HMS Valediction

Chapter 12.2

The textile merchant holds up my pants that are skinny like fork prongs. He scans me with one squinted eye before clicking in regret at my clothes. "Commander, I can't do much with this. You're going to grow and then you'll have to come back and get these altered again."

"Don't judge. Just get it done," I snap.

"It'll cost you."

"I didn't expect anything else." I hold out my hand, palm up.

We both stare at my empty hand.

"I'll be right back." Embarrassed, I slink away from the garment booth, my green dress swirling around my knees.

I stalk the passageways. Even if it pains me to think about visiting him, Knuckles is the one person who can help. I need to be integrated back into ARC10. Without my PAHLM, I'm a drop of motor oil in a rain puddle. I can't exist here without the device.

When I arrive, the clinic door is shut. With angry, lowered lids, I glare at the scan box on my right, flexing my empty hand. If this wasn't a desperate situation, I'd turn-heel and disappear. My first thought is to leave, come back later, avoid this huge blow-out building momentum in my gut, but I can't run away anymore. I need to be battle-ready no matter what the fight. Get back to that kind of Janika Lorn.

"Knuckles!" I pound on the door. "We need to talk."

Silence.

"Knuckles!" I shout again, banging harder.

Nothing.

"Please. . ." My voice trails off and dies by my feet.

There's no clock anywhere. There's no way to tell the time without asking. But asking informs others of my predicament. Others knowing my troubles means I'm at a disadvantage. Disadvantages mean I'm easy prey – that I've lost. I don't want to lose. Not anymore. Not anything else.

The Nest.

There'll be a hoard of operators with PAHLMs, all who know my situation. I've yet to face them. I might as well suck it up and get it over with.

My ascent is slow as the lift chugs along, much more clunky than before. I lean against the entrance, arms crossed, eyes downcast, waiting for someone to exit so I can slide in when the Nest doors open. As soon as I can, I slip in. Coodi gazes up on my entrance – her stoic face revealing no emotion. I could be the Lady or the plague, I would have no idea how she feels about me standing here in my green dress and black boots.

"Commander," she greets.

"Coodi."

"What are you doing here so early?"

I open my hands and shrug. "Lost track of time."

Her cheek twitches with a poorly suppressed grin. "You have an hour. It's oh-six-hundred."

"I'm here. Might as well start the day."

She scans me from head to toe. "In that?"

"Do you have any cow-sized spares?"

We head to the window and watch the vendors and market visitors shuffle around in their casing. The flow is fluid like water in pipes. She stands a little straighter. "Do you need to borrow some creds?"

The inquiry, an innocent suggestion, would mean the world to me if it didn't dump a bucket of ice-cold reality over my head. Shame ripples through my body. "No," I say quietly. "I'll be fine."

"I don't think Knuckles has your PAHLM either. They confiscated everything and I'm not sure if anyone retrieved them for you. We left in such a hurry."