Darius’ displeasure in being interrupted is subtle. A mere tightening of his mouth.
He sets the piece down in a precise line with the others and straightens. “Good morning,” he says, more out of courtesy than sentiment.
Idris returns the greeting warmly with his signature smile.
Darius starts his report, flipping through a short stack of papers. “At the current speed, we’ll arrive at the designated coordinates in about a week. But the ship’s in lawless international waters.” His gaze moves toward me. “That should align with your goal.”
I nod. “It does.”
“All systems are within predicted parameters.” His tone is clipped. “That’s all for now.”
He lowers himself back over the table and resumes adjusting the metal pieces, the clink of them marking the end of the meeting.
Idris takes hold of my elbow. Our cue to exit before Darius has to dismiss us verbally. The door slides shut behind us.
“He seems anxious, doesn’t he?” Idris murmurs.
“There was no indication of that just now,” I say. “Objectively, there’s no reason for concern.”
Idris huffs a light laugh. “You say it like it’s obvious. But it helps.” His shoulders lower. “Thanks, Em.”
We walk the short distance to the staff’s office where there’s fresh coffee. Idris reaches for two mugs. He pours mine first, filling my mug, and adding a precise splash of cream. He hands it to me without looking atthe cup, only at my face.
When I take it, he leans forward and places a quick kiss on my cheek.
“You always ground me, Em,” he says. “Especially when I’m overthinking.”
“That’s your cognitive pattern,” I reply. “I simply provide counterbalance.”
His smile pulls down. “How romantic…”
I scoff at his sarcastic remark.
He holds his own coffee, wafting the sugary scent my way. “I’m going to check on the staff.” He takes a sip and smiles wide. “First-day nerves can be contagious.”
I nod. “I’ll go to the MedBay. The subjects should be awake soon.”
“Right.” He steals another kiss, directly from my lips this time. “Today will go great, Em.”
He steps away, heading toward the central corridor.
I sip my coffee, watching him go. Warmth spreads across my face. I normally file feelings away, but not this one. This feeling expanding in me is gratitude toward Idris. I’ll have to tell him he does the same to me. He knows my cognitive patterns—my bad habits—and provides a counterbalance.
With one last sip, I turn toward the MedBay, ready to begin my work.
***
It’s eight o’clock exactly when I step through the MedBay doors. The room’s been calibrated and prepared perfectly.
The deep corner wall of the MedBay is a mirror to security feeds. I use the layered screens to monitor the subjects when I need to. In the gymnasium, I find the two I expected to be up earlier than therest.
Stan sits on a weight bench with a towel around his neck, evidence of recent exertion still visible on his damp skin. His posture is open and directed toward the person standing across from him. Nil stands near the water station. His attention stays on Stan rather than the room.
I watch their movements as they leave the gym, pacing together toward the MedBay. They walk in rhythm well. And I find myself looking for longer than necessary, taking in the way a grainy screen can capture their appealing appearances. I also consider their connection. Their relationship is a natural alignment that’s evolved over time, far longer than one night in shared quarters. This fascinating dynamicwarrantsobservation.
One of the staff members speaks behind me. “Subjects Eleven and Twelve are close by.”
I step back from the monitors, take my tablet, and walk over to the other corner.
