Chapter One

R egi was sorting reports when Vk slipped into his office. "You need to talk to Dante," she said without preamble.

"Why? Is he annoying Ter again?" Dante took perverse pleasure in provoking the engineer. Given how many setbacks they'd encountered while doing repairs, the foul-mouthed engineer had less patience than ever. Since they were trapped on a Kowri world where the lingering fear of execution haunted the ship, his foul mood had been exacerbated. Ter's profanities grew more creative every time his staff or their Kowri assistants identified yet another problem. At this point, a wounded freio would be safer than Ter.

Vk honked in amusement. "Like the rest of us, Dante has decided to avoid Ter until the current run of bad luck ends. Do you have an estimate for when your gods might stop blessing us with bad luck?"

Having the crew ask him to interpret the will of Kowri gods was a new experience for Regi. In the twelve years he had served on Coalition ships, crew members had either ignored any possibility of Regi having religious beliefs or deriding him for the possibility. In fact, the rest of the universe regarded belief in the gods as a sign that a culture was primitive and superstitious. defined a god as a myth written by superstitious primitives. For the Kowri, however, gods were the powerful, invisible neighbors who brought their twin blessings of disaster and opportunity in order to guide the Empire. Kowri who failed to listen suffered such an excess of bad luck that they died. They were dangerous neighbors.

Regi leaned back in his chair. "I cannot control or predict Ter. Why do you believe I could predict Kowri gods who are so massive that the Kowri appear as insignificant as gibuks crawling in the dirt?"

"I thought your goddess loved you."

"The Lady Divashi blesses me with bad luck and opportunity so that I will do her work. That is not love. Or if it is your definition of love, you should speak to Ean about your questionable emotional responses. I understand that she hopes to address the psychological impact on individual crew members after having been trapped in hostile territory for so long."

Vk cleared her nose with a huff. "You have a point. I do not envy you the attention of your gods. I am concerned about a disclosure from Bevit," she announced in an abrupt change of topic.

"I haven't seen a report."

"She was attempting to avoid anything official because she understands that you are sensitive about Dante's reputation."

Regi's fur rose in alarm. "What did she hope to avoid saying publicly?"

Her nose wrinkled. "Until Dante joined us, it never occurred to me how difficult it must be to have one's actions be judged as the standard by which an entire species is evaluated. I know that few of my species leave our planets, but outsiders visit and there are enough of us in service to various ships that if one looks up my species' name in the database, my skills and shortcomings are not used as the standard for all of Heor." Vk gave Regi a sharp and insightful look. She was his second-in-command in the security division, so if anyone would realize the isolating nature of having been the only Kowri in all of Coalition space, it would be her.

"I came to terms with it long ago," Regi said.

Vk straightened her nose out again, a gesture of agreement. "Maybe you are used to it, but I suspect Dante isn't, which is why the doctor did not want to put it into the record that he is currently imbibing fluid Merbol gave him with the intent of lowering his own inhibitions and disconnecting from personal concerns."

That was the most technical description of inebriation Regi had ever heard. "Dante is a medically fragile species. If he has been given illicit substances to alter his function, he should be in Medical." He swiped his desk to disconnect access and stood.

Vk moved to block his exit. "As Dr. Bevit pointed out, if he is in Medical, then she must generate a report. Since there are so few reports on the biological function of huumans, then his choice to become inebriated may be interpreted as a species trait."

They knew how difficult it was for some individuals to obtain work on Coalition stations or ships because they were from species perceived as irresponsible due to species traits. Dante's behavior now could define his people's relationship with the universe for the next several centuries.

"What does Bevit want me to do?"

"She wants you to stay with him and ensure that if there is a medical emergency, you call her."

As much as Regi feared the idea of Dante being alone while intoxicated, he was even more fearful of spending too much time alone with him. "Dante is a rather hearty individual considering that he comes from a medically fragile species. I'm sure he is fine," Regi said. He ignored the burning panic in the base of his throat that urged him to rush to Dante's side.

Ever since they had been lost in the wilderness together, Regi had developed an inappropriate fondness for the man. Dante had been stolen from his own world and his own people when he was still too young to be an adult by his own definition. He had never given in to self-death, even though his species' had a word for it, suicide , implying huumans used it regularly enough to require a unique term. And his loyalty had challenged Regi's own beliefs about those who were not fully adult.

