Space Cowboy Survival Guide

by Long, Heather

  8

  Rule #30 Don’t argue with a woman unless you have on body armor and you’re right. Be sure about the body armor.

  9-A

  After confessing to the captain, Nina was able to sleep. In fact, Nina slept for the better part of a day. At some point, Tika woke her with an offering of soup. Nina sat long enough to drink all of the proffered bowl while Tika held it steady. The younger girl shouldn't have fussed over her, yet Nina couldn't help but admit she rather enjoyed the sensation of having someone care.

  It seems ages since anyone had…if ever. The only memories left in her fractured mind all dated to her incarceration. She remembered dark cells, two bright rooms, cold sterile conditions, and physicians — so many physicians.

  Some distant part of her mind had catalogued some of those shadowy figures who worked on her as technicians and not necessarily physicians but it still seemed like doctors and their task should have been help her. They didn't. For the better part of their time on the planet Shaw had labeled EA-955, she slept. She slept, had some soup, then slept again.

  When they first mentioned disembarking on the planet to run errands and do repairs, Shaw advised she should stay on board and rest. The knife injury she inflicted upon herself healed slower than expected. Not that it mattered, she didn’t want to get in the way and rest was the best thing for her. To be honest, she couldn’t recall the last time she slept so well. The sheets were soft, the blankets warm, and the pillows comfortable under her head. At some point during the day, she woke long enough to realize she felt kind of achy and in need of a shower. Careful not to soak the bandages on her side she wrapped the plastic skin cover they'd given her and then washed her hair, face, then her arms. While standing underneath the heated water, she stared at her skin and found it strange. It seemed paler than it should be. And were her forearms smaller than they had been previously? Even her fingers narrower?

  Was it weird to feel like an alien in her own body? At the same time she couldn't even define what her own body should feel like. What was more alien? Her body? Her life?

  The whole act of showering, then drying off afterward, exhausted her. Tika had brought her many piles of fresh clothing, some obviously new. Nina settled for a comfortable cotton-like top and a pair of drawstring trousers. Although the way they hung they couldn't actually be trousers. Then again, what did she know about trousers?

  It didn't matter her mind was already too tired to even contemplate clothing or fashion. Crawling into the bed she laid down on her side then called out, “Zed, has the crew returned yet?”

  “Only one, ma’am. The engineer is currently affecting repairs. Shall I contact him for you?”

  Now there was a voice she found soothing, it settled all the ragged, jagged nerves and soothed her ruffled feathers. “No thank you, Zed. I just wanted to know the status.”

  “Of course, ma'am. Do you require any other assistance?”

  Nina yawned. “No, I'm going to sleep now… Could you turn the lights down in here?”

  “Dim illumination to one-eighth percent.” The lights in the room lowered until it reminded her of the faint gold hazed grayness at dawn. It reminded her of her favorite time of day: twilight.

  Favorite time of day? She had a favorite time of day… But the thought proved elusive and sleep mired her before she could catch it.

  The next time she woke, Nina couldn't tell how many hours had passed much less whether they were even still on the planet or not. She was so groggy. Yet for the first time, she felt more alive than she had since meeting Tika on the planet. Her skin didn't itch. In her soul wasn't trying to crawl out of her brain. The world just seemed… Well maybe not the world, but her personal one.

  “Raise illumination 50%.”

  Soft light flooded the room. It reminded her of when the sun came up over a mountain the long shadow than sudden burst in light piercing the darkness. Of course there was a sun. No mountain. But in her mind, it worked.

  She contemplated rising from the bed and getting dressed. She wanted to stretch. Everything hurt. The stitches in her side itched like the blazes. She forced her hand to stay away from them. The more she gave into the urge, the longer it would take to heal. The last thing she wanted to do was be stuck aboard if they really wanted to get rid of her.

  She didn't think Tika would allow them to simply abandon her. The young girl was utterly loyal. How strange see so much hope, compounded by faith. Such openness seemed to fly in the face of everything Nina had ever experienced.

