'I got caught by a Mane,' she said. 'Didn't turn me all the way, but it turned me enough. I'm part Mane, but I'm still human. I think like I used to, and I feel like I used to. And I might add that my being a Mane accounts for my frankly phenomenal navigational skills, without which you'd be long dead and your precious craft would be a heap of slag.' She threw her hood back and glared up at him furiously. 'Do you get it, Cap'n? I'm part Mane. You deal with that or you kick me off, but I'm not living like this any more.'
Her words rang out into silence, swallowed by the cold wind that blew through the town. Frey's face was stony and grim.
'What happened on the All Our Yesterdays?' he asked.
'I don't know.'
'What if it happens again?'
'I don't know. I can't promise I won't.'
'I have a crew to think about,' he said.
'Yes!' she cried. 'And I'm part of it!' She paced away from him, smoothed her hair back, reded her ponytail. Something she did when she was anxious or upset. 'I'm in trouble, Cap'n,' she said. 'I'm turning. Into what, I don't know. How long it'll take, I don't know. Maybe I'll beat it. Maybe it's unstoppable. But I'm scared. I'm scared I'll lose my mind. And the only person who might have explained any of it to me was Crake, and now he's gone! Because of another damn secret that he couldn't share.'
'I don't think you'll lose your mind,' said Frey.
Her tone made it clear what she thought of his knowledge on the subject. 'You don't? Why not?'
'Because this professor guy told me so. He said the daemon was more like . . . like a sin-boat.'
'Symbiote,' she corrected automatically.
'Yeah, that. And it doesn't take you over or control you or anything. It just . . . well . . . kind of helps you out, I suppose. That and it makes you look like shit.'
She stared at him, aghast. 'You spoke to that professor a month ago!'
Frey looked like he wished he hadn't opened his mouth.
'And you didn't tell me?' she yelled.
'Things were . . . weird between us,' he mumbled. 'Wasn't sure how to.'
'The way you just did would have been fine!' She slapped the landing strut in frustration. 'Spit and pus, Cap'n! You know what it would have meant to me? To know that?'
'Sorry,' Frey said sheepishly.
She put her face in her hands. Her shoulders heaved with each breath.
'Are you crying?' Frey asked.
'I'm trying to calm down so I don't kill you,' she replied through her fingers.
'Oh.'
She took her hands away, shook her head, blew out a breath. Under control, Jez. Keep it under control.
She put her hand on her hip and poked Frey in the chest with a finger. 'I'll tell you what,' she said. 'I'll give you a choice. I quit the Ketty Jay. Right here and now.'
Frey looked stricken. 'Wait, you're quitting?'
'Ah! Ah!' she said. 'I'm not done. It seems you have a vacancy for a navigator now. So I offer my services. I'm a navigator. You won't find any better. But I'm also part Mane, with all the things that entails.' She folded her arms and stared at him defiantly. 'Now I've told you, upfront. Either hire me, and we start again from scratch, or don't, and I'll leave right now. But no more of this pussyfoot bullshit.'
Frey stood there in the slowly freezing slush and regarded her thoughtfully. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Nothing showed on his face, as if this was a game of Rake and he was considering his hand.
All or nothing. What's it to be?
Then he tutted, and looked up at the sky. 'Who am I kidding? We wouldn't last two days without you. You're the best damn navvie I've ever seen.'
'Because I'm part Mane,' she said. 'Because I can read the wind, and see in the dark. Because I just know where things are sometimes. Because I'm part Mane. Say it.'
Frey nodded. 'Okay. Because you're part Mane. And whatever goes along with that. I get it.'
'So,' she said. 'Am I hired?'
Frey grinned. 'You're hired.'
'I want a bigger cut of the profits.'
'What?' Frey was appalled. Jez just stared at him, arms folded, until he threw up his hands.
'Fine! When there's profits to give you, you'll get your cut,' he said. 'If we ever make any.'
Jez felt a grin spreading across her own face. She felt lighter than air. There was a huge sense of release. This whole thing had been building up and building up. Just talking about it made it better. Ironic, really, that it had taken the most silent member of the crew to teach her that.
She held out her hand. 'Thank you, Cap'n. And sorry for keeping it from you. Me being a Mane and all. I won't let you down again.'
He clasped her hand and then, to her surprise, he pulled her into a rough hug. 'Likewise,' he said.
The Happy Amputee was Raggen Crag's classiest bar, which wasn't saying much. It was a grubby, dingy room, lit by blackened bulbs, with tarnished metal fixtures and brass countertops. A broken-down band played on the stage. The locals drank hard liquor and talked in low voices.
Pinn sat at a table in a comer, sweeping a bleary and baleful glare across the room. He was drunk. Mean, stinking drunk. In one meaty hand was the ferrotype of his sweetheart that usually hung from the dash of his Skylance. Malvery sat next to him. hovering on the edge of coma, his eyelids drooping. His round, green glasses sat askew on his nose. Every so often, his head would dip towards the table, and then he'd startle awake briefly before sliding into unconsciousness once again. Several bottles of grog were clustered on the table in front of them.
'Look at 'em,' Pinn snarled.
'Mmf?' Malvery inquired.
'Them!' he said, motioning with his chin. 'The Cap'n and his whore.'
Malvery blinked and tried to focus. Near the bar, Frey and Trinica were deep in conversation with two local men. Tough-looking, ugly sorts.
'Leave 'em alone.' Malvery mumbled. 'Cap'n knows what he's doin'.'
Pinn scowled and took another swig of grog. The Cap'n definitely didn't know what he was doing. Palling around with that slut. Oh, she might have cleaned off that ghoul mask that she wore, but Pinn wasn't fooled. She was still a woman. Treacherous as quicksand. Not that Pinn had ever been near quicksand, but he'd definitely heard it was treacherous.
Bewitched, that was what the Cap'n was. What else could it be? What else could explain it? This past month, you hardly ever saw them apart. The Cap'n was all spry as a lark while everyone else sloped around feeling rotten. What was it between them, anyway? Pinn had thought the Cap'n hated her. Pinn had thought they were enemies. Why ask her along?
All Pinn knew was that Trinica had robbed them blind. Twice! Having that bitch on board was rubbing it in everyone's faces. He'd have been rich if not for her. Maybe then he'd have gone back to Lisinda. Maybe then she wouldn't have sent him a letter telling him she was marrying some other man.
He stared at the ferrotype in his hand. Those eyes, that had once gazed at him so adoringly. Even now, they might be gazing that way at someone else. He ground his back teeth together at the thought.
Every day since he'd received that letter had been a torment of indecision. Should he go back to her, to try and pry her from his rival? Or was that exactly what his rival wanted? He needed to do something to prevent the marriage, but he couldn't return yet, poorer than when he'd left. And what if he was already too late? A cold and manly indifference was surely better than coming home to see the gleam of triumph in his rival's eyes.
For a month now, he'd been paralysed. But with each day that passed, matters became a little more urgent. He had to do something. He just didn't know what.
Malvery turned his head with a slow movement, as if he was underwater. He saw Pinn staring at the ferrotype, and snorted.
'Forget her, mate,' he slurred. 'She ain't worth it.'
'Shut your face, Doc. You don't know her.'
