Chapter 11

Denna's tiny receiving room was claustrophobic at best, which Remma knew was the point. The rest of the rooms in Denna's suite were of a normal size, even spacious, but he'd deliberately picked this erstwhile storage room and rearranged some doors to use it as his office. It was about intimidation and making people uncomfortable: Denna's favorite pastimes.

Remma sort of hated him. More than sort of. It was past time to get off this ship.

He didn't usually get this treatment from Denna. More often they met in Denna's sitting room. But Denna stayed seated behind his desk and made no moves to open the door behind him. The message was clear: Remma had gotten on Denna's bad side somehow, and he could easily guess what he'd done.

"Well, spit it out," Denna said without looking up from the tablet on his desk.

Remma managed not to heave a sigh. "The job went well, eh? The cloaking device worked. How was the haul from the merchantman?"

Denna looked up at him finally, his eyes narrowed. "You'll get your cut, if that's what you're asking."

"My cut is guaranteed by my contract. If I wanted to ask about that, I'd ask."

"So you're just making small talk? Don't waste my time, Remma."

He was in a bad mood—this was a bad time. But it would be worse to try again later, because then he really would be wasting Denna's time. Remma squared his shoulders. "I wanted to ask about your timeline for heading back to Mirolasor system."

"Ah, yes. Your little human's moon." Denna leaned back in his chair, smirking. A bad sign. "I do want that tesseract core, but if you couldn't find it after a year, I doubt we have much hope of retrieving it. And I don't really believe you that the human's people will pay a decent ransom for him. He seems so… useless."

"And yet you've kept him alive this long, so you must think he has some value."

Denna shrugged. "I've been busy with other things. He doesn't eat much, and we have plenty of room. It's never a bad idea to keep a potential bargaining chip on hand. Worst case, we can sell him for organs."

The thought of turning Sol over to a wholesaler made Remma sick to his stomach. "We don't do that sort of business."

"We haven't historically done that sort of business," Denna said. "But it's lucrative. No reason not to get into it if we've got the opportunity."

It was immoral, and also illegal, but so was most of what they did, so that argument wouldn't hold any water. Remma ground his teeth. He couldn't think of anything to say.

Denna laughed at him, an obnoxious bray. "Look at your face! Don't worry, I won't sell him off for his kidneys. Yet. I'm very interested in why this boy matters to you so much, Remma, and I have a feeling I can guess. You're not a very complicated person, are you."

"Is there something wrong with that?"

"Not at all. It makes my job easier when my underlings are so transparent. The human is important to you, enough so that you would do anything to keep him safe." Denna's eyelids lowered, giving him a smug, satisfied look. "Except lie to me about his mother's wealth. You would never do that."

Remma managed not to squirm. He should have known better than to try to manipulate Denna, who had been manipulating people since before Remma was born. "I know better than to lie to you."

"You're a smart boy," Denna said, obnoxiously: Remma was well into adulthood by Tozren standards. "I know you'd never do anything to damage my trust in you."

"Then let's go back to Mirolasor," Remma said, "and deliver Sol to his people."

Denna grunted. "I'll think about it. Was that all?"

Remma hated to be so summarily dismissed, but he knew from experience that digging in his heels wouldn't get him anywhere. "That was all. Thanks for your time."

* * *

Hello, human, the ship said brightly.

Hello, ship, Sol replied. How are you today?

A little bored, honestly. There isn't much going on.

Are we still docked at the orbital? Sol asked. I didn't think it would take them so long to offload what they stole from the freighter.

I'm not sure what they're doing. Drinking and gambling, I think, based on what they're talking about when they come back on board.

Sol rolled his eyes. He couldn't say he was shocked. Taking their shore leave, I guess. Is this what they usually do?

It seems to be. They like to park somewhere for a few days after most of their jobs. I don't mind, I suppose, but it gets to be boring after a while. The other ships aren't very interesting to talk to.

No surprise there, since they were all run by AIs rather than being sentient minds. Sol still wasn't sure how much self-awareness the ship had about its situation, and he was afraid to ask and spark some type of identity crisis. I'm sorry you're bored, he thought. I can relate.

Do you know how long they're going to keep you there?

No idea. I don't know what they're going to do to me. Shove me out an airlock, probably.

I won't let that happen, the ship said loyally. I can stop them, you know. I don't usually interfere, because it isn't my job, but I'm not going to let them kill my only friend.

I appreciate that, Sol thought with a victorious thrill he tried hard to tamp down in the back of his mind. It was working. I don't particularly want to die.

Nobody does. I wouldn't. They have no reason to kill you. It's not like you've done anything dangerous or harmed any of them. It would just be petty.

So if they had a good reason, you would let them go ahead and murder me? Sol asked, amused.

Well, probably. If you were mean, or a bad person, I wouldn't feel the need to stop them.

The ship had an interesting morality. It was childlike in the simplicity of its thinking at times, and other times astounded Sol with how much it understood and how deeply it thought about things. It was a young ship, it had told him, and he could tell that it was still learning and growing, which was a strange thing to think about.

What would it be like in ten years? In twenty? Formidable, if it ever broke away from the pirates. For now it seemed unwilling to go against them, or at least willing to go along with what they wanted. Those weren't necessarily the same thing. But in time, as it grew up and gained confidence, he couldn't imagine it would be quite so biddable.

Can I ask you something? he thought.

Of course. I can't promise I'll be able to answer.

Do you know where the pirates are headed next?

