“It’s what some people call the Stavengers,” Pendt said. She picked at the serviette in front of her. It was, rather pointlessly, folded in the shape of a flower. She loved it. “Because it feels like less of an empire that way.”
“We can argue about that later.” Ned waved off her comment. “Anyway, since my father is gone, I am the Brannick, the only one on the station with the right genes to keep the station alive.”
Usually at this juncture in the conversation there were awkward and ignorant questions about Fisher, but Pendt didn’t so much as blink.
“I have to stay,” Ned continued, “but I would very much prefer to go and fight in the rebellion.”
“The rebellion?” Pendt said. “I’m sorry, we don’t get a lot of current events on the Harland. I thought all that was more or less . . . finished.”
“Not entirely,” Fisher said quietly. “You’re right about the empire not really having died, and neither did the rebellion against it. It’s just more complicated now.”
“And you want my help?” Pendt said. She pressed a hand to her chest. “I just found out there was a rebellion, I don’t know anything about fighting in it.”
“That’s not what we want,” Ned said.
“I saw you change your appearance,” Fisher said. “It’s not just a disguise; it’s a full change. There hasn’t been a gene-mage on Brannick Station with that kind of power for generations, and you can’t be anywhere close to caloric maximum.”
As if mentioning food had conjured it, the server returned with a heavy tray. When it was all on the table in front of her, Pendt started to hyperventilate. She’d never seen so much food at one time in her entire life.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Ned leaned over and awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. “I know rations are tight on a merchant ship, but we’re a bit more relaxed here. Dinner’s on us.”
Pendt didn’t move, even though it was becoming clear that the boys were not going to start eating until she did.
“You know exactly how many calories are on the table, don’t you?” Fisher said. He took a small plate and broke a piece of something white in half. “This is bread,” he told her. “You dip it in the oil like this.”
It was the best thing Pendt had ever eaten. Tears sprang to her eyes, and for the first time in her life, she didn’t blink them away. The Harland was gone. She was going to fucking eat.
“I’m almost afraid to tell you about cheese,” Ned said, watching her closely. “And we’re definitely going to have to ease you into sweets.”
“Your ship wasn’t just rationed tightly,” Fisher said. “They starved you.”
“They didn’t,” Pendt said around a mouthful. “They gave me enough to grow.”
“But not enough to use the æther,” Fisher said.
“Not safely, no,” Pendt said. “I did it a couple of times as a kid before I learned how to suppress it.”
“How angry is your captain going to be?” Ned asked. He broke off a chunk of bread and chewed it lazily. “I get the feeling that your ship kind of . . . sucked.”
“She’ll be furious,” Pendt said. “But she can’t justify the entire fuel supply to retrieve me. She has no way to recoup the loss. She might be back, but I don’t think it’ll be soon.”
“What would have happened if you had stayed?” Fisher asked.
“My birthday is next week,” Pendt said with a shrug. “Then I’d be old enough for a contract.”
Ned swallowed and sat up straight. “Captain Arkady mentioned that they were on the way to meet up with a business contract,” he said. “In a month.”
“That was me, then, I guess,” Pendt said. “Everyone on the Harland has to earn oxygen, and for eighteen years, I’ve been almost entirely useless.”
The boys exchanged a look.
“Fisher, I can’t do this.” Ned held up his hands. “Not now.”
“Wait.” Fisher leaned forward. “We might be able to work something out.”
“‘We’?” Pendt asked.
Ned took a deep breath, but it was Fisher who spoke.
“Even after your birthday, as a spacer, the head of your family controls where you work, right?” he asked. Pendt nodded. “So whenever your aunt comes back, you’ll have no legal recourse to stay here.”
“No,” Pendt said. “My plan wasn’t very thorough. I mostly intended to hide.”
“This is going to sound like a lot,” Fisher said. He pushed the vegetable platter towards her. She was fascinated by the colours. “But I think you should listen to my whole proposal before you react.”
“See, you put it like that, and you’re guaranteed to have a blow-up,” Ned said. “We were going to offer to trade you all the credits you wanted and the nicest set of apartments on the station for a, uh, specific set of genes, but that won’t be enough to save you if your aunt comes back.”
“You want me to what?” Pendt said, horrified. It was everything she had left the Harland to avoid.
“It won’t work anyway,” Ned said. “So never mind.”
“Listen to me, both of you,” Fisher said. They stilled. “Pendt, it sounds like the Harland was awful and we want to help you escape from it if you can, but we’re in a tight situation too. If anything happens to Ned, the whole station dies. You both want freedom from the roles you were born into, and you can secure it for each other.”
“How?” Pendt asked.
“Marriage,” Fisher said.
There was a moment of total silence.
“Of all the antiquated shit you dig up, you have to pick that?” Ned said. “It’s unheard of.”
“It’s still legal,” Pendt said. Her voice was speculative. “It removes me from my family and puts me in yours. My aunt can’t claim me. You’re the one who would make decisions.”
“Actually, it’s Fisher,” Ned said, his voice flat. “He’s older.”
“You’d still need a baby,” Pendt said. This was something she understood. This was a business arrangement. Just with higher-than-usual stakes.
Ned winced.
“Well, yes,” Fisher said. “Specifically, one with a Y chromosome. Can you do that?”
Three hours ago, even thirty minutes ago, Pendt would have said no. But that was before bread. That was before cheese. That was before whatever “sweets” turned out to be.