No, Regi was not to be trusted around an inebriated Dante. Regi did not trust himself. He did not want to take advantage, but the desire was present and he could not ignore it. Therefore, he would rather shave his fur than place himself in the way of such temptation.

Instead of being impressed by Regi's self-control, Vk narrowed her eyes and studied him the way one might an edvidas that had crawled into one's quarters, leaving a trail of violently yellow slime behind.

"He requires monitoring," Vk said deliberately, so much so that the translator in Regi's head tingled in distress as it attempted to overcome the unfamiliar pronunciation.

Regi tried to keep his ears forward, but it was a battle. "If that is true, perhaps you should sit with him."

Vk was a good choice. She had left her world because she did not fit into the cultural expectations of her people, including the expectation to find a mate. Even if she grew to admire Dante as much as Regi did, she would never overstep that boundary due to her innate asexual nature. It made her the perfect companion for an inebriated Dante.

Vk huffed, expelling tiny bits of mucus lining. She didn't even apologize for spewing bodily fluids. She leaned into Regi's space, her hands braced on his desk. "If something is happening that requires him to escape reality to such an extent that he would use chemical means, then he requires a friend. I assumed you were his friend. If you are not, tell me and I shall be sure to fill that role and express my displeasure with your duplicitous nature as a duty of friendship."

Regi held his hands low in supplication. "It's not a good idea for me to be around him when his inhibitions are lowered."

"Why?"

Regi stared at her. She stared back. Then she straightened. Her nose lengthened so much all the wrinkles smoothed and her eyes grew wide. "I had thought you too inhibited to have such thoughts, Regi a'Divashi."

Regi sighed. He should have known he couldn't keep his feelings from Vk forever. "So did I," he admitted.

"That does not explain why you refuse to sit with a friend who needs your presence."

"Yes, it does. He needs a friend—an individual who will not pursue his own interests ahead of Dante's. I trust you to be Dante's friend, but I do not trust myself."

Vk gave him a look full of pity. "You are too critical of yourself. And you are too dismissive of Dante and his strength of personality. I have seen him force any number of people into verbal retreat. If you show an interest he is unwilling to return, he will force you to yield."

"If he is such a formidable individual, I expect he can handle intoxication." Regi's guilt whispered that personal fortitude and medical durability were not aligned in Dante's species.

"Considering that Bevit has no idea how huumans might metabolize intoxicating fluids, I do not have that much faith."

Regi was not equipped to protect Dante, although he had a passionate desire to detain Merbol for the sin of providing those fluids. "I assume the doctor has performed compatibility tests on the liquid and Dante's biology." Surely Dante was not foolish enough to imbibe an alien substance without checking for safety.

"Bevit believes it safe, but she also said that her belief is not absolute because huuman physiology is beyond her medical experience, and the database has no information to supplement her own. So you," Vk said before she poked three fingers into his chest, "need to get over your issues and sit with him in case there is a medical need. And while you are there, determine why your friend has asked for mind-altering liquids. That is not in Dante's character."

"You could assist as well as I."

"Stop being a coward," Vk said before leaving.

Outside the ship, Regi was an exalted. Kowri listened to him with awe. True, a significant percentage of Kowri hated him for bringing outsiders into Kowri space, but even the ones who hated him maintained respect. On the ship, that was not the case.

A petty part of Regi wanted to document Vk's refusal to accept an assignment given to her by her superior, but that wouldn't be fair. And Regi did value fairness. He also valued not taking advantage of a male too new to the universe to understand his place in it. So apparently, he was doomed to an evening of exerting iron self-control.

Either that or Regi was about to shame himself and the gods. The odds of that were higher than Regi would like.

When Regi stormed out of his office, he was in a dangerous mood. More than one crew member reversed direction to avoid him, but all too soon Regi was outside the room Dante had claimed. He took a deep breath and opened the door to see Dante sprawled on the floor. Because their Coalition ship required a curved cradle the Kowri Empire dock did not possess, the room, including Dante's mattress, was at a thirty-degree angle.

That seemed rather appropriate given how off-balance Regi felt in this situation. Dante lay on his back with his butt off the mattress and one hand flung wide, his odd number of digits clutching the narrowest part of a bottle. Regi was going to kill Merbol for giving Dante alcohol or Bevit for not confiscating it or Vk for making him deal with this.

