by Kate MacLeod
They were going home.
14
Scout spent most of the journey in the airlock. She wasn’t sure if Daisy had ever thought to ask how big of a ship Captain Jocquette Dieu-le-Veut flew, but the fact that she never flew with a crew or passengers besides a single dog might have been a clue that it would be close quarters.
At least the captain had given up her personal bunk space. Geeta and Seeta spent most of their time in there, sitting with their legs crossed across each other’s in a tangle that didn’t look remotely comfortable but didn’t seem to bother either of them in the least. Warrior had told Scout that the word games they were playing were specific cognitive exercises designed to aid in Seeta’s recovery.
Scout wondered if Seeta knew that. In the flight to get away from Galactic Central she hadn’t needed to talk enough for Scout to notice it, but by the second casual conversation aboard the ship, it became apparent that she was having trouble with word recall. But she showed no frustration; it was like she didn’t even notice it.
There was no way to pull Geeta aside to ask her without Seeta overhearing either.
Emilie was tucked up in a communications and navigation nook behind the cockpit. It wasn’t even comfortable for sitting in, but in free fall, the tightness of the space mattered less. She spent too much time searching the library records she had downloaded to her node before they entered warp space. But what catnaps she took and what food Geeta gave her to eat must have been more than she had been getting back at Galactic Central, because her appearance started to improve. She looked less like her body was consuming itself to fuel the frantic racings of her mind.
Daisy split her time between the cockpit with Jocquette and the airlock with Scout and the dogs. Scout could see how jumpy she was, and it wasn’t hard to guess why. Daisy was an obsessive planner, but there was nothing for her to plan now. When they reached Amatheon, they would be following Sparrow’s plan, and whatever modifications Tom Tom had cooked up on his own. They didn’t have any intel to base their own planning on.
At least Scout was feeling mostly okay. She could close her eyes, and the feeling of tumbling forward would be there, but like a ghost of its former self. It was easy to ignore. Jocquette’s ship wasn’t as fast as even the tribunal enforcer ship had been.
Scout hoped this meant she wouldn’t be sick later after they left hyperspace. That would be very inconvenient. No one was going to pause their warmongering until she felt better. If it did come up, she’d have to soldier through.
But in the meantime, there was nothing to do but wait, which was worse here than it had been at Galactic Central given the tighter quarters and the lack of anything productive to do.
At least Daisy’s wounds were healing. The gash in her head was a jagged scar now, but already fading to silvery faintness. The deep wound in her thigh, the one she hadn’t shown Scout until they were in warp space, was only a faint half-moon barely discernible to the rest of her flesh.
It made Scout wonder how many other wounds she had healed from in the past that had disappeared without a trace. And she remembered what Shi Jian said, about how their super senses made the pain more acute for them than for normal people.
The dogs had grown too used to being shuffled about to new locations to make much of a fuss about being back in free fall again. They remembered all the games Scout had invented to pass the time when she had been stuck waiting in microgravity on Amatheon’s moon.
Their favorite was one Scout called Juggle the Dogs, which involved pushing first one and then the other towards a wall. They had learned to change their position and push off the walls to come sailing back to her, and she kept it up as long as she could until the timing fell apart and both dogs collided with her at once. Then it was all laughing, licking, and hugs.
She was playing that game with the dogs when she heard the sound of raised voices from the front of the ship. That was distinctly odd. Even trapped in close quarters with everyone tense and anxious about what they would face when they reached their destination, no one had so much as snapped at each other so far. Now, on the last day of the journey, who was melting down?
Scout caught the dogs and tucked them into their crate, where Emilie had rigged up a water bottle that released droplets when they licked it but didn’t leak in the microgravity.
Then she pulled herself out of the airlock, past the latrine behind its accordion door and the even tinier kitchenette to the space between the communications nook and the captain’s bunk.
“What’s going on?” Scout asked.
Daisy poked her head out of the cockpit. “I was wondering that myself.”
“Look at her,” Geeta said from where she was floating, arms and legs crossed in stern disapproval. Scout looked past Geeta to Seeta, but she just gave a sad shake of her head and pointed behind Scout.
Scout pivoted to see Emilie behind her. It took a long moment to realize what Geeta must have gotten upset about.
“Your hair’s red again,” Scout said. When they had met, Emilie’s hair had been a candy-colored shade of red. It had faded while she had been with the Months. “Well, it’s different, but nice,” Scout said diplomatically.
It was the exact same shade of flame red as Captain Jocquette’s.
“I like it,” Emilie said as if that ended the matter.
“What’s the objection?” Daisy asked.
“What if we have to go incognito?” Geeta asked. “She’s a walking target.”
“I can wear a hat,” Emilie said.
“This wasn’t a problem before,” Scout said. “You and Seeta had color in your hair as well.”
“It faded out,” Geeta said.
“And we colored it specifically so we could hide it when we had to,” Seeta said, touching the nape of her neck where her purple streak had once been.
“I can hide it with a hat,” Emilie said stubbornly. “Besides, when your color faded, you were left with rich locks of inky black hair. I just had . . . what I had. Ick. It’s not me.”
