Finn wasn’t in the living room either.
It was strange.
Tina went back into the main body of the ship and could hear the distinct sound of Rasa’s laughter, and also Finn’s voice. Then Rex gave a whoop.
What were they doing in the cargo hold? It was bitterly cold in there and they’d decided to avoid storing anything of importance there.
The cargo hold only contained the contra weights that functioned as counter-mass to stabilise any movements in the longer arm of the habitat. It also provided limited gravity, low enough to easily manoeuvre items around, but enough to keep them on the ground.
As Tina climbed out of the access hole that led into it, the pale light in the ceiling caught several glass-like objects that glittered as they flew through the air and then hit the metal deck, shattering into little pieces.
Rex called, “I win!”
Rasa laughed.
And then they fell silent, having noticed Tina.
“What’s going on?” Her breath steamed. The air was bitterly cold in this space, which they only used to store those supplies that they didn’t need in the near future.
Finn met her eyes. His cheeks were red from the cold. With his hands, he did up the fly of his pants.
Wait.
Tina looked from Finn to Rex.
When he still wore his old harness, Rex had been obsessed about being able to use the normal facilities, rather than wear a nappy, and he’d been especially obsessed with being able to piss standing up.
Then she looked at the glass-like fragments on the ground. Was that really what she thought it was? “I thought I was sharing this ship with adults and almost-adults. I can’t believe this.”
“We’ll clean everything up,” Finn said.
“You better.”
“It’s easy,” Rex said. “It’s so cold in here that the piss freezes before it hits the ground and you can just sweep it up.”
Tina snorted.
Finn said, “Come on, every boy needs to have taken part in a pissing contest at least once. It’s part of normal growing up.”
Tina had a memory of the sprawling primary school building in the small agricultural community at Tirkala where she had grown up. The complex had wide spacious classrooms with wide verandas. It also included a rickety shed made of prefab panels that were light grey, but turned dark when wet. The boys were always having “who can hit the highest” contests up the wall. One day, some bright spark even got the contestants to drink dye so that it was clear who produced which wet spot. However, he hadn’t figured that fluids take a while to go through the body, even of an eight-year-old boy, or realised that the dye wasn’t fit for human consumption, so the day ended with a couple of boys taken to hospital for participating in a pissing contest.
She’d been about to go on a rant about immaturity, but she took a deep breath instead. Everyone had been getting along very well. She was especially happy how Rex and Rasa worked together so well. And Finn was right: a pissing contest seemed to be an essential part of boyhood that Rex had never experienced.
“Just clean it up when you’re done.”
“You’re sure you don’t want to see the results of your expensive investment in my harness?” Rex said.
“If winning a pissing contest is the best you can do then I’m not sure it was such a good investment.”
“It’s a pissing contest I don’t have to do in a nappy anymore.”
Definitely worth the exorbitant price.
Tina was only half sarcastic about that.
Chapter Four
The Alethia executed the allocated jump perfectly. Upon checking the cabins after returning to normal space, Tina didn’t even find any dislodged items.
Over the following days, the Alethia came closer to Aurora Station. They would only be able to see the station once they came very close, but already, the amount of traffic in the area had increased.
A station this size was a major traffic hub, even when it was occupied by pirates. People had to travel, residents were not about to leave, and there weren’t enough ships in the sector to take everyone off the station anyway. So the station still needed to be supplied.
Traffic control was a major operation, and all still in the hands of the Aurora Station Authority, who, at least on the surface, appeared to know what they were doing, giving Tina details of the approach route and waiting times.
“At some point, they’re going to want the names of all on board,” Finn said. “I don’t want the station to know that I’m on board.”
“I’ll give them my false identity,” Tina said. She’d wanted to retire the ID, but it looked like Louise Metvier would have to do a couple more jobs.
Finn detached himself from his seat and floated over to where Tina sat. He took a small chip out of his pocket.
Tina frowned at him. “What’s that?”
“When they ask our names.”
Tina took the chip and put it in the reader. The identity card that came onto the screen had Finn’s face, but the name of the man was David Metz, shown to be a citizen of Olympus.
“Did your family give you this?”
He nodded. “My father has several. Even my mother has them.”
“Even? So mothers are worth less?”
“No, but she doesn’t travel much. When she does, she usually uses her false identity to keep from being followed everywhere.”
“It’s so tiresome being rich and famous.”
“They’re not famous and didn’t ask to be famous. There are lots of people with issues against our family or the company.”
“I thought you were no longer employed by the company. You told me that you didn’t like the way your family treated you, and wanted to go into the Force to prove yourself.”
“I worked for the company up until then.”
“If you use this identity, you think they won’t know?”
“They will. I have no choice. If I had a third identity, I would use it. I fear what these people at Aurora might do to me, and what they might use me
