A large part of Torian had hoped that Rhymarra might reinvent their family. She imagined living next door to Celise, or maybe even sharing another apartment. Family dinners—just the two of them. Inside jokes revived from childhood. Maybe Amelia would come visit.
But now, things were complicated. She hadn’t expected buying a starship that wouldmissher. If Rhymarra accepted them as citizens, Torian would have to live planet-side. For the first time, that idea made her a bit sad. Rhymarra used to be the adventure, but now… Moss was superseding that.
Where could Torian go with a living starship?
Anywhere.
Everywhere.
It didn’t matter. Celisehadto come first. But she couldn’t tell Moss that; there must be a way to unify her paths.
“What is Celise like?” Moss asked.
“She’s rude. Sarcastic. Terrible bedside manner. Great doctor, though.” Torian cut another, smaller bite of her pancake, chewing thoughtfully. “She lives in hyperspeed, always doing something. I guess I can’t blame her, considering she’s running out of time—but I think you’d like her.”
Moss replied factually, “Celisewill likeme. But then again, everyone does. I’m a delight.”
“Oh yeah.” Torian polished off her pancakes, eating more than she probably should. As she finished up, the warmth of the meal settled over her like a blanket, lulling her into comfortable quiet, making her eyelids heavy. She swallowed a yawn. “It might be bedtime for me.”
“I do not sleep.”
“Lucky you.”
“The evidence is unclear. I have heard good things about ‘dreams,’ although it is strange you hallucinate vividly each night and claim it is healthy.”
Torian snorted, setting her plate into the small, shallow sink. Debating dreams with an ultra-intelligent computer was not something she particularly wanted at this moment, so she replied, “They are weird.”
“The sleeping pod is here,” Moss said, and illuminated the light over a narrow metal door at the base of the flight deck stairs. “The bedding is likely musty. You may replace it with blankets from the chest below the cot.”
The sleeping room wasn’t spacious, but it did feel cozy. The bed was pressed against the back wall, with just enough room to stand beside it. Moss grew across the floor, as was typical, but the walls were mostly bare. Instead of ambient lighting or a window, there were two lamps—one overhead, stylized like the roots ofa tree, and one on a shelf above the bed. Unlike the main living area, there wasn’t a window here.
Torian scooped up the comforter—it had definitely been munched on by insects at some point, because there were several holes through its fabric. She grimaced, glancing around, but whichever bugs had done it must be long dead. Probably.
“Do you have a fabric recycler—”
“There is an incinerator in the engine room.” Moss spoke from the sole speaker in the sleeping pod. There wasn’t a camera in here that she could see, which was a bit of a relief.
“An incinerator?” Torian blanched. “That seems excessive.”
“He left me for over one hundred years.Allof his belongings should be incinerated.”
Torian hesitated. “How about I just recycle them at the next port?”
Silence.
“You are the captain.” Its tone clearly implied that it both disapproved of this choice, and judged her for it.
Torian rummaged beneath the bed for a new comforter—it was kept in a wooden chest, and seemed to have been spared any moths. She stripped off her stiff pants, her gun, her jacket, and flopped onto the mattress, drawing a slow breath. “How long until we land at Rhymarra? Seven hours?”
“Seven hours and thirty-six minutes until wormhole exit. From there, it is another hour to Rhymarra.”
“Excellent. See you in a bit.” Torian stretched, cuddling the pillow. It also smelled musty, but there was something lovely about the warmth of a bed after a long day. She left the sleeping pod’s door open, partly because she liked the ambient light from the kitchen, partly because it felt creepy to close herself inside this tiny room on the first night.
Moss replied, “I do notsee. I compute visual data received from the ship’s cameras.”
“That’s all our brains do.”
Silence. “I… acknowledge that logic.”