  Of course, it helped that Tika was young, beautiful, and obviously the apple of the captain's eye. She didn’t sense a romantic entanglement between them, though she would say the captain exhibited a palpable concern with regards to the girl. He wasn't playing at the emotion. Whatever Tika was to the captain, she was safe with him.

  Nina found herself safe after her confession. She hadn't believed it when the words began spilling out of her, but the need to tell them had swollen stronger and stronger within her until she understood morally it was the right thing to do. She didn't know morals or ethics. She barely remembered the names of colors and textures and tastes. What the hell had they done to her? And who the hell was she?

  She was just a giant question mark.

  A knock on the metal hatch dragged her from her internal monologue and she stared at the door. Had she made any noise? Or had Tika been coming by to check on her?

  “Yes?”

  “Nina, it's the captain.”

  With one simple sentence, the drowsy laziness of her waking evaporated. She stood somewhat too fast because her side pinched at the jerkiness of emotion, but she'd rather be on her feet if the captain was entering the room.

  Everyone should be on their feet to meet their fate.

  “Yes, Captain, do you need me?”

  “We have a visitor. One who has something to tell you. You can see them or not as you wish.” The last line surprised her. “My advice? Talk to him. He won’t be able to hurt you and Kestral and I will be there the whole time.”

  Apprehension sliced at her heart. So, whomever they brought on board to speak to her, they didn’t trust leaving alone with her. Who the hell would know she was here?

  Sudden terror clotted in her throat. “The Order found me.” It wasn't a question.

  “Nina.” The captain spoke in a steady, almost smooth drawl, and it sanded down some of the rough edges of her anxiety. “It's fine. Trust me.”

  Trust him. She trusted Tika, but she’d confessed to the captain. The captain hadn't kicked her off the ship the moment she told him about her ruse. He’d given her a safe harbor. Now he was asking her to trust him.

  Padding barefoot across the room, she reached the hatchway. “I do trust you.”

  The hatch lock gave, the door swung inward, and she braced it to stare at the captain. With his smooth dark hair, a hint of stubble, and his green eyes, he proved an arresting figure. There was a kind of gruffness to his manner however that she actually found disarming.

  “Am I dressed well enough for this meeting?” Was the first sentence that came to mind. She didn’t really know what was considered appropriate. She wasn’t really sure she cared. To be honest, she wanted to make a good impression for the captain's sake rather than her own.

  “You look fine to me,” the captain said with a quick glance at her. “Your color is better. How are you feeling?”

  His tone might have been terse, but his words carried a hint of concern. As did his gaze. “I actually feel better. I slept. A lot. I took a shower. Stitches are a little itchy. And I think I'm hungry.”

  With the light jerk of his head to the right the captain invited her to follow him. “Let's get you something to eat then, and something to drink. And I'll introduce you to Mr. Byron Wynn.” The last part he delivered while looking at her. She met his questioning gaze, and realized he was looking for some kind of reaction.

  The name meant nothing to her though. “You say he knows me?”

  “Somet
hing like that. Just remember, you're not alone. And he's not going to hurt you.”

  She almost hated to admit that last bit comforted her. Something about the captain made her feel safe. She didn't really know him and he really know her. He had zero reason to help her and even less reason to consider her a part of the crew, yet she believed him when he said she would be safe.

  Kestral stood just inside the hatchway of the kitchen services area. The tall swarthy-faced man with his two cool eyes and his dangerous demeanor worried her far more than the captain did. Kestral didn't seem predictable—he seemed like he contained violence hidden below the surface, waiting for one puncture to erupt.

  Yet when she first met him, his attention had been riveted on Tika. She watched him watch her and realized that that eagle-eyed gaze of his hadn't been filled with malice but a kind of warning for anyone else trying to approach her. He looked at Nina as though she intended to harm Tika, even though she was bleeding in her arms. To his credit, he'd seen through her: but she didn't trust him not to turn on her if he thought for instance she might mean harm to Tika.

