It took nearly a week before my body stopped aching. I had two blue-black eyes, a forehead split wide open and stitched back together with clear thread, a right hand whose fingers hardly moved due to how hard I’d punched, lingering concussion symptoms, and a stuffy nose. Funny thing was, it wasn’t the worst off I’d ever been. It had been far worse when Harrison’s “good friends” had come for a visit.
My right hand trembled at the thought, teeth gnawed at my lips.
No, it’s best to forget. Ignore the scales, good or evil. Don’t look at them.
Gossip around the ship was rampant. Whenever the scrubs gathered to watch the latest Demonio Primario they’d disperse if I ever even thought of appearing. I’d fixed the ship and saved their lives, but they were afraid of me, afraid I’d fly off the handle again. They were rightfully oblivious to the hidden threat on board, but seemed to believe that after going off the deep end someone had indeed taken revenge and kicked my ever loving ass. They wanted no part of that. All I heard in passing as I moved about were harsh whispers and wards against the Malocchio. I became progressively isolated, tumbling deeper and deeper into the wells of paranoia. It was only a matter of time before the attacker would come to finish the job. The target had me just where they wanted me; afraid, alone, and confused. That asshole was going to kill me if I didn’t find out who they were, and quickly.
I made way towards Med 1, hoping to pop by and get a few pills to ease the pain, but as I passed the arboretum a hand shot out and took hold of my right arm. I twisted my body and nearly laid its owner flat.
“Hey, hey!” Devins said, tipping his head back and not letting go of my arm. My bicep flexed against the strain of his grip, every fibrous cord vibrating.
“What do you want?” I tried again to pull away, my feet shouting for me to run, but he had me. I didn’t like being touched, let alone man handled. I didn’t like being this close to anyone. I could smell the dried onions on his breath, see exhaustion in his bloodshot eyes.
“Nothing, just trying to make sure you’re safe.” His fingers tightened as he leaned in, further invading my personal space to peer over my shoulder and see if anyone else was around. “Just been worried about you, that’s all. Ever since the Griffin thing, ya know? And now? Damn man, your face looks like hamburger meat. Goddard, this is bad.”
I twisted my shoulders and jerked hard. This time he let go.
“I’m fine.” I took two steps back, putting a modicum of distance between us. “Don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself.”
“I can see that.” He almost laughed, but decided to scratch the back of his neck instead. “You be careful, friend. I don’t want you getting hurt again. Whoever it was, I hope they got it out of their system. Remember what happened to Lenny back in training? He got hazed real bad. Am I right?”
“This wasn’t a hazing,” I growled. “Whoever came after me was pissed.”
Devins’s face went dark, his pupils contracting into pinpricks. “No. No, it wasn’t. I’ll see you later, man.” He left me alone and vanished among the trees.
I kept to my original task, now not just hurting but shaking. Doc gave me a handful of NSAID pain relivers. Child’s play. I still felt like shit. Maybe what I really needed was what César had had. Or, perhaps maybe just another Goddamned drink.
I made the sign of a cross over my heart and asked for forgiveness. It’s not safe to even think profanity like that. I might die on this journey, but I didn’t want to burn for all eternity just for speaking blasphemy.
After leaving Med 1 the earpiece tucked in my jumpsuit’s front pocket vibrated. I ducked behind a bulkhead and put it on. A wary crewmember strolled past my hiding spot, then abruptly spun on their heels and fled double time as soon as they spotted me.
“Hello?” I whispered and peered around the corner looking for eavesdroppers.
“David,” Liberty said. “How are you holding up?”
“Tired. Sore. Afraid for my life. The usual shit.”
“Sucks. Figure anything out?”
“Not really. But do you have to guess my first thought?”
“Ol’ Bushel britches?”
I rolled my eyes. Was that an ancient Disney movie reference? The sheriff from Robin Hood? Boy, had she paid attention in our classic film class. “Dour Face.”
“Ahh, that’s right. Need a break?”
“I’d love one. What do you have in mind? It’s too early to go sneaking off, and I doubt we’ll have another everyone sleeps at once night after what happened to me. Cap isn’t foolish.”
“Agreed. We can’t be caught together. Here, walk through the next section and pass by me. Then, go out into the hall, go to the following section, and cross over again, like a square wave on an oscilloscope.”
“Umm, why?”
“You’ll see.” A familiar mischief clung to her words. “You will see, good sir.”
I did as she asked and entered Crew 1. She met me in the center of the section, a hidden smile brightly shining in her eyes, slid something in my pocket and kept moving. I reached for it, not slowing for an instant, and put it to my lips. I pressed the button on the side and took a drag. It was more of that bomb, blueberry goodness she’d previously shared.
It took me a second to fully register just what she was doing going in and out of sections, but it was brilliant. Leave it to her to be brilliant. I entered the following section and slid past her, this time trying to mask my smile. I placed the tube in her side pocket. We did it again.
This went on for a while, crossing one another’s path before going back into the hall. As a result, no one saw us together for more than an instant, however, the two of us got the chance to look upon each other in a silent joke. Each time I saw her face it was all the more joyous, and not the result of natural green goodness. In fact, either this was the weakest hash oil I’d ever smoked, or it was just tobacco—and that’s fine by me.
We used to do things like this all the time back on Mars. Games, games, games. Sneaking around the market and hiding in clothes racks, see who could scream the word penis outside Brethren chapel the loudest without getting caught, spray temporary color down the backs of the Estate jerks’ coiffures who came to throw around their influence. The fun never ended when we were together. It was always a new adventure.
I passed her one last time in the cargo bay, sliding the atomizer tube back into her pocket while accidentally brushing her backside. I twisted my lips as if to apologize and she barked with mock contempt, swaying her hips the tiniest bit as she went back down the hall. I collapsed on a crate of food stuff and rested for a minute, limp. For the first time in a while my bruises didn’t hurt.
“O seven hundred. Channel five forty,” she said into the earpiece.
I piped up. “Won’t we get caught? Security, hell, even XO peruses the information network.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.”