“Well, technically—” Geeta started to say, but Daisy cut her off.
“Definitely this is you,” she said. “I just met you, and I can see how this is you. Your whole demeanor is different.”
The others all studied Emilie closely, trying to notice what Daisy was talking about. Scout thought she could see it too, but Emilie was clearly getting self-conscious with everyone staring at her.
Then there was a jolt, and Daisy looked back over her shoulder.
“We’re back in normal space,” she announced, then ducked away to slide into the copilot’s seat. Scout moved forward to the cockpit doorway to see out the windows.
She had expected a view of Amatheon filling the screen, or perhaps of Amatheon Orbiter 1. But she appeared to be looking out at nothing at all.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Outside the barricade,” the captain said. “You have permission to pass or what?”
“The barricade is still up?” Scout said. “The court case—”
“Technically hasn’t wrapped up yet,” Emilie finished for her.
“So how do we get across it?” Scout asked.
There was a long silence. Then the captain looked up at her.
“You’re asking me? This was your gig. I’m just the pilot,” she said.
Scout bit back a sharp reply. She was, after all, technically right.
“Can we get a message out to Sparrow’s friend? Tom Tom?” Daisy asked.
“Not with my equipment,” the captain said. “From what I’m reading, the planet, moon, and all orbiting satellites are on complete lockdown.”
“Can you send a message to the tribunal enforcers?” Geeta asked Scout.
“I don’t know,” Scout said. “There was one among them who was an ally, but did they come back here after taking me to Schneeheim? Did that fulfill their obligation, which was really to the Torreses and not to me? I’m not even sure how to send a message to a specific enforcer. And I’m not
sure if they’re all our friends.”
“Do we have anything else to try?” Daisy asked.
They all floated in silence until Geeta fixed her eyes on Scout.
“I guess not,” Scout conceded.
“Dictate your message,” Emilie told her, hands flying over the controls on the communications board. “I’ll find a way to get it where it needs to go.”
Suddenly the board behind her, the one for navigation, started flashing and beeping loudly.
“What is it?” Scout asked as Emilie spun around.
“There’s a ship coming out of warp right on top of us,” she said.
“How is that possible?” Geeta asked. “The odds against it are astronomical.”
“Unless,” Daisy said with a hard edge to her voice, “it’s not a coincidence at all.”
There was another long silence, broken by Captain Jocquette’s slightly self-conscious chuckle.
“You got me,” she said, raising her hands as if admitting to cheating at cards.
“We got you doing what?” Daisy demanded.
“It’s the Months’ ship,” Emilie said. “Nothing else I’ve ever seen has been so brutally boxy.”
“The Months,” Scout said. “You sold us out to the Months.”
“I paid you to be discreet,” Daisy said.
“But they paid me more,” she said with a shrug.
“Do you even know what they’re going to do to us?” Daisy demanded.
“Not my business,” the captain said, but then added, “if you’re worried about it, I’d be happy to watch the dogs for you. Free of charge.”
“I’m not leaving my dogs with you,” Scout said from between gritted teeth.
“Suit yourself,” the captain said with a shrug. “Although I just might ask the Months about it. Don’t know why they would say no, and I did such a good job of getting you all here where they wanted you.”
Daisy was seething, hands in fists, but Scout rested a hand on her shoulder and gave a little shake of her head. Nothing they could do to the captain was going to make anything any better.
“We’re being towed aboard now,” the captain told them, lifting her hands away from the controls as if to emphasize the point. “You might as well line up in the airlock and let them cuff you. No sense in risking injury fighting the inevitable.”
“No sense in not doing it either,” Daisy hissed, but she let Scout draw her away.
“We need to hold on to the dogs,” Scout said to her. “I can’t lose them. I just can’t.”
“I know,” Daisy said. “I’ll take Gert. They’ll have to break both my arms if they want to take her away from me.”
“Thank you,” Scout said, pulling Shadow’s warm body close to her chest. He squirmed at first, but sensed her unease and relaxed against her, reaching up to lick at her chin as if he thought she found that calming.
Geeta and Seeta were holding hands, heads close together as they felt the ship lift up into the belly of the Months’ massive vessel. They had made this journey once before.
Emilie walked past them, pausing a moment to touch Shadow’s head, then Gert’s. The moment they felt the pull of artificial gravity, she planted herself in front of the doors and gave her hair a fierce tousle.
There was a soft clang as the ship settled onto the deck, then the airlock hissed open, and the ramp extended out to the very feet of the crew waiting for them.
“Come down one at a time,” the head of the crew said, waving her hand as if they were already taking too much of her time.
Seeta went down first, ignoring the youths on either side of her making threatening jabs at her with shock sticks. Geeta came down after, deliberately making eye contact with each guard aiming a gun at her from a perimeter they had formed around the bottom of the ramp.
Emilie waved for Daisy to pass her and, holding Gert tight, she did. She stopped at the bottom of the ramp and glared at the chief of the crew.
“Hands out so we can cuff you,” the woman said, although there was a small gulping sound before she spoke. Daisy’s fierce gaze had that effect on people.
