent a message to Chancellor Tarn, explaining the delay to our mission. He’s promised to get a cleanup crew out here as soon as possible.” Vel pauses. “His exact words were: ‘What the devil are you doing at Emry Station! You’re weeks off course!’ He doesn’t seem overly impressed with our heroism, Sirantha.”
I snort. “He wouldn’t.” The man’s a politician. They don’t give a shit about the welfare of individuals, only electoral points and obscure polls. A thought occurs to me. “Hey, if he cans me, would you serve with another ambassador, Vel?”
The bounty hunter considers. “No. From our past dealings, I know you are honest, and I could not bring such assurance to my kinsmen about another candidate.”
“I guess that makes me uniquely qualified, doesn’t it?” Talk about job security.
“It would seem so. Everything all right there?”
I nod. “We may as well choose quarters and get comfortable. It looks like we’re going to be here awhile. Did you get in touch with Dina?”
“Affirmative. The purge is complete as well. Emry should be secure now.”
March steps around the partition, looking damp and battered, but inexpressibly dear. “Much better. How’s our girl?”
“Still sleeping. How do you feel about station life?”
He cocks a brow at me. “It tends to be slow and boring. Why?”
“Because we’re in charge until the cleanup crew arrives.”
Jael and March swear in unison.
* * *
CHAPTER 22
Thus commence the longest days of my life.
There’s nothing like running an emergency station to make you feel like you’re alone in the universe. At first I live in fear that another Morgut ship will dock, and then I’m afraid New Terra will never send the promised crew.
By day eight, I’m genuinely worried we’ll be stuck here with dwindling supplies and a couple of kids. Staying much longer will drive me nuts. If I wanted this kind of life, I would’ve stayed where there’s a whole world to move around in. I need new sights and sounds, constant change, in order to keep from feeling twitchy, and the fact that I haven’t jumped in weeks only exacerbates my station fever.
To make matters worse, March insists on having the med-bot run some tests on me. I suppose it makes sense, but nobody on board can interpret the results, which leaves a diagnosis up to the emergency medical AI. Maybe it’s primitive of me, but I would feel better if Doc were here. I don’t think technology can figure out what’s wrong with me.
Until it does.
“Acute degenerative bone disease of unknown origin,” the AI says. “Recommend immediate and aggressive treatment via daily injections of vitamin D3, calcium, and phosphorus. If underlying cause cannot be determined, however, this regimen may provide only limited long-term therapeutic value.”
Bone disease? Jumpers don’t die of such an old woman’s illness. And I’m not that old. That can’t be right.
But a few days ago, the med-bot set the broken bones in my left hand. I’m wearing a small brace now to keep them in place while they heal—and that could take a while. No wonder Kora snapped my fingers like dry twigs.
March tries to smile, but I can tell he’s troubled. Well, that makes two of us. “Take your medicine. I’m sure you’ll feel better in no time.”
Maybe I don’t always eat right, but there’s no logical reason why I would come up calcium deficient. While undeniably disgusting, nutri-paste provides all necessary nutrients to maintain good health. And I suck down the stuff more than I’d like to admit, so it’s not like I’m living off cheap homebrew and sweets.
“You can’t possibly trust that thing,” I protest. “It’s probably a hundred years old. It’ll poison me.”
“It’s a sound program, Jax. And that thing saved Tiera and Vel.”
Tiera is the little girl. She has terrible nightmares, but she took to Kora straightaway. I hope she won’t remember much of this ordeal as she gets older.
We found the duty roster. Twelve souls died here, including her parents. Tiera doesn’t seem to understand the idea that they’re gone for good. She’s too young to learn something so painful—that sometimes people don’t come back.
Like always, I think of Kai. Part of me will always ache for him. A divided heart offers a strange sensation. I love March enough to die for him, but I still miss Kai. Is that wrong? Do other people feel like this? Sometimes he feels agonizingly close, as if he’s watching me, as if I could touch him. I never would have believed it possible before. Medical science disproved it. But I’ve seen miracles in my day.
By his taut expression, March knows what I’m thinking, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s impossible to lie to him, and I wouldn’t want to, even if I could. He has to take me as I am, broken bits and all.
“I do,” he says. “But you’re not going to get better by ignoring the problem, and I won’t lose you.” His voice comes out raw.