“I remember,” Lana said. In fact, she remembered a surprising amount of yesterday's conversations with Ali and Aiden. Even the stuff she hadn't completely understood. Which was somewhat ironic, considering she couldn't remember anything else.
“Good, then I'll find you when I'm free. Enjoy exploring, either the ship or the databanks.”
There was a soft crackle from the intercom, and that was it. Lana stared at it for a few seconds, then tucked a lock of her reddish-blond hair behind her ear, noting it didn't seem to be as soft and shiny as Ali's, and opened her door, stepping uncertainly out into the corridor.
She followed the route the companion had described to the facilities, passing several doors and one modestly sized room that seemed to be a lounge, with soft chairs, a couch, and a table along one wall and the rest of the space taken up by two beds with instruments hanging over them.
Full immersion rigs, she recognized. She had no idea what that was, except something to do with virtual reality, which was apparently like one of the dreams she'd had last night except you could control it and it made more sense.
Lana rubbed at her forehead, staring at the devices. It was aggravating to know superficial details about things but not be able to remember anything about them.
She passed by the facilities, hunger and thirst currently her most persistent bodily needs, and continued on to the end of the corridor. It opened into a room about the size of the lounge, with a table large enough to seat eight people at one end and a small space with sinks and food preparation appliances and storage lockers at the other.
A man was currently sitting at the table, eating small, slimy round black things out of a can with a tiny spoon. From across the room, she caught the faint, fresh saltwater smell of the food, which reminded her of something that provoked a response but no corresponding memory.
In spite of that response, for once she didn't recognize something and had no idea what he was eating.
Before she could decide what to do about this unexpected meeting, the man caught sight of her and sprang to his feet. “Ah, our guest graces us with her presence!” he said brightly. He started forward, holding out his hand the way Aiden had. “My name is Barix Ishiv, of the genetically illustrious Ishivi. A pleasure to meet you, my dear.”
Barix was short, a few inches shorter than she herself was, which made him the shortest person she'd met so far; Captain Aiden would tower over him. He was also slight of build, probably weighed less than she did, and had neatly arranged, medium length light brown hair and gray eyes. She judged he was in his mid to late 20s, his features handsome to the point of being considered pretty. An amused smile danced on his thin lips that held a hint of arrogance, perhaps even disdain.
“Lana,” she replied. “Or at least, that's what we decided on for now. It's, um, a pleasure to meet you, too.” She wasn't sure yet if that was true, although it seemed like the nice thing to say. She took his hand and shook it the way the captain had shown her, then was slightly nonplussed when he didn't immediately let go, instead holding on as he looked up at her with a twinkle in his eye.
“Well, I can honestly say that's not something I usually hear from people.” The Ishivi ran his thumb lightly over the back of her hand, still smiling up at her. “I can also honestly say, Lana, that you are an exceptionally beautiful young woman. Not quite at the level of the Captain's sex robot, of course, but then who is? But still, just dazzling. Absolutely charming. Has anyone told you that, yet?”
She felt her cheeks flushing and finally reclaimed her hand, flustered. In fact, no one had told her that, and she hadn't had an opportunity to see her reflection yet. Was it true, or was he just saying that? If so, why?
Also, why was she getting the nagging sense that it might not actually be a pleasure to meet this man?
“And might I venture to add,” he continued in warm tones, “that the sleep-tousled look you have going on at the moment is absolutely delightful. Consider me enchanted to meet you.” She continued to stare at him, off-balance and unable to think of a response, as Barix went on blithely. “Now, if you'll pardon me for changing the subject, let me hazard a guess . . . even though it's been less than a day since you were brought out of stasis with no memories on a strange ship, our illustrious captain has already tried to sell you on his war.”
Lana did her best not to jump, thinking of Aiden's angry explanation of the Deeks, and how the Last Stand was at war with them. She didn't know if he'd tried to sell her on anything, but the slight man must've taken her expression as a yes, because he nodded in satisfaction.
“I guessed as much. Take his words with a grain of salt, my dear. We're one ship against the universe, with no allies or support. We're not fighting a war, we're just privateers.” The Ishivi paused. “Or at least, that's what he insists on calling us. Do you know what a privateer is?”
To her increasing lack of surprise, she did. “It's a privately owned vessel authorized to attack enemy vessels and steal their cargo.” When he acted surprised she knew, she quickly explained. “Ali said that even though I lost my memories, I'll still recognize things I knew from before, and understand words I knew.”
“I'm familiar with Blank Slates,” the slight man said dryly. “Privateer is just a little-used term, so I'm surprised you
