“Do you desire death?” Regi asked. The answer to that would inform the actions he must take as security chief.
“Not even a little,” Dante said, and relief washed through Regi like an overflowing river after a storm. “But you look worried, and I know that sometimes when people have seen something bad...” Dante turned his attention back to the broken valve.
“I am worried about you sitting in this room,” Regi said.
“That’s real... I guess the word is nice, but since you’re head of security, I’m tempted to go with a word like naïve.”
Regi brayed with laughter, and the sound made Dante leap to his feet and spin around as if a frim were about to attack him with beak and wings. If Poque were that direct, Regi might have considered throwing himself out an airlock to avoid any more of her blessings, but he assumed they were safe from frim in space.
“I apologize,” Regi said. “You startled me into laughter.”
“That’s loud.”
“Most species have much louder laughter than yours,” Regi said. “I suggest you avoid amusing a Rit’let’telaic. Their laughter is deafening for any creature not Rit’let’telaic.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Dante wrapped his strange fingers around the upright brace of the bed. “I guess I didn’t offend you.”
“People on this ship tend to treat me like I’m terrifying because my people possess fearsome technologies. However, my people would be more likely to endorse your judgment of me. It has been a long time since anyone has accused me of being naïve, and you make me miss my own people.”
“The people we’re now going to visit? Those folks?”
“Yes.” Regi smoothed his fur down on first his right arm and then his left. He hadn’t even realized he had bristled, but Dante left him feeling so emotionally off-balance he was almost ready to volunteer to speak to Ean. Almost. “If you feel a need to seek death, I would ask that you speak to me about it. I would endeavor to talk you out of it, but if I were to fail unforgivably, I would ensure you did not put others at risk.”
Dante was silent for a time, studying Regi with an intensity that Regi found discomfiting. “I expected you to put up more of a fight about that.”
“When you tell me you wish to die, I will fight so I impress even the cold season gods.”
For a time, silence returned. “Even them, huh? I take it they’re good fighters.”
Regi still felt odd talking to an outsider about the gods, but at least Dante wasn’t rude or dismissive. “They are the most dangerous of the three-season gods. The gods choose sacred animals that reflect their nature, and many of the favorites of the cold season gods are venomous or predatory or both.” Poque had some of the least dangerous sacred animals with her beloved frim, but they were still capable of maiming a man. Those damn birds were the bane of every Kowri who lived near a large body of open water.
Dante sank onto the bunk again.
Regi didn’t want Dante to consider an escape into death. “Would you mind if I stayed in the room with you?” he asked. He didn’t mind a lack of privacy, especially not around Dante who neither feared Regi nor dismissed his beliefs. Regi found it so odd that his crewmates could simultaneously cower from Kowri technology and pity the religious convictions of the creatures who had invented it.
“I wouldn’t mind some company,” Dante said.
Regi was almost certain that indicated acceptance. His use of negatives was sometimes confusing. “I shall move my belongings into the room.” Regi just had to make sure that Ter assigned an engineer to disable the locking mechanism first.
Dante put the broken valve down on the bed covering. “I should get some better blankets in here. These are shit at holding out the cold, and if I’m going to have company, manners dictate that I have decent bedding.” Dante had an unusual firmness in his voice, as if the issue of blankets was of some great import. Regi wondered if either bedding or guests played a central role in his traditions.
Maybe Regi would have some time to discover now that the immediate danger from the black hole had passed. Hopefully, they would have an uneventful trip to Empire space and then an exalted could explain to Regi why his goddess had suddenly left her fingerprints on his soul and her blessings on his bruised body.
Dante’s face transformed, and he picked up the valve and launched it across the room. For a fragile species, he had impressive musculature and control because the valve slammed into the wall and broke into two pieces. Without a pause, Dante then gave Regi a small smile as though nothing had happened. “I’ll go get those blankets now.”
Huumans.
Regi had to wonder if they were all this odd or if the pirates and their willingness to enslave and remove the huuman’s beard had done some permanent damage. Regi would have to show patience and watch. Dante was wise to recognize the naiveté of a security chief who didn’t acknowledge the danger in an untested species—especially one who had been psychologically wounded. When Poque offered her blessings, she did it like her beloved frim—with flapping and flailing that left a man cringing from a danger that attacked in every direction at once. Regi just hoped Dante didn’t pose a threat to the ship because Regi would hate himself if his job required him to damage Dante further.
After touching his temples in a quick, silent prayer, Regi hurried after him.
