Mirror Space - Marianne de Pierres [109]
Mira opened the door and light flooded the space, illuminating a cabinet that doubled as comm-sole and ablution station with a pop-up stool, and behind it, two beds. The room was no wider than the door, and only just long enough for the furnishings.
She ushered Thales in front of her and shut the door firmly behind them, checking it was locked. He stood awkwardly in her way, but she pushed past him and sank onto the lower bed.
‘Baronessa?’
‘Just let me rest a while, and then we will speak,’ she said wearily. The abdominal pains had not returned, but she suddenly felt completely exhausted. She yearned for the soothing replenishment of Primo vein, but it would be a while before she was reunited with her ship — if ever. If Landhurst found her. . . Necessary risk, she told herself as she drifted.
Her sleep was heavy at first - a good while of it - and then became interspersed with the sounds of Thales climbing down from the top bunk to wash.
He switched on the station news and she listened to the low, droning report of the OLOSS summit. Though she could barely hear the details, she recognised the newsreader’s solemn tones.
When Thales requested a search on someone called Fariss O’Dea, however, she jerked fully awake. ‘Stop!’ she gasped.
His hand obediently blanked the screen, and he swivelled on the stool to stare at her.
Mira licked dry lips, and struggled to an upright position. As she moved, so did the baby, giving a sharp, reassuring dig under her ribs. ‘Station communication may be monitored for anything suspicious. Searching for anyone specific may draw attention to our comm-sole. Even an idle search.’
He reddened. ‘I-I am sorry, Baronessa. I didn’t think. The woman - Fariss - who saved my life, I’m concerned to know her fate.’
Mira closed her eyes and rubbed them gently with her forefingers; she felt grimy from being inside the milk bladder. ‘I think it is time you told me your story. We must be clear on the risks.’
He nodded.
‘Change places with me, and speak while I wash,’ she said.
He did as she instructed without comment or protest. He hadn’t been difficult or assertive when they’d last been together, but even so, Mira sensed a change in him. His volatility seemed to have been replaced by compliance.
She closed the comm-sole and opened the basin segment, sighing with pleasure at the sight of the tube of scented liquid soap. Her life lacked even the most basic of pleasures. She squeezed some onto her dry hands and mixed it with a spray of water, revelling in the slippery, gentle feel of it. She craved to unfold the larger basin and wash her entire body, but modesty denied her. ‘Tell me.’
‘When you were taken from Rho Junction, we - the mercenaries, the God Discoverer, Bethany and I - all went our separate ways. Circumstance had brought about my meeting an educated Lostolian gentleman at the medi-clinic where I went to receive the DNA. The man was called Tekton. He is a tyro with the Sole Entity. A man I believe you have mentioned before - though at the time, his name meant little to me.’
‘Tekton? The archiTect?’ Mira stiffened. ‘What brought him to Rho Junction?’
‘He did not disclose the details of his visit, though he brought a metallist to the clinic for urgent medical help, so I presume his business was in that line.’ Thales screwed up his forehead, remembering. ‘A craftsman, I think. A filthy old man who looked more like a vagrant.’
‘Did they mention which metal? Was it quixite?’ Mira’s thoughts flew in several directions at once. Could this be proof of Marchella’s dealing with Tekton, the Lostolian? If so, what was he crafting from the alloy? How close she had been to meeting him . ..
Thales was speaking again, and she dragged her attention back to him.
‘. . . but something told me not to allow myself to be injected with