I wonder if I could sneak into his room while he's elsewhere and bathe. I like the thought of leaving a grimy ring around his tub and him scratching his chin at the sight…but then he'd probably figure out he's got a stowaway.
So that's out.
Even so, I look at the bath longingly. Sinking into all that hot water looks amazing. I itch at my dirty skin—I'm covered in dust from the ducts—and then I inch my way along, leaving the bad guy's luxurious room behind. After seeing him bathe, I'm thirsty and my throat feels scratchy. I crawl along carefully toward the spot I located a few days ago—where one of the pipes that chugs along with the strange engine drips condensation. The cup I have under the drippy spot is half full, and I pick it up and choke the contents down. Mmm, metal.
I lick the cup because the water's gone entirely too quickly, and my stomach growls. I pull out the food supplies I have stashed up here, but the bags are empty. That's my fault—I was feeling sorry for myself last night and ended up eating the entire bag of dried noodles. To be fair, they tasted salty and delicious.
To be even more fair, this might also be why I'm super thirsty today. Frowning to myself, I gather up the trash and my empty cup and clutch it to my chest, slithering through the air ducts on toward the mess hall. I always feel a bit like a super-spy when I slink through the ducts above the others. It's something I noticed in the endless time on the Buoyant Star—the overhead ductwork in these ships tends to curl around the engine and the pipework, and as a result, there's a lot of crawl-room. I was the one that cleaned the filters on the Star, and so when I slipped away from the clone guards that night after making excuses about going to the bathroom, I immediately went to the ducts and hid.
My goal back then was to spy on Lord Straik and see what he was up to. If I'd have known that he'd take off and abandon my friends at the edge of space I'd…I'd…
I don't know what I'd have done. Something bad, though. I frown to myself as I shimmy forward, because my brain isn't supplying what the bad thing is that I could do to him. I have gaps in my head, like Helen. It's that cryo-sleep stuff, I think, that messed with my memories. I hid it from Alice and Jade, not wanting to seem helpless, but it worries me. Did the pod stuff damage my brain? I try not to think about it, because I can't fix it. It's not like there's a human brain doctor anywhere around, and even if I could go back to Earth, it's not like I could tell anyone, "Yes, I was abducted by aliens and they put me to sleep for a while and I think it fucked my brains over. Can you tell me what that furry, barking thing on the leash is?"
I don't think it's a big problem anyhow. So I can't remember certain things. Others are crystal-clear in my head. I have enough to function, so I'm good. It's not like I need a ton of Earth info now, considering I'm in deep space.
I just need to know enough to destroy Lord Straik.
And so far from what I can tell? He likes bathing. A lot. And sleeping on the floor, but that's just weird. But maybe I can use his love of bathing against him.
My head whirling with possibilities, I climb down toward the mess hall to wait.
3
STRAIK
My crew is acting…strange.
The a'ani are not pleased about the fact that I've abandoned the va Sithai brothers on the Star. The brothers were friendly with the crew—moreso than they were with me—and it doesn't sit well with my men. They give me sullen looks when they think I am not paying attention. They do not talk to me as they used to. They avoid my presence.
It bothers me.
Do they think I chose to do so deliberately? That I enjoyed abandoning the others? I head to the ship's gym to get a good workout and relieve some of the stress in my body. As I enter the gym, I see Kazex—the new head of security after Dopekh's unfortunate incidents—climb off of the treadmill. He gives me a crisp nod of greeting and immediately turns to leave.
"Wait," I call out.
The a'ani pauses, his red shoulders stiffening. He turns toward me, his expression cool. "What can I help you with, Lord Straik?" His tone is polite, but I do not feel the respect I once had from them. The camaraderie.
I tell myself I don't need it.
"Have you noticed anything amiss on the ship lately?" I ask.
"I have not."
"Nothing at all?" I frown. "Nothing feels off to you?" I can't quite put my finger on it, but I've owned the Darkened Eye for a few years now, and it has never felt like this to me. Like the ship itself is watching me and finding me wanting. Perhaps it's my guilty imagination.
The a'ani stiffens. "If you have a problem with how I perform my job, sir—"
"I do not," I say crisply before we can go down that path. That wasn't what I was implying at all. "Forget I asked. I was merely…curious if something seemed strange to you. I don't know how to describe it. Perhaps it's just my imagination."
He nods at me and turns to leave. Then he pauses. "There have been a few…incidents with the men."
"Incidents?" I practically pounce on the word. Maybe this is the strange vibe I've been sensing. "What sort of incidents?"
"Missing food," Kazex says. "The supply count is off as of yesterday's inventory. No one claims to know anything."
I'm disappointed. This is the big problem? This is the dissonance I've been feeling in my normally perfectly run ship? "Are we in danger of starving before we reach our destination, Kazex?"
"No, sir."
I shrug. "Then let the men eat what they wish. You know I don't hold my crew to specific nutritional amounts a day, unlike some. You are free men, you are allowed to eat as much as you like."
He nods, still slightly bothered looking. "Thank you, sir. Of course."
"Anything else?"
"No."
I fight back my disappointment. Perhaps it is my guilty conscience, then. "Thank you for your thoughts, Kazex. If you notice anything else, please do not hesitate to bring it to my attention."
He nods and slips out of the gym, leaving me alone with the equipment. I put my hands on my hips and survey the room. The “off” feeling lingers, like a thin film dragged over my horns, just enough to be noticeable.
Food, Kazex says. As if I care if someone is snacking at night. Let them eat what they like. We have bigger problems. With that in mind, I climb onto the treadmill and set it to a punishing pace.
Working out doesn't quiet my head. My thoughts whirl in circles, going round and round about the Buoyant Star. The slaves. The Star. The slaves. Restless, I get off the treadmill and towel myself down, then head out. I should go to my rooms and clean off, but when I come out, I see two of the clones talking at the far end of the hall. They go quiet the moment they see me, and one walks away.
I tell myself it's fine. After all, I'm not a captain that demands constant salutes and groveling from his crew. But in the past, my relationship with my men has been a pleasant one. We're not close. I don't allow anyone to be close. But it was friendly. Companionable. As if we're all in this journey together. If the ship has a good haul, we all profit. Maybe that's what's off. The crew is acting distinctly chilly toward me.