Some of her words don’t translate. I don’t know why we’re talking about underwear. Probably an idiom, which the implants sometimes understand and often don’t. “You fell apart when the klaxons sounded. I was worried about you.”
“You were worried,” she says mockingly. “Gee, I’m so sorry I inconvenienced you. Do you know how the scientists woke Cassie and me up? With sirens, just like the ones today. Then they’d torture me. So what if I fell apart today? It doesn't mean I'm going to fall apart all the time, and it certainly doesn't mean I'm a liability.” Her hands are clenched into fists. “Are there going to be sirens waking us up every day on Noturn?”
“Naomi, I just think—”
“Answer my question.” There is not an ounce of give in her expression.
“No.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Well then, I doubt we’re going to see a repeat of today’s incident.”
I open my mouth to try and explain, and then shut it. Naomi is right—I am undermining her. She’s been tortured almost to the point of death. She’s in a strange universe. She can’t go back to her home world. She’s surrounded by people that don’t speak her language. She’s trying to make the best of a terrible situation, and she’s trying to move forward. For Naomi, going to Noturn is an important first step.
And I called her a liability.
I am such an asshole. What does it matter that she’s safe, if I’ve made her feel like shit? “Naomi, I’m sorry.”
She stares at me for a long moment. “When do we arrive at the Wekat Exchange?”
I look at my tablet. I must have been asleep for longer than I thought, because we’re closer to the exchange than I expected. “We’ll jump out of the wormhole in an hour, and we’ll land an hour after that.”
“Good. Dariux sent me instructions. When we land, I need to go to a boutique.”
“What?”
“A clothing store,” she repeats. “Where I’m going to buy a crapload of expensive dresses.” She gives me an evil smile. “See, I’m on my honeymoon, and grey jumpsuits aren’t going to cut it. You can follow me around and carry my parcels. We are going to pretend to be head over heels in love with each other, because unlike you, I’m going to set my feelings aside, put on my big girl panties, and do whatever it takes to make this mission a success.”
She’s still furious. I can’t say I don’t deserve it. “Expensive dresses in the Wekat Exchange. Got it.”
She stalks out of the room, teacup in hand, slamming the door shut behind her. I stare at it, my emotions mixed.
It bothers me that I’ve hurt Naomi’s feelings.
But the fury she’d shown? That’s the most emotion Naomi’s displayed since I’ve met her.
I know trauma, intimately and well. Rage is a whole lot better than numb indifference.
She’s getting better.
8
Naomi
I stalk out of the galley and head back to the bedroom, Danek’s words echoing in my ears. She’s fragile. She’ll get in the way. She is a liability.
You know he’s not wrong.
Last night is a blur. I remember bantering with Danek at the park. He’d plucked a drone out of midair, his reflexes cat-quick, and he’d offered me a sugary fried treat. It had been delicious. Then the klaxons had started to blare.
After that, it all goes blank.
My tablet is inside my duffel bag. I have no memory of packing it. I pull it out and access the cameras in my room. The cameras had been a compromise between the healers and me. After a month of living in the hospital, I was ready to discharge myself and go back home. Not that I had a home, of course; I am a very long way from Earth. But I was ready to leave the ward, leave the medicinal, antiseptic smells of the place behind, swap out the hospital bed and the wall of monitors for a comfortable couch, and start anew.
They gave me another psych eval. I failed it. The healers hadn’t wanted to discharge me. I think they thought I would harm myself. Not consciously, and not deliberately, but when I panicked, I lost track. I disassociated. They didn’t want to be responsible if something happened to me.
Alice helped me negotiate a solution. I would have cameras installed in my apartment. If I went for two months without incident, they would be removed.
For the first time ever, I turn on my tablet. Mala—the healer responsible for my care—had told me that I could access the camera feed through the device. I fiddle around until I find last night’s recording. Then I start to watch.
I’m packing my stuff. There’s a knock on the door, and then it slides open. I whirl around. It’s Taman, the friendliest of the scientists, the one who apologized to Cassie and me for what they did to us. Taman looks stressed, probably because of the imminent attack, but he gives me a friendly smile. “Hello Naomi,” he says. “I'm the evacuation coordinator for this block. I’m doing the rounds, making sure everyone is evacuating, and knows where they need to go. Your berth is on the Vestra.”
Last night, I’d heard none of that. I hadn’t heard his explanation. I hadn’t seen his smile. I’d just panicked.
I watch myself on