“I keep the dog,” Daisy said, hugging Gert tighter.
“We have quarters for the dogs,” the chief said.
“I don’t believe you,” Daisy said.
“Captain Jocquette does not get the dogs,” Scout said.
The chief’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “I didn’t even know that was on the table.”
“It’s not on the table,” Scout said. “Not if you want us to go quietly.”
“If you want to fight about it, we’re up for it,” the chief said. “But it’s not necessary. I don’t know what story the captain has heard, but what I know is that Jun Tajaki is taking the dogs into her personal custody.”
“Prove it,” Scout said.
“I’m not inclined to. Believe me or don’t.”
And faster than an eyeblink she whipped an arm out. It curved like a snake striking, hitting Daisy on the side of the neck before even she could react.
It must have been some sort of paralytic. Daisy’s knees buckled, and she dropped Gert. She gasped for breath, face red with exertion, but just managed to arch her body around so that when she finally fell to the ground, she didn’t land on Gert.
Then she lay so still Scout couldn’t even see her breathing.
Scout clutched Shadow tighter, taking a step back, but came up flush against the front of Jocquette Dieu-le-Veut. The captain put both her hands on Scout’s arms and squeezed. Even the flesh hand had a grip like a vise, and Emilie rushed to catch Shadow before she dropped him. The guards with shock sticks were on top of her before she could spin back around and one jabbed her until she screamed, the other snatching Shadow from her arms. His whine of protest was drowned out by Emilie’s screams for all ears but Scout’s.
The captain hadn’t released her and was squeezing ever harder until Scout cried out herself. When the guard with the shock stick slapped the cuffs around her wrists, it was nearly a relief.
By the time they led her down the ramp, both of her dogs were gone, whisked away to some unknown part of a ship she had never seen more than a fraction of.
Lost. They were lost.
And when she was finally thrust into a tiny cell and locked in, she was alone in a dark so absolute even her glasses had nothing to show her.
As frightened and hurt as she was, the strongest feeling crushing her heart was knowing that her dogs were even more frightened. And they needed her.
And there was no way for her to get to them.
15
Scout barely had time to look around and make out the features of the room: a platform the size of a bunk, but with no bedding; an opening in the floor in the corner that was covered with a grate she was really afraid was meant to function as a toilet; and absolutely nothing else. No air vent, no heating duct.
No way to escape.
She was just squatting over the hole in the floor and debating if there was any point in trying to pry it open given that it was too small to be a way out, and that from the very pungent odor it was definitely a toilet, when the door opened behind her and two guards came into the room.
They grabbed her by the arms and jerked her to her feet, then held her there as a third guard took the belt from her hips, the glasses from her eyes, and even her jacket, pants and boots. The jacket they cut off of her rather than remove her cuffs.
Then they left as suddenly as they had appeared.
After that, Scout lost all sense of time. Her eyes couldn’t adjust to the dark; there wasn’t even the faintest source of light. Not a sound from the outside world penetrated her cell.
At a time far past the point when her stomach had given up on growling and settled into a tight, angry knot, she heard a click. But the door didn’t open.
She slipped off the platform and felt around the walls until she found a drawer standing open. It was at waist height, and she was pretty sure it was in the center of the door.
> She reached her hand inside the drawer and felt a tube. Running her fingers all over it didn’t tell her any more. She twisted the cap off and tried to smell the contents. She thought she smelled something beany, but mostly she smelled the soft metal the tube was made from.
She squeezed a little onto the tip of her finger and tasted it. It was absolutely revolting and clung to her tongue with a fearsome tenacity. It also seemed to suck all the moisture out of her mouth, making her aware of just how thirsty she was.
But there was nothing else in the drawer and no source of water in the room.
What felt like hours later, she got hungry enough to eat the contents of the tube.
She was idly trying to work out a way to drink her own urine, given that she had no vessel to put to the purpose besides the drawer, when she heard the soft click of the drawer closing.
Coincidence, or could they read her thoughts?
She used the hole in the floor with a faint hope that if they were watching her, they’d reward her with water, but the drawer remained closed.
Her stomach rumbled, not liking the contents of the tube.
She drifted in and out of sleep, until she was jolted rudely awake by the loud clang of the door and the sudden piercing brightness of the light beyond.
“Get up,” the chief of the guards said to her, yanking her to her feet and thrusting a pair of soft pants at her. “Put these on.”
“Am I going somewhere?” Scout asked, but the woman didn’t answer.
“Are my dogs okay?” The woman ignored that too, just grabbed Scout by the shoulder and steered her out of the cell.
Scout blinked repeatedly, her eyes slow to adjust to the bright light reflecting off of the metallic walls. She didn’t think it was just from her time in the cell. She couldn’t remember the last time she had taken her glasses off. At some point, while in Galactic Central, she had fallen into the habit of sleeping with them on. She had gotten used to the way they adjusted to everything for her.
The chief brought her to a very familiar pair of double doors and pushed her inside the audience chamber. Scout stumbled but didn’t fall. This seemed to amuse the crowds gathered on both sides of the long central carpet, but she ignored their laughs and jeers.