Let me see if I can find out. A pause, long enough for Sol to start feeling antsy, and then the ship said, I'm not sure. I don't think they've decided.

Sol ground his teeth. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. He wondered if Remma had talked to his boss yet, or if he was still dragging his feet about it. Or maybe he had talked to Denna and it hadn't worked. That would be even worse.

Fuck. What was he going to do?

He couldn't rely on Remma to save him. He would have to save himself, somehow, from within the confines of this room.

Are you hoping they'll take you back to your own system? the ship asked.

Sol thought fast. He had done everything he could to forge a friendship with the ship, but he had no insight into the ship's feelings on the subject. He didn't know where its true loyalties lay. If he asked for help now, he could easily be signing his own death warrant. But if he didn't take the risk, the pirates might decide to kill him anyway.

He took a deep, steadying breath. I hope they'll send me home. I miss my mom, and my best friend, and all the other people I know.

That sounds hard, the ship said. I bet they're missing you, too.

They probably think I'm dead, at this point. Sol didn't have to feign the lump in his throat, the wobble in his thoughts. I hope they're all doing okay.

Is there anything I can do to help?

There it was. Sol's heart rate picked up. I don't know. Maybe you could send a message to them? Is that possible?

Well, probably. Do you know your mother's comms code?

By heart, Sol thought, thanking every star in the sky that he'd bothered to memorize it. Do you think—could you send a message without the pirates knowing? They probably wouldn't be too happy about me trying to communicate.

Oh, they won't have any idea, the ship replied. They'd be mad at me, too, so I won't risk it. I can use the orbital's systems to send the message. It won't even show up in the on-board records.

Okay. Great. Should we send it now?

I'm ready whenever you are.

Sol had thought about this a lot, and he knew just what he wanted to say. He didn't want to assume that the message wouldn't be intercepted, but he still wanted to make it clear what the situation was, and so he would have to be careful with his phrasing. Hi, Loden, he began. It's Sol. I'm unhurt but I've been captured by pirates. They may try to ransom me back to you since our colony is so wealthy and important. If you don't think I'm worth the cash, you could try finding a tesseract signal. I think they would be very happy to trade me for a core they've been looking for. Remma had told him, finally, what the pirates were after.

There. That should give her enough information to prepare her for what the pirates would expect, while also giving her some hope of getting him back. Assuming she would rather have him than a tesseract core, which wasn't a given.

No, that was ridiculous. Of course Loden would want him back. He was her son.

That's all, he said to the ship.

All right. A moment's pause. Now give me her comms code.

MiroM-LS-4319XP34, Sol said, hoping he hadn't transposed any of the numbers. He was pretty sure he hadn't.

It's sent, the ship reported.

Thank you. You've been so helpful. I really appreciate having a friend like you.

He was laying it on a little thick, but the ship only sounded pleased and flattered when it said, I'm always happy to help you.

* * *

"Tellme how you ended up with the pirates," Sol said.

Remma stirred from his postcoital stupor. "Hmm?"

"Is that a complicated question? You're still come-dumb." Sol sounded pleased with himself. "Why'd you leave Tozra? How'd you end up on this ship?"

"You ask a lot of questions," Remma said, even though he didn't really mind an excuse to linger in Sol's bed and talk with him a while. He was getting really attached, more and more with every day that went by, and that was a problem. Humans kept to themselves; they liked to pair bond and raise children together, which wasn't ever an option for Tozren males. Remma was going to break his own heart.

Well, so be it.

"I'm curious," Sol said. "Indulge me. You know my whole boring life story, but there's still so much I don't know about you."

Remma definitely liked the idea that Sol wanted to know more about him. He slid one hand down Sol's sweat-damp back. "I was young. I wanted to see the galaxy. You know—the usual."

"You got tired of Tozra?"

"We don't have cities like on some planets. The population isn't that big. Everyone lives in towns and villages, and my own town started feeling stifling to me after a while. I would watch vids from other places and daydream about having adventures."

"Little Remma," Sol said.

Remma snorted. "Not that little. I was about your age—the Tozren equivalent of your age. Just less settled in myself, I think, than you are. I wasn't content with what Tozra had to offer me."

"So you decided to become a pirate?"

"Not quite. I went to work on our system's only orbital for a while, just as a mechanic. A man I worked with had a cousin on Denna's ship, and he said they might have work for me. I didn't ask enough questions, I guess. I assumed it was a freighter or a merchantman, and when Denna interviewed me he didn't say anything that made me think otherwise."

Sol laughed. "You became a pirate by accident?"

"Basically," Remma admitted. "It didn't take me long to figure it out once I was on board, but I convinced myself it wasn't that bad. We weren't hurting people, after all, just—you know. Taking their things."

"Poor naive Remma," Sol said. "Bumbling into a life of crime."

"You were right, you know," Remma said. "Scavenging isn't the same. What we do here, on this ship—it's worse. I wish I'd had more backbone back then, and told Denna to let me off at the next station. Instead I just got used to it."

"I think it's normal to adapt to whatever circumstances you find yourself in. Most people would, I bet."

"It's okay to tell me that I lack moral clarity," Remma said. "I would agree."

"You're leaving now," Sol said. "So you got there in the end."

"The time in your colony changed me. I had forgotten there were more options in life than just brainlessly doing whatever Denna told me. It was good for me to learn about a different way of living. I'm ready to feel like a person again instead of just a minion."

Sol's hand on Remma's hip squeezed gently. "You can be a person. You can do anything you want."

"We'll see," Remma said, knowing there was only one thing that he wanted.