“I have an update for you,” he said.
“Come inside.” She widened her cabin door and stepped back.
Dante hesitated, then ducked to enter, his shoulders barely squeezing through the width. His gaze immediately shot to a rigid Sparky, teeth bared the way they’d been when she’d deactivated him as he’d lunged at Althea. She’d removed him from the locker and stood him in the corner. She couldn’t interact with him, but just having his body there made her feel a little less lonely.
Miranda rubbed her hands together. “What did you find out?”
“All two hundred twelve New Utopians have been accounted for and are in the unit.”
“Are you sure?” She could almost swear more colonists had disappeared since yesterday.
“Lieutenant Commander Brack had the ship’s computer do a lifeform scan, and then on my orders, a manual headcount.”
Yes, she’d been through the roll call. With the rest of the colonists, Miranda had lined up in the corridor while the obviously annoyed lieutenant commander had marched through the unit with a personnel recorder. The look she’d shot Miranda had made it plain she knew who was responsible for the assignment she considered beneath her rank.
Check and double-check. Data didn’t lie. If everyone was present and accounted for, then obviously Miranda’s impression had been in error. She felt more than a little embarrassed at having caused such a ruckus. She’d involved the ship’s first officer and its captain!
She needed to let it go. But…but…“If everyone is accounted for, then where’s Althea? Warren Ochoa?”
“Lieutenant Commander Brack informed me she relieved Mr. Ochoa of his duty as liaison and will be appointing someone else. As for your friend…” He glanced at Sparky, his face locked in a snarl. “Perhaps she chose to bunk with another colonist.”
But why hadn’t she seen Althea in the corridor or encountered her in the mess hall? Wouldn’t Althea have had the courtesy to inform her she was moving permanently?
Not necessarily. She’d vanished once before with no warning or explanation, and then Sparky had attacked her. She could be afraid of coming to the cabin.
“She probably is rooming with somebody else.” Miranda hunched her shoulders, feeling really embarrassed now. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. For listening to me, for checking. I’m sorry for causing such a fuss.” She shook her head. “I really thought colonists were…I was wrong. I promise I won’t bother you anymore.”
His lip quirked in what could have been a smile. “Does that mean you don’t want me to look at Sparky?”
She dropped her jaw. “You still want to?”
“That is the other reason why I came to see you.” A real grin widened on his face.
She was stunned by the transformation. Stone Cold had vanished. Dante’s whole face lit up, erasing the grimness, the fierceness. Her mouth dried, and she realized she was gawking.
She wished the situation could be different. Since their talk yesterday when he’d listened so attentively to her half-baked theories she’d begun thinking of him as Dante and not “the captain.” But he was the captain. He would never be interested in a lowly New Utopian archivist, and in any case, she would be leaving the ship soon while he would remain with his vessel. They would never see each other again.
But she wanted to spend this afternoon with him. Her first impression had been that he was cold and heartless, but he was exactly the opposite. He genuinely cared about the colonists and had done what he could to help her. Sparky had bitten him, and yet he was willing to try to fix him because he knew how important the dog was to her.
Her father’s untimely death and the Tyranian attack had demonstrated that tomorrow couldn’t be taken for granted. Tragedies could happen at any time. Falling for Dante might lead to heartbreak when they parted company, but in the meantime, she’d have one afternoon of his company. And, maybe he could fix Sparky.
“Thank you. I would like that very much,” she said.
She picked up the K9 bot and stroked his silky fur. “You’re a good dog. Dante’s going to fix you.” Embarrassment flooded her face as she realized she’d slipped and used the captain’s given name. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to say that.”
An emotion flashed in his eyes before it banked. “I liked hearing you say my name. I like even more that you think of me as Dante,” he said hoarsely.
Her lips parted in surprise, and she could almost feel the temperature in the cabin rise as the heat sizzled. She hung onto Sparky and stared at Dante. She felt sure her longing must be reflected on her face.
“Let’s take a look at your dog,” he said gruffly.
* * * *
The colonists shot her sympathetic glances as she marched beside Dante with Sparky clutched in her arms. Probably they assumed she’d gotten in trouble and the K9 bot was being confiscated.
The guards, however, didn’t even blink as they exited the colonists’ area. Of course, the ship’s captain and anyone with him could come or go as they pleased. And Dante himself cut an imposing figure. She supposed that even if he hadn’t been the captain, few would challenge him.
However, the presence of security showed the impossibility of a colonist leaving the quarantine area and strengthened her conviction that she had been wrong.
They strode through passageways that all looked alike. Function superseded comfort or aesthetics on the warship, and there wasn’t much to see—just a lot of dull, gray metal, making her appreciate the relative comfort and awesome views of the observation lounge. Finally they reached the robotics lab.
She expected technicians to be busy at work, but the lab was vacant.
“The lab isn’t used much,” Dante explained.
“You don’t have androids on the ship?”
“Some—in case we encounter biological weapons or need a bomb diffused. Haz mat bots undergo regular, routine servicing so we’ve never had one malfunction.”
“Sparky has never been in for maintenance,” she said.
“How long have you owned him?”
“Ten years. There have been no changes to his software since my father gave him to me.”
“He shouldn’t have needed much in the way of upgrades. A K9-500 is much less complex than a military haz mat android. The simpler the robot, the less likely it will malfunction.”
Of course the K9-500’s programming differed from a haz mat bot’s, but she took exception to the description of simple. However, Dante hadn’t meant to insult Sparky, and he was trying to help, so she tamped down the flash of irritation.
“Here, let me have him.” He took him from her arms. “His fur is quite soft. Very realistic.” He petted him as he carried him to a work table. “His bark sounded lifelike, too.” Dante switched on an overhead screen, wheeled over a cart of equipment, and withdrew a cord from a drawer. “First, I’ll run a scan while he’s inactive.”
“The access panel is on his left side.” She felt around his fur for the release button and depressed it. A panel popped open to reveal his computer innards.