“That’s hardly the point.”
“Then why? I can guarantee your captain isn’t shying away from the word.” The medical bay was on par with the rest of the ship—crowded and lived in rather than shiny and new. There was a small office off to one side, and an abundance of cabinetry, but most of the space was dedicated to the procedure table and bio-scanner in the center of the room. It was outdated—that was putting it kindly, really—but it was well maintained, save for the bio-tape being used to repair a tear in the table’s padded surface.
Layth stomped into his office and slumped into his chair. “The point isn’t important. We need to find that other cat.”
“Oh, is it a religious stricture? I bet that’s it. You were brought up in a religious household and now—”
“I said enough!” Layth snapped, then immediately retreated. “How are we going to find the cat?”
Meja filed the topic away for further discussion. For whatever reason, the doctor interested her. She got the impression that he didn’t make friends often, and despite his arrogance she wanted to be a person he might consider a friend.
His medical training would make caring for the kittens easier. That was the reason.
“The food worked well enough the last time. Who’s to say it won’t continue to lure him in?”
He shook his head. “There’s a lot of ventilation on this ship. Even more spaces when you add in the maintenance crawlspaces. She might not even be able to smell the food that’s out.”
“What about a trap?” She walked to a stack of boxes that were lashed to the floor next to a cabinet. “We could use a box, then just place the food inside. All we’d need is a one-way door. A hole she could come in but not back out again.”
He stood and walked up beside her, close enough she could feel the nervous energy coming off him like electrical pulses. “It could work actually. Sure, it might take a little while, but as long as we’re checking it every few hours. She’s bound to get hungry eventually, right? If you just made the door bigger than the hole, and put it inside the box, once it closed, she wouldn’t be able to get it open without thumbs.” He paused, a thin grin lighting up the lower half of his face. “They don’t have thumbs, do they?”
She tried to decide if he was teasing or being serious. In the end, she hoped for teasing—it would be a sign he was warming toward her. She gave him an exaggerated eye roll. “Despite the rumors, polydactyly is not a desired mutation in our cats. Besides, if we gave them thumbs, they’d take over the Three Systems in a week.”
He gave a quiet chuckle at that, his grin spreading in a lopsided fashion on his slender face. “Good point.”
“Now we just need a box to use.” Meja wandered back to the stack she’d identified earlier.
“Not those.” His voice was quiet but firm. “I’ve got some empties in my office.”
She gave one more look at the crates, trying to decide why it felt like he was working to distract her from whatever might be in them, then followed him into his office. Honestly, it was being generous with the word. The space was clearly meant to be a quarantine room, but the bed had been removed and a desk bolted to the floor against one wall. A monitor to interface with the doctor’s omnidevice was mounted above the desk, and a couple of empty boxes lay on the floor, unsecured. “Only one of those looks big enough to hold a cat.”
“Indeed.” He scooped it up and tossed it to her. “But we can use one of these other boxes to craft a door.”
She held the box under one arm and leaned down to pull her dagger out of a boot. As soon as she drew the long piece of sharpened polyfiber, the doctor blanched.
“How long have you been carrying that?”
She couldn’t resist giving him a knowing smile, but the concern on his face merited a response. “Relax, Doc. I grabbed it while I was in my room. After you scanned me. You didn’t miss anything.”
He only looked partially relieved. “What do you need a knife that size for?”
This time she couldn’t resist. “A girl can’t be too careful when she’s surrounded by… What was your phrase? Independent long-haul operators?”
His snort was somewhere between annoyance and amusement, but it didn’t keep him from smiling. “Okay, that’s fair. You’ll want to let the captain know you’re armed at the earliest opportunity.”
“Will she confiscate my blade?” It was the closest thing she had to a family possession; hardly an artifact of Old Earth, but it had been a gift from her grandmother who’d been an officer in Burbidge’s planetary military forces.
“Unlikely. But she also doesn’t like surprises. You’ve already snuck three cats aboard without telling her first. You don’t want to anger her more than is necessary.”
Meja recognized the advice as an olive branch between them and accepted it. “In that case, I’ve also got a tranq gun in my luggage. No darts, though.”
“It’s not much good without darts. Is it an Emerson?” He opened the cabinet to the right of his desk. An old Emerson model 3 dart pistol was strapped to the door, and a box of darts was on the shelf. Her expression must have indicated surprise because he grinned. “What? A boy can’t be too careful, either.”
“Sleeptronics.” She felt guilty for dropping the high-end name in a medical suite that looked like it was struggling to make ends meet. “Proprietary darts.”
He nodded. “If and when we get Baker back on board, you should see if she can whip something up. She’s got a knack for putting together surprising solutions.”
The overhead comms chose that moment to lurch to life with a crackle. The captain sounded frustrated. “Mr. Ali, Ms. Aquarone?”
He pressed a button on the wall to open the link. “Captain. We’re trying to get those cats locked down now.”
“Good.” The captain paused long enough to let the silence weigh down on Meja’s shoulders. “I’ve got a cargo that’s aging out as we sit idle in orbit, and I can’t jump to Accipiter until all those felines are accounted for. The last thing I want to do is accidentally smear a half-million credits across one of my bulkheads.”
Meja stepped closer to the panel. “We’ve got two already, sir. Ma’am.” She suddenly couldn’t remember if she’d heard which pronouns the captain preferred, so she ended with a nervous, “Captain.”
This time the silence felt like judgment. “Captain will be fine, Ms. Aquarone. And if you’ve come into possession of two of them then I need you both on the bridge. Immediately.”
They shared a glance, but Layth seemed as confused by the summons as she was. He shrugged, head tilted to one side. “Yes, Captain. On our way.”
“What do you think it’s about?” She followed as he moved from the office through the med bay.
He paused by the doors. “No clue, but look on the bright side.”
“What bright side?”
His grin made no attempt to be reassuring. “If she wanted to space us, all the airlocks are at the rear of the ship.”
5