“So what was with the gongs?” I asked, now that we were both breathing normally and my trembling limbs were steady again.
Rema gestured to the long passageway in front of us. “It was the signal for the start of the challenge. And a gentle reminder to keep our hands to ourselves.”
It didn’t seem all that gentle to me, my ears were still ringing.
I huffed, moving around him to stare down the other passageway, and then moved to do the same to our left and right. It seemed endless, with tall burnished red stone walls at least fifty feet tall. The corridors of the maze were lit with torches, set at equal lengths along the walls, as the sunlight didn’t penetrate to the maze floor. It made the whole thing feel gloomy, like a tomb.
“Well this is certainly a cheery place for the start of a marriage ceremony. Nothing says ‘I’ll love you forever’ like a spooky crypt maze.”
Rema chuckled, coming to stand by my side. “It is a little morbid, isn't it?” At my wide eyed nod he laughed and gestured down one of the corridors with his lower hand. “Which way would you like to go first?”
I shrugged and started to the right. “What’s stopping us from just flying to the top to see where we are?”
The corridor was narrow, barely wide enough for Rema to move through without scraping his shoulders on the smooth walls. It was a good thing the torches were set higher than his head.
“It would break faith. Besides, this is supposed to be a bonding experience. We wouldn’t want it to end too quickly.”
So nothing was actually stopping us. Good to know.
“I know only a little about your time on Earth, Patty. Would you tell me more about yourself? What are your favorite hobbies? Do you enjoy sweets? What music do you listen to?”
I glanced over my shoulder at him with a smile. We’d had discussions like this on the Solus while I tagged along with him doing his rounds or just hanging out with him on the bridge. He knew about my father being an asshole, and that I’d had a very rough childhood. We’d even touched on the sensitive topics of my sex work and drug use. I believe in being open and honest with anyone I was romantically interested in and made sure to be upfront about my past. But it never hurts to go over it again.
“Well, my father wasn’t much of a ‘protect and provide’ type of man, so I didn’t get much as a kid. So when I left I developed an almost irrational desire for new things. New clothes or shoes. Snacks, things like that. And seeing as how I was a homeless teen and couldn’t afford new things… I stole them. I became an accomplished pickpocket, and shoplifting became something of a hobby of mine,” I explained with a wry chuckle.
“What types of things did you steal?” he asked, the tone of his voice suggesting that if he’d had a way to take notes, he’d be furiously writing in a notebook right now.
“Oh, clothes mostly. And shoes. Jewelry, but not like anything crazy expensive. There is this store in most malls— that’s like a huge market place— that sells cheap costume jewelry. I’d stuff my pockets full of things like that.” I shrugged, finally coming to the end of the corridor. There was only a right turn, so I followed along the pathway.
“Fifteen year old girls don’t think about stealing things that matter. I just wanted all the stuff I’d been denied growing up. I’d even stolen several Barbie dolls just to take them out and play with them for five seconds before putting them on my shelf. I stayed in this old abandoned house for about a year before thecity came to knock it down. I had that placed packed full of random shit.”
I hadn’t even had the good sense to pawn any of my stuff for some easy cash. I was so possessive of things, unable to let go of even a single sock. I’d gotten better as I’d aged, but I was still weirdly attached to material things.
“I like clothes, shoes, jewelry, food, trips, and just anything really, Rema. It doesn’t have to be big and extravagant, but I like those things too.” I wasnotabout to be humble and the whole ‘oh, I’m so low maintenance’. It would be bullshit. I wanted all the stuff. I was materialistic and proud.
“Spoil you rotten. Understood,” he said, a smile in his voice.
I laughed, coming to a stop so he would bump into me, and leaned the back of my head on his chest so I could look up at him. “He gets it, ladies!” I said to the empty air.
Four arms wrapped around me and squeezed. “I will pamper you, Patty. I can promise that.”
I stroked one of his arms. “I’ll do the same for you, Rema. Though I don’t actually have any money. How does one go about earning credits in space?”
Besides the betting pool I had set up on the Solus for a whole host of things from how fast Jack rips someone apart to how quick it would take a specific maintenance specialist to fix a broken down cart. It had spiraled, and I hadn’t actually checked to see how many credits I’d accumulated.
Rema let me go so we could continue with finding our way out of the maze.
“You are being paid as a soldier. The Solus sent you a link ages ago with your payroll details. If my memory serves, you are ranked as an officer and are making a decent amount.”
I stopped to blink at him. “What? When did that happen?”
I never checked my emails back home, and I’d been ignoring the blinky light on the message orb in my room on the Soluseven before we'd landed on Korsal. The orb was back in my tent, thrown in one chest or another.
Rema looked up in thought and then back at me. “Hmm… I believe it was one of the first things Izari and Ohem had set up a few days after you and the others first arrived on the Solus. Jack, of course, has access to all of Ohem’s assets, of which there are many, not including the ones he lost when he separated from his House and from the Unity.”
“Do aliens not have their accounts frozen or locked down when they turn rebel?”
Rema grinned. “They do, but I am a fair hand better at hiding things. The Solus and her crew's credits were hidden the moment I was informed of Rakis’s actions.”