  So what was he to the younger girl? She pushed the thought from her mind when she came face-to-face with a tall, blond, refined looking gentleman. Everything about him seemed contained, smooth, and almost too put together. If she'd seen him at the marketplace on EA-2187, she would never have dared to approach him. Even the air around him seemed reserved as though there especially for him. Halting a few feet away Nina folded her arms and tried not to shudder. She didn't know this man.

  But a part of her suddenly quaked with terror, and icy fingers of fear wrapped around her spine and began an insidious ascent. If that ice reached her heart she was dead.

  She backed away a step and ran directly into the captain. His warm hands braced her shoulders and held her steady. Then his low voice, which she thought was meant for her ears only, whispered, “You're safe.”

  As if to emphasize the feeling, the blond man took a step back as Kestral walked between her and the man. He then faced the man down until he retreated even farther. With Kestral between them, breaking their gazes Nina could breathe.

  “I don't know a Byron Wynn.” The sooner they got this over with the better as far she was concerned.

  “We've never been formally introduced.”

  That voice. Nina shuddered. Oh God, she knew that voice. If not for the captain's hands on her shoulders, she would've fled from the room immediately.

  “Let's get you fed, Nina,” the captain said, steering her gently toward the food preparation area. She’d only made into the kitchen once before, and she'd been too tired to do more than lean there against the counter as Tika made tea and prepared salad. All of which she piled in front of Nina, expecting her to eat and drink it all. Nina had done her best, but she was nowhere near that hungry or thirsty.

  The captain didn't ask her what she wanted, nor did he offer her a selection. Instead, he prepared some kind of thick, cold shake, then set a giant straw into the filled cup and sat it in front of her.

  “Drink it. It's chocolate.”

  Chocolate. All of the anxiety seemed to fall away as she leaned down and carefully sniffed at the straw. The sweet confectionery heaviness of the chocolate teased her senses. It smelled fantastic. She took a sample drink and had a mini orgasm in her mouth.

  Oh, I like chocolate.

  Every one of her senses agreed they love chocolate. Maybe she and chocolate had a long history. What a shame that she'd forgotten it. On the other hand, now she had a chance to fall in love with the dessert all over again.

  She took another sip. Then another. All three men watched but said nothing while she sat there, draining half the cup. Soon, some of the weakness laboring in her limbs faded to be replaced by a more settled feeling. Some of the shivering and quaking as she'd been fighting against since first waking aboard the ship also diminished. “This is really good, thank you, Captain”

  “You're welcome. It's a protein shake. You should probably drink a few more of those. That should help put some weight back on you and give you more energy. Also, they’ll help that injury heal.”

  Again with the gruff concern. The almost impatient do what I tell you and it will make it all better nature of his tone soothed her even further. “Yes.”

  She didn't mind following that order. In fact she wanted to follow that order. Especially if it meant more chocolate. Taking another drink, she let her gaze rove the room before returning to Mr. Byron Wynn. “I don’t know you. I know your voice.”

  “We met a few times,” he sounded relieved, if she was reading him right. That explained how she recognized him, at least partially. How odd. He seems so fine and refined. When could she have ever met him?

  They moved the conversation from the kitchen services area to the lounge. Nina didn't ask when the captain made the suggestion she simply followed him out. Kestral waited a beat before leading Byron after them as well. Once in the lounge, Nina took a seat and curled into the chair. She was suddenly exceptionally cold. She wasn't sure whether it was the company or her body temperature. Still, despite the chill, she refused to give up on the shake. It too was cold, but it tasted so good. Dragging her thoughts away from how she was feeling, Nina focused on Byron.

  “I don't remember you. I know your voice though.” She repeated what she said earlier in the kitchen. “Your voice scares me.”

