hard. Other than Caldswell and whatever insane contact he was meeting out here, I didn’t think anyone would be crazy enough to go out in this weather. I was just glad we weren’t staying long. The ice was still pelting the Fool ’s hull like it was the back wall at a firing range, and even though I could see on my suit that the ship’s internal temperature hadn’t changed, just knowing the snow was out there made me feel wet and cold to my bones. The sooner we left this place, the happier I’d be.
Rashid didn’t look like anything would make him happy, but he didn’t fight the captain again. When it was clear there would be no more questions, Caldswell hit the switch to open the cargo bay. The new door slid open with a soft rumble, and as the seal cracked, a blast of snow billowed in, dropping a foot of white stuff on the floor before the door had opened halfway. Caldswell shook his head at the snowdrift that was building in the middle of his cargo bay before pulling his scarf down from his mouth. “And clean this up!” he yelled.
“Yes sir,” I grumbled, cutting on my suit’s heaters. Rashid, whose suit was too thin to have heaters, made do with folding his arms tighter over his chest and glowering.
Caldswell pulled his scarf back up and marched down the ramp, which was already covered in a thick sheet of ice. His daughter walked behind him, fitting her feet into the large holes left by Caldswell’s boots. The cook went last.
By this point I was standing by the door with my hand on the switch, ready to close up the cargo bay and cut off the snow the second Caldswell’s group was through. Considering my position, I’d thought my intention was obvious, but the cook clearly didn’t understand that having three feet of snow in your ship was a bad thing, because he stopped on the threshold. He was so buried in coats, I could actually look at him without feeling too bad, and I used this temporary immunity to glare a warning. When he still didn’t move, I opened my mouth to tell him to get the lead out, but the words died in my throat, because that was when he turned and stared straight at me.
I was in my suit with my visor down, looking at him through my cameras. Even so, his gaze cut right through me, and the revulsion stabbed me like a blade. I looked away at once, furious. I hated when he did that. But though my head was turned, I could still see the cook through my side camera, and that was how I caught the way he was looking at me.
Once before, when I’d first woken up on Falcon 34, the cook had looked at me with a strange mix of loss and triumph. The look he gave me now was much the same, only there was no triumph this time. When he stared at me now, all I saw was sadness, like he’d lost something precious. I had no idea why he would look at me like that. He’d made it clear back on Wuxia that he hated me. But as his eyes bored into me, I suddenly had the strangest feeling that I’d forgotten something. Something important.
“Charkov!”
The cook and I both jumped, and I looked to see the captain standing at the bottom of the ramp, glaring murder. “Let’s go.”
The cook turned without a word, walking down the icy ramp delicately as a cat despite his heavy boots. The moment he was out of the way, I hit the door. But as the metal slid into place, closing off the freezing wind, I couldn’t help one last look.
The cook and the captain were both facing away from me now, walking off into the snow with Ren between them. But though neither man was looking at me anymore, Ren was. She was staring over her shoulder, her head turned straight toward me at a painful angle. When she saw me looking, her dark eyes pinned on mine, and she pulled her scarf down to shoot me a smile.
I’d seen Ren smile only once, back in the lounge when I’d first realized she could also see the floating, glowing bugs I’d thought were hallucinations. Now as then, her smile was terrifying, so much so that I took a step
Rashid didn’t look like anything would make him happy, but he didn’t fight the captain again. When it was clear there would be no more questions, Caldswell hit the switch to open the cargo bay. The new door slid open with a soft rumble, and as the seal cracked, a blast of snow billowed in, dropping a foot of white stuff on the floor before the door had opened halfway. Caldswell shook his head at the snowdrift that was building in the middle of his cargo bay before pulling his scarf down from his mouth. “And clean this up!” he yelled.
“Yes sir,” I grumbled, cutting on my suit’s heaters. Rashid, whose suit was too thin to have heaters, made do with folding his arms tighter over his chest and glowering.
Caldswell pulled his scarf back up and marched down the ramp, which was already covered in a thick sheet of ice. His daughter walked behind him, fitting her feet into the large holes left by Caldswell’s boots. The cook went last.
By this point I was standing by the door with my hand on the switch, ready to close up the cargo bay and cut off the snow the second Caldswell’s group was through. Considering my position, I’d thought my intention was obvious, but the cook clearly didn’t understand that having three feet of snow in your ship was a bad thing, because he stopped on the threshold. He was so buried in coats, I could actually look at him without feeling too bad, and I used this temporary immunity to glare a warning. When he still didn’t move, I opened my mouth to tell him to get the lead out, but the words died in my throat, because that was when he turned and stared straight at me.
I was in my suit with my visor down, looking at him through my cameras. Even so, his gaze cut right through me, and the revulsion stabbed me like a blade. I looked away at once, furious. I hated when he did that. But though my head was turned, I could still see the cook through my side camera, and that was how I caught the way he was looking at me.
Once before, when I’d first woken up on Falcon 34, the cook had looked at me with a strange mix of loss and triumph. The look he gave me now was much the same, only there was no triumph this time. When he stared at me now, all I saw was sadness, like he’d lost something precious. I had no idea why he would look at me like that. He’d made it clear back on Wuxia that he hated me. But as his eyes bored into me, I suddenly had the strangest feeling that I’d forgotten something. Something important.
“Charkov!”
The cook and I both jumped, and I looked to see the captain standing at the bottom of the ramp, glaring murder. “Let’s go.”
The cook turned without a word, walking down the icy ramp delicately as a cat despite his heavy boots. The moment he was out of the way, I hit the door. But as the metal slid into place, closing off the freezing wind, I couldn’t help one last look.
The cook and the captain were both facing away from me now, walking off into the snow with Ren between them. But though neither man was looking at me anymore, Ren was. She was staring over her shoulder, her head turned straight toward me at a painful angle. When she saw me looking, her dark eyes pinned on mine, and she pulled her scarf down to shoot me a smile.
I’d seen Ren smile only once, back in the lounge when I’d first realized she could also see the floating, glowing bugs I’d thought were hallucinations. Now as then, her smile was terrifying, so much so that I took a step
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