HMS Valediction

Chapter 2.2

When I arrive at the brig, McCroy is stiff before the doors of the cells, his stance as rigid as it was hours ago. The kids of Ground Zero wander their prison, giggling into the air and petting each other. The other inhabitants of different cages perform similar dances.

Murry seems to be the only one to notice my entrance.

I straighten, pull my smoothest voice from my days back behind the bar. My body becomes smooth butter as I casually strut to his cell. "O'Deea." I greet him with a small, forced smile—one he would have easily recognized as the one I wore while pouring cups of Junk.

"Your Highness." He casually salutes with two fingers on his forehead. His eyes follow his finger's movements and I lose him to a trance.

"O'Deea, how's that poor creature they saddled you with? Shawna? What rack was she assigned to? How about the little ramp-rats—those kids I always saw running around the Rotunda?"

Murry's attention drifts back over at the mention of his partner. "Shawna?"

"Yeah, Shawna. That gorgeous woman who is way too good for the likes of you, you drunk. Maybe I can clear this whole thing up if you just point me in her direction. Would you like to go home to her tonight?"

"Tough luck, Butternut. She ain't on this boat."

McCroy's stiffens. He reaches for his baton.

With my hand open, fingers spread, I tell McCroy to stop and return my attention to O'Deea. "What do you mean? She has to be here somewhere."

"ARC9." He sniffles and flicks the tip of his nose back and forth with the end of his finger. "She and the kids are on the luxury liner while I'm stuck here with the queen cunt."

As McCroy's baton swings toward the bars, I wrap my hand around mid-air. Staring O'Deea right in his completely dilated pupils, I speak so low, he has to lean in to hear me. "Murry, it's only because I know below that shit stain you wear for skin, there's a half-way decent human-being buried deep. Out of this knowledge alone will I stop this lethally trained VIPER from coming in there and beating your worthless life away."

Murry looks bored. "Where's Simon?"

I need a different tactic. This won't work for Murry. Maybe not for any of these kids.

I've seen the records of each person in these cells. Not a single inhabitant is under eighteen. They look like kids and act like babies, but they are adults.

Where are the children? I physically restrain myself from touching my belly. I lower the baton and press it against McCroy's chest, telling him with a simple lowered gaze that this is fine. Everything is under control. But it's not. My nerves flutter under my skin despite doing everything within my power to quell their vibrations.

No children.

No children.

No children anywhere but mine.

Where is Hayomo? Switching on my messages, I open an empty PIM to ask to meet when out of the corner of my eye, I catch someone else sliding into the room.

Moyra pauses as she catches me mid-PIM. It's startling to see her move. I wonder how long I'll flinch when she walks into the room. We have a quiet stare-down, remembering the slight riff from hours ago when she barged into my room, reminding me that she is far from a figure of stone. I don't understand why she thinks that by reminding me of her vibrant life, it will make up for the fact that she was supposed to be dead. I don't have time to worry about her now. I continue typing.