"Regi!" Dante said in a musical voice.

"How are you feeling?" Regi asked.

Dante tilted his head to one side and smiled. "Regi! My partner in crime! My buddy! Your people make some damn good booze. You could make a hell of a living selling this stuff back home." He lifted the bottle.

"If my career as a Coalition security officer or a Kowri exalted ends, I will consider your suggestion." Regi wondered where he should sit. This was the room where the pirates had once kept the captured dops whose poison they had harvested to create narcotics.

All but two of the dops had moved on: Peaches, the older female Dante had inexplicably named after sweet tree fruits, and a much smaller male that remained ardent in his attempts to impress the lady and earn her favor. As the other dops had left, Dante had removed their cages, but he had not obtained any additional furniture, leaving the bed the only place to sit.

So Regi had a choice of looming over Dante or sitting on the bed next to him as he sprawled. The first was awkward; the second, dangerous.

"Who ratted me out?" Dante asked.

Regi perched on the farthest corner. "Your verb did not translate."

"Ratted? It means to tell others something that they have no right to know. It means to be like a rat with their beady little eyes and their naked tails." He gave a breathy laugh.

Regi frowned. "No one on this ship has a naked tail."

"Exactly," Dante cried in triumph before he jostled the bottle enough to make the contents slosh. "And that is why you should not be a rat because rats have naked tails, and you would look funny with a naked tail." He laughed far more loudly than a species that used the same part of the anatomy for the production of sound and the eating of food should be able to.

"Why are you drinking?"

"Why wouldn't I drink?"

"Because you never have before," Regi said.

"That you know of," Dante said in triumph before he descended into mad giggles.

Regi waited. Dante had too much facility with manipulating the translator, so getting information out of him was like tying a bow on a freio.

After many long moments of silence, Dante said, "Vk is good with numbers."

"Is she?" Regi would compliment Vk on her interrogation technique, on her ability to de-escalate conflicts, on her encyclopedic memory of various species, and her calm under pressure. However, he had never known her to be good with numbers. That was more Ter and his crew.

"Yep." Dante raised one finger into the air and pointed at the ceiling in a gesture Regi had no hope of interpreting.

"What numbers does she show skill in manipulating?"

"Did you know that our day on Earth and your day on this world are about the same length?"

"Are they?" Many inhabited planets had similar orbits and similar sizes, leading to similar planetary rotation and length of day because the viable zone in a solar system was narrow. Most solar systems had no planets at all—only uninhabitable planetoids that were too small and close to the sun or too large, cold and distant from it.

"Yes," Dante said, the word exploding out of him. "When I first got grabbed, I couldn't sleep on the ship. There was no sense of day or night or morning or sunrises or... What was I saying?" He blinked in confusion.

"Vk and her numbers."

Dante looked startled. "Oh yeah. I struggled with sleep cycles. But since I've been here, I can sleep through the night for the first time in forever."

Living in captivity was, no doubt, inimical to a healthy sleep schedule. "I don't understand what this has to do with Vk and numbers," Regi said.

Dante sat up fast and then clung to the edge of his mattress with both hands. "I don't feel good."

Regi tensed. "Do you need to go to the doctor?"

"No, but I should not be vertical." Dante swung his body around in the opposite direction and then dropped back down so his head was in Regi's lap.

Regi froze, horror keeping him immobile when decency mandated that he flee. To make matters worse, Dante started stroking Regi's arm. Those long, delicate fingers tickled Regi's skin for a time before he stopped, and his single thumb traced circles that sent shivers through Regi.

"So, Vk and her numbers," Dante said, oblivious about the effect he was having. "I asked Vk to take the numbers that I know. There are thirty and a half days in a month and there are twelve months in a year, and I asked her to look at the ship's data and tell me how long I had been on the ship if we assume a Kowri day and an Earth day are close enough for government work."

"‘Government work'?" Regi scrambled for anything to distract himself from Dante's warm touch against his body.

"Government work," Dante said again, but this time the syllables were so slurred that the translator could not interpret them properly. Regi could only tell what he had said because the mouth sounds mimicked the ones Dante had just pronounced.

"I have been on that ship for nineteen months," Dante said in a tiny voice.

Regi winced. That was a significant period of time. "I am sorry you have suffered so much. I wish Divashi could have led us to you sooner." The goddess had helped Regi find the pirate ship, but she had not done so until the other huuman slaves had self-killed and Dante had suffered far too much.

