HMS Valediction

Chapter 22.4

When I wake, there's a blanket draped around my body, tucked between me and the cold lockers poking into my back.

"She's awake."

I open my eyes just enough to see who's talking.

The woman. The beautiful one. The first mate. Across the room, only a few feet away, she sits on the floor with me, her legs crossed and her elbows on her knees. She rests her chin on her long, dark fingers that are entwined together. Deep brown eyes gaze at me from under dark eyelashes long enough to touch the stars.

"When you didn't return for three hours, I was sent to make sure you hadn't hanged yourself."

I stretch, my neck cracking uncomfortably as I adjust to face her. For the first time, I feel the chill in the room. Twisting the blanket in my fingers, I hug it closer to me. "You can report back to Captain Moon that his captive still lives."

"Ignore him." She grins. "He can be so sour."

I don't have a response. Despite the uncomfortable position, I want to go back to sleep. Turning away from her could be considered rude, but I can't think of anything else to do.

Nuna leaps to her feet. "Come now. We have to meet Teeno. He's worried about you, you know."

It would be easy to stay here. I could crumple into dust and let my skin rot away. All my problems would vanish. What would I have to worry about anymore? "I'm so tired."

She clicks her tongue. "Tired. We're all tired. But don't worry. You can sleep all you want when you are dead. For now, we have work to do. I have a ship to run. You have a baby to rescue."

At the mention of my son, my fire returns. "You're right."

She extends her hand to me. "This I know."

Looking at the soft skin of her fingers, the long nails, the ridges that make the webwork of her palm, it's so familiar but so different. Images of our broken world, the Topside, the crushed buildings and blackened sky all flood my mind at that second. When I blink, I'm back on Earth, burdened with a collapsed building on my chest. When I open my eyes again, I'm on a luxury liner, the weight of my failures crushing my ribs. Dean's hand. This stranger's hand.

She inches closer. "You must be very hungry. Teeno will order dinner from the kitchens. Anything you like. We have all the Earth delicacies."

I clasp her hand. "Fries?"

"I do not know this dish, but I will ask."

We stand in the locker room, hands together, staring eye-to-eye, her halo of tiny curls lifting from her head, my bald dome grimy with dried blood. We don't let go. Not for a few seconds.

She takes a blue shirt from the locker and holds it up against my chest.

"Blue is your color. Yes, it is." Draping the shoulders against mine, she backs away. "I will leave you here to dress, but I'll be back in six sondits. Be ready this time." She tugs at my earlobe and departs.

Words don't form. I stand there, the shirt falling to the ground. My earlobe tingling from her residual touch. Heat flares inexplicably from my inactive regions. The ones that were most ticklish when Dean was around. When Kai and I were at our naive beginnings.

Oh no.

I kick the shirt away and pick a new one out of the locker, grabbing a bra with it.

No. No, that' won't do.

I shove my arms through the blue shirt and quickly button it to the top. I grab a pair of underwear and a pair of crisp, dark blue pants from another locker and pull them on. As usual, I struggle to lift them over my wide hips and snip at my waist, still unrecognizable from my days before pregnancy and during. My body is alien. I don't know its shape anymore.