He understood the individual words, but together they made little sense. Why would an athlete on a weekday morning imply she required a time machine? Terrans were odd.
A smudge of his blood marred her cheek, and his blood stained the right sleeve of the tunic. Where it fell on her frame gave the appearance of a scarlet armband. His chest swelled with unreasonable pleasure at seeing Thalia adorned with his blood. An injury sustained in combat would have been better, but he appreciated the way she did not hesitate before springing into action to mend him. His words had purposely been harsh, and she rightfully should have let him deal with his injury on his own, but Thalia had a compassionate heart.
She continued to speak, unaware of the effect she had on him. “So, Nicky took me and some other kids like me in.”
“He sounds charitable.”
She snorted. “He fed us and gave us a roof over our heads. All we had to do was a little burglary. Skinny kids are good for that.”
“That is criminal. Did no one report this Nicky to the authorities?”
Another snort. “I know you aliens are all moral and upright, but no. No one cared, unless we got sloppy and got caught. Then the system wasn’t very interested in, I don’t know, street urchins. Waifs. Anyway, that lasted until I reached the inevitable destination of a kid getting three meals a day and puberty. I know I ain’t,” she waved a hand at her chest, “but it made enough of a difference that I couldn’t climb through windows anymore.”
“Are you referring to your breasts? They seem adequate.”
She blushed a pleasing pink and rolled her eyes. “Adequate. What every girl dreams of hearing.”
“They are small, but they have their appeal.” He nodded, satisfied at his statement.
“Can we not talk about my boobs right now, unless we get to talk about your tail?”
“No,” he said curtly. “No discussing any body parts or attractive features.”
“You were married?”
“Yes.”
“Someone, a human woman, actually married you?”
“Yes.” He did not understand her line of questioning.
“And you talked to her like this? Was she adequately attractive?”
He wanted to explain that Vanessa’s appearance had been strange, yet he found her Terran differences to be attractive. Instead, he said, “What happened next in your tale of woe?”
“Oh. I started working with Doc. He needed someone young to run around for him. I learned a lot watching him and eventually I did basic first aid-type stuff.” She raised her shoulders in a Terran gesture he recognized as indifferent. “No big deal.”
Static proceeded Ren’s warning that gravity would commence in thirty seconds. He advised them to move to a safety harness or hold on. The computer began a countdown.
Thalia grabbed the medical kit and made her way to a fold-out emergency seat. She tugged at the safety harness but floated above the chair and could not position herself. Havik pressed down on her thighs, moving her down and allowing the safety harness to click into place.
“What about you? You’re gonna hit the floor.”
Havik opened his mouth to respond that he would be fine when the computer countdown reached ten.
His chest slammed into the floor, knocking the air out of him. “That was not thirty seconds!”
Chapter 10
Thalia
Turns out, Thalia wasn’t the type to hide away in her cabin, which surprised her. She always hid in her room as much as possible from Nicky and his goons, easily able to entertain herself with reading or watching shows.
Everything was different here. Maybe it was the lingering fog in her head—getting clearer every day—or just the strangeness of the situation. She had lost three years, was on a spaceship, surrounded by alien strangers, and she just wanted a bit of human contact, so to speak.
The common room served multiple purposes with a small kitchen, dining with a farmhouse-style table, and entertainment with a semicircular built-in couch with deep cushions. At first, Thalia thought the round wooden table in front of the couch was a coffee table, but it was a holographic console.
With the lights down low, the projected images flickered in the light like ghosts. She could get better sound and picture quality watching on a handheld tablet but curling up on the massive couch with a snuggly blanket and Havik’s pet monster was better than being alone in her cabin.
Havik, for some reason, lingered in the common room. From the other side of the room, he watched her every move, like he expected her to steal the nuts and bolts of the ship.
Obstinately, she wanted to, just to show him she could.
Sitting on the couch with her legs crossed, she munched on a bowl of noodles. It had a savory peanut-like sauce, rehydrated bits of vegetables, and a ton of salt, no doubt. The guys didn’t seem to be much in the way of cooks and packed the kitchen with three different flavors of the same instant noodle bowls. They did have a cabinet full of—hand to God—tomato juice. Fine, not tomato juice, but close enough that the hungover would reach for a glass the morning after. It was spicy, a bit sweet, and surprisingly nice when cold. Thalia liked the not-tomato juice.
She dangled a noodle over the edge, and the pet scorpion reared back on two legs and grabbed it. His mandibles crammed the noodle in while his front paws twitched and flexed. It was cute as fuck, to be honest.
“Do not feed the kumakre from the table,” Havik said.
“I’m not at the table.” Score one point to Thalia on a technicality.
“It is a wild creature and must learn to hunt, not beg for scraps.”
“Fair enough.” She deducted her point. “How big do kamu-whatsits get?”
Havik ran a hand down his braid and tossed it over a shoulder, a move she now recognized as his thinking gesture. “Theoretically, there is no limit outside of available space, food, and water, but most grow to be this high.” He stood up and stretched his hand over his head.
Massive.
Thalia looked