Dante shook his head once and then grabbed Regi's arm with both hands and breathed for several minutes. "Don't say that. If you had come earlier, it might not have worked out. Maybe the pirates would've come back sooner and your whole crew would have died and I would be in space until I couldn't do it anymore and I asked Peaches to stab me. Do you think Peaches would've stabbed me if I'd asked her to?" Dante looked at the fat dop currently licking her own belly.

Given that dops carried out the will of the goddess Divashi and the goddess favored Dante, Regi expected she would have if death had been the last escape. He was endowed with infinite gratitude that the Lady had found another way to save all of them, even if it meant their original Coalition ship had gotten sucked into a black hole.

"So anyway," Dante said, "nineteen months. I had my twenty-first birthday, and I can now legally drink. Getting drunk on your twenty-first birthday is a rite of passage."

That explained the situation. Dante might not indulge in mind-altering substances normally, but few individuals eschewed their species' rites of passage. It was reasonable for Dante to hold to his people's rituals.

"Is there any way I can assist in this rite?" Regi asked. He understood this was the final boundary between growth years and adult years, and he mourned that the moment had passed on a slave ship with no one to mark such a momentous occasion.

Dante's chest spasmed and his breathing made an odd cut-off sound that terrified Regi for the half second it took Dante to start speaking. "I think I'm a bad person."

"You most certainly are not." Dante had stood beside Regi in a radiation-soaked section of the ship and when they'd been tracked by Gavd monotheists. He had defended Regi's religion to the Coalition crew and risked his life against their enemies. He was unequivocally good.

"I am bad, bad, very bad. Do you know what I miss most about home? Do you? Marengo!"

"‘Marengo'?" Regi did not know this word.

"My horse," Dante said. Then his chest spasmed again, although he appeared unconcerned about the interruption in his breathing.

Regi knew horses were like pebafri, only without the horns or the ability to digest meat. "Given your fondness for four-legged creatures, I am unsurprised."

"But I should miss my family most. Sure, my dad is a complete dick. He's probably making hay out of my disappearance the way he did out of my mother's murder. He'll get a whole new election cycle of commercials out of it." His voice grew strange as it took on a lower tone that did not match his normal voice. "‘Look at how far crime has reached into rural Texas. We must stop illegal immigration. We must hate all outsiders'." The way Dante waved his arms about and changed his pitch suggested he was mocking such positions, but it was disturbing that he would even assign those beliefs to his father.

"That would be offensive." In truth, Regi was more offended by the idea of a leader capitalizing on the disappearance of a child than he was at the rampant xenophobia. After all, his own people had a long and storied history of killing outsiders.

"Offensive. Yep, that is my father to a T. Offensive. But you know who is not offensive? Mary is not offensive. She is my decent sister. My other sister, Emily, she's not offensive either, but she's offended. She's nice enough to be offended quietly and out of sight. She never says anything shitty to my face." Dante nodded. "She's always polite enough to talk crap behind my back where I don't have to see it. But Mary. Mary. Mary is a good person. I should miss Mary more."

"I am grateful you had someone to support you in your youth." Regi was unsure of this territory. He never had siblings. He'd begged his parents for a sibling for five harvest-season festivals in a row as a child, but they had never wanted another. Sometimes Regi wondered if his fathers regretted investing so much of their lives with a wife who chose her goddess over any of them.

"Support me." Dante poked Regi in the stomach. "That is my point. Mary always supported me. She even had me as a bridesman in her wedding. I should miss her more than my horse, and I am a horrible human being for missing Marengo more."

Since Regi had no concept of the relationships huumans should have with siblings or domesticated animals, he could provide no advice on the specifics. However, he caught Dante's hand in his and held it until Dante tilted his head back to look Regi in the eyes. "You are a good person," Regi said.

Dante's eyes grew watery and then he closed them. Regi struggled to find some other words of comfort, but he knew so little of Earth that he had none. Instead, he held Dante as his breathing grew ragged and irregular.

After a time, it smoothed out into the cadence of sleep. He held Dante, watching over him to ensure the intoxicants did not cause him to stop breathing. That was his reason for sitting with Dante's head in his lap, and Regi would maintain that under torture and interrogation. Now he had to believe it himself.

.