  The man's expression tightened, a tick appearing in his jaw. “For that, you have my apologies. It was never my intention to frighten you.”

  “Get to the point.” The captain erupted, but his cool gaze wasn't on her so much as it was on Byron. “You asked me for a favor. You wanted to speak to her. Speak. Tell her what you did.”

  Her stomach clenched at the last statement, a cramp, which seemed to reject the food she’d just consumed. She swallowed, white-knuckling her grip on the cup in order to remain steady. She forced herself to breathe through her nose. She was going to throw up what she’d just drank. The whole time, she kept her gaze riveted on the man, trying to place him. Still his appearance remained elusive within her memory, if it ever existed there.

  “As I was telling the captain…” Byron began. He dropped into a seat opposite hers but still a few feet away. Kestral stood immediately behind him. Despite her worries where Kestral was concerned, it gave her a strange sort of comfort to know he was within arm’s reach of the man that she didn't know. The captain perched on the edge of a seat to her immediate right, his elbows set loosely on his knees. She knew he could move quickly, and she appreciated his place between her and Byron. She wasn't even sure how she’d earned, much less if she deserved, the two layers of protection.

  “I’m Byron Wynn. I develop and design software and microchips. I have degrees in sociology, microcomputers, micro science, psychology, and psychopathology.”

  “I'm happy for you,” Nina said uncertain of what the proper response should be to the listing of so many different fields that she had no idea what they were. Shaw actually chuckled her comment and, for a brief second, a smile appeared to soften Kestral's unreadable face.

  “Thank you, I only shared my resume with you because I believe it's important that you understand where I'm coming from.” Byron glanced to the captain for a moment then sighed. Facing her once more, he leaned forward and clasped his hands together. Though she wasn't certain, she thought his body language said nervous. How completely and utterly odd for him to be nervous about talking to her. Running a hand over her face, she tried to shake off the malaise so she could focus. Her mind wandered so often, it proved difficult to track all the subtext in the room.

  “I know you were held by the Order of the IV,” he told her. She tried to ignore the daggers of apprehension stabbing into her at the mention of the order. “I know this because until recently I was also with the order.”

  The sick feeling in her gut began to burn.

  “My reasons for joining the order are my own, I would like to say I did it because I thought t
hat they had all the best intentions. They embrace both science and philosophy. The two sides of human nature drew me to them. Also, I believed in my work, and I thought they did too.”

  “What is your work?” She didn’t really care about the rest, but she had to know.

  “As I was explaining to the captain, I believe that there is something fundamentally flawed in a segment of our population, whether they come from a wealthy background or not. It seems when people lose their inhibitions and believe they are entitled to whatever they want, whether they purchase or steal it, this fundamental flaw contributes to the destruction of human societies wherever those societies may be.”

  Despite the passionate conviction with which he spoke, Nina only grasped one in three of the words. “I'm sorry, can you dumb that down a little bit for me, please?”

  Cheeks reddening, Byron frowned and a flicker of impatience flared in his eyes.

  “Basically, what our wealthy visitor is trying to say is he thought he knew how he could fix human nature. You know, because after thousands of years of evolution, he thought he knew better.” The captain’s summation made it no less palatable, yet she understood that.

  Returning her gaze to Byron, she said, “So you are the reason I can't remember who I am?”

  One would have thought she'd slapped him, between the flush to his cheeks and the anger in his eyes. Neither competed with the shock rippling through his expression. His mouth tightened and his nostrils flared. Interesting how she could read so much of his body language, and even understand what it meant, though she was not entirely certain she could put it all in the correct context. She almost thought she was reading different parts of his face, and how he was breathing. Even the way he kept his hands together as though he forced himself to stay in the chair. How could she know all this?

  “Does this mean you know who I am?” A sudden hunger for the knowledge filled her. She didn't mind it being 9-A, or Nina as Tika dubbed her. That's all she'd known, but if she had another name, another place, a life… Didn't she have the right to know that, too?