“Exactly. I would do the same for any member of the crew.”
“I’m not in the crew.” She shifted, and he let her have another sip of water. “This isn’t going to leak out of my back or anything, right?”
He chuckled, the self-deprecating half-smile she’d come to recognize flitting across his lips. “Only if I was really bad at my job. I can offer you a painkiller, but we’ll have to be careful with them. There’s a—”
“Limited supply.” She nodded. The man had made an art out of stretching his supplies as long as possible.
“No, I’ve got plenty, but its suetrex, so, you know, super addictive.”
She shook her head. “I’m okay for now. If that changes...”
“Can I bring you something to eat? Are you hungry at all?” He looked like he couldn’t decide if he should stay or go, Maybe he just wanted the excuse to leave.
Recognizing that was enough to steel her nerves somewhat. “Please. Don’t hide from me.”
He looked at her, confusion twisting the normally smooth skin of his brow. “I’m not hiding. I told you everything. Prognosis is good, long term. Short term, you’re going to be uncomfortable.”
She glared up at the ceiling of her cabin. Maybe she could find the energy to choke him after all. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. You don’t have to hide behind your armor around me. Not if you don’t want to.”
He opened his mouth to say something and was cut off by a blue-gray blur jumping up onto the bed. She reached down to pet the new arrival and was greeted by a yowl of protest from the bed’s other occupant. She tried to pet them with both hands and got her fingers tangled up with his. He tensed at the touch, his intake of breath sharp, but he didn’t pull away, and she didn’t release him. Holding his hand shouldn’t have felt so rejuvenating. So relaxing and so supportive at the same time.
She waited, but Layth had gone silent. Whatever secret he had planned to say was lost again, and he’d shuttered his emotions. He wouldn’t meet her gaze, but she stared at him anyway, refusing to speak until he did. They could both be obstinate if the situation warranted, and this time it did.
Finally, he broke. “It’s not as easy as you make it sound.”
“What so hard about letting people in?”
“Because letting people in is the first step to caring about them. And caring about other people is just a road to disappointment. Everyone leaves, whether they want to or not.” He said the words to his lap, where she saw the third cat had curled up for a petting session without his sisters’ competition. The weight in his voice was enough to crush bones.
“Not everyone. The rest of the crew is still here.” She signaled, and he gave her another sip of water. “I’m still here.”
He set the cup down and looked at her. “I’ve put Barr and Tyler together more times than I can easily count. And even Zion and the captain a few times. And now you as well. Do you have any idea how difficult my job would be if I weren’t able to be dispassionate about it? If I had to look at a friend and say there was nothing I could do? Believe me, it’s better this way.”
“I think you’re lying to yourself. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be half as good at your job. All you’re doing is making yourself miserable in the guise of protecting yourself.” She squeezed his hand gently. “So instead you think that by not letting people close, they won’t miss you when you’re gone.”
He stayed quiet, but his thumb stroked the back of her hand absently.
She took a risk. “Just because your family let you walk away doesn’t mean they will.” She gestured at the crew beyond her small quarters. “If you spend your life refusing to put down roots for fear of losing people, then you’re not really living. You’re barely existing.”
He sighed. “I know what you’re saying makes sense, but—”
“But what?”
“But that doesn’t make it any easier. It’s not the sort of thing you just decide to do, and…” he snapped his fingers, “…suddenly your whole brain is rewired.”
She closed her eyes, trying to keep her frustration under control. It was exactly that easy. She’d done it. He could certainly do it. All it took was deciding you weren’t going to be afraid anymore.
“I should let you rest. You’re healing, and you get tired easily.” He placed a hand on her shoulder willingly and stood.
She squeezed his hand. “Stay? Even if you don’t care, I feel better knowing I have my own personal doctor watching over me.”
She heard the grin in his voice and the soft chuckle before he spoke. “Field medic, actually. Never completed medical school.”
She smiled. “See? Opening up already.”
10
Layth waited until Meja’s breathing slowed into the regular rhythms of sleep, then slipped out of her room. He had every intention to be back before she awoke, he just needed to stretch his legs first. And get some coffee now that Baker was on board to make sure the bio-fabricator was able to print out her special recipe.
Her words echoed as he walked, the memory simultaneously enlightening and enraging. That she’d seen through him with such relative ease stung, but also made him wonder—what if she was right about the rest of the crew? Yes, April would miss him, but they were reclusive and didn’t fit in any better than he did with the more gregarious people on the ship.
Baker was in the mess when he arrived. He’d been so busy with Meja that he hadn’t noticed they’d picked up the engineer from her visit to Hephaestus Prime. She was fiddling with the bio-fab unit, and he felt a brief stab of disappointment that he’d miss out on the coffee, but it did provide him with another opportunity. “Hey, Baker. How was your shore time?”
He winced. How did people talk to other people without sounding like broken record, repeating the same drivel over and over?
The engineer looked up, her flattop still crisp from a recent visit to the barber, and smiled. “Less interesting than yours, by all accounts. Are there really cats? April said there were cats.”
He chuckled. “Yes. There are actual cats. You should come by and see them, assuming you can get past Hicks. It’s like she’s discovered her favorite thing in the TriSystems. Which comes to a different point.” He swallowed, feeling that even asking the question meant he knew the answer already. “Can I trust you with a secret?”
Baker’s eyes glittered as she leaned in. “I mean, if it’s juicy enough, I could be tempted, but most of the time, yeah.”
“So, there’s a recipe in there for cat food, right?” He nodded at the bio-fab while tugging out his omni. “How hard would it be to add this to the recipe?”
She studied the schematic on his omni, her brow furrowed into a deep crease. “I’m not going to poison the cats.”
“It’s not a poison. It’s an additive.”
Her eyes narrowed. “To do what?”
“Denature a protein found in the cat’s saliva.” Baker still looked skeptical, so he took a deep breath. “I’ve got a low-grade allergy to cats. This should resolve the problem. And before you ask, yes, the lady in question knows we’re going to add it. I just don’t want the rest of the crew hearing about my allergies.”