Oby jumped down from the stage and proceeded to bite tiny holes in the open box flaps with his sharp little teeth. Crystals rolled around in the bottom of the box, which was filled with drawings and sketches on loose-leaf paper, and more than a few candy wrappers.

“Oby, stop that,” he gently admonished, pulling the tabby away and dropping kisses on his head. “Go eat your chicken nums.” I followed his gaze as he looked around. No one else was in earshot.

“My offer still stands,” he said quietly. “My whole family’s on Gaia, and I want to get to them in one piece. I want everyone to get to their families on Gaia in one piece. I’m sure you want to get there safely too, right?”

“Obviously,” I bit off, a little too forceful.

“I tell you what. I’ll take this down to the engine room, and we can talk in the morning. Why don’t you go get some rest?”

His face was impassive, no trace of kindness to match the kind-ish words. Smiles all the time, my ass.

“Sounds good.” This day couldn’t end soon enough for me, anyway.

He nodded and hefted the box into his arms. “‘Night,” he said. “Come on, Oby! Time to make do-do!” He went off toward the elevator, humming, his cat trotting behind.

Fais do-do. I smiled, and a twinge of homesickness skipped through my chest. My grandma used to use that old Cajun term for going to sleep. It was time for me to make do-do, too.

CHAPTER FIVE

My first night in my old bed in the ancient space hotel was full of tosses, turnings, and bizarre dreams on the edge of nightmares, punctuated by twice waking up in a panic in the dark. A light dawned through the transom above my suite door against a duet of synthesized birdsong, disorienting me. But at least the night was over. If only the chirping wasn’t exacerbating the wicked headache I’d spent all night cultivating. Relieving headaches was the one thing I missed about my magic.

I stumbled into the shower, and in under thirty minutes, I flawlessly straightened my hair, did my makeup, and dressed in an ironed silk tank dress.

After a quick breakfast in the kitchen, I walked toward the engine room, watching the soft rows of ruffles at the knee line of my skirt kick out at each step. Food hadn’t helped my headache at all. I didn’t know why my first couple of days in space always brought on this much pain, but as a consolation, it was something I could always rely on.

I pushed my hand against the engine room door, and I could already hear Beck singing soulfully along with music playing inside.

“‘—my future in your eyes; I thought you were just a dream.’”

Was that Dream Girl by R&B legend Maasai Malone? Beck had a nice voice. At least it was better than talking to him, and at least his singing made him easy to find. Downstairs, just past the “shield generator,” he stood with his back to me in a workspace area, chucking bits of machinery into wooden crates already partially filled with cords, tools, bits of metal, and dials. A turntable and a battered pair of speakers sat near him on a worktable, and not far behind him, a hammock with a blanket hung above a cozy rug tossed with pillows and anchored with books.

“‘Then you walked into my life!’”

He turned and startled at seeing me, eyes wide and hand over his heart. “Jeez, you scared me half to death!” No smile accompanied his laugh. “I didn’t hear you come in. I thought I’d get an early start and pull all the extra tech together for an inventory, like we talked about last night. How’s this for a perfect spot to gather everything?” With bits of spaceship in either hand, he held his arms out to show a run of mismatched wooden shelves against the wall that hadn’t been there yesterday.

“Did you just build those?”

He shrugged and tossed the items in his hands into two different crates, then wiped his hands on his jeans. “I was too wound up to sleep last night.”

“Looks good,” I allowed. I surveyed the broken bits and baubles on the shelves, most of which didn’t originate on a spaceship. A stark contrast to the stockroom at Noble Industries with its embarrassment of spare parts. Given an hour and a shopping cart, I could’ve found not only replacements and patches for every missing and broken item on the ship, but I could’ve even brought everything up to code.

“If you want to keep working on that,” I said, forcing my thoughts back to the tasks at hand, “I thought I’d start organizing the spell box and inventorying the ship’s systems. See which are working properly and which are being held together with washi tape and happy thoughts.”

“She’s coming out of the gate strong this morning,” he said, almost an actual smile playing about his lips as he polished a lawn mower transmission with a dirty scrap of old T-shirt.

I shook my head and rubbed the back of my neck. “I just have a headache. Happens every time I go into space. It’ll wear off in a day or so.”

His eyebrows lowered. “Go see Zola. She’ll fix you right up.”

I scoffed, thinking of the energy healing from last night. “No thanks. I’m not dancing naked around a ring of candles or sleeping with a sprig of chamomile under my pillow.”

“I’d have to check with Eyre, but I think you’d want lavender, not chamomile.” He raised his eyebrows. “Zola’s a doctor, remember? She’s got ibuprofen or whatever you need.”

My cheeks flushed. “You’re right. Thanks.”

He pointed right. “I put the spell box over on the drafting table, just on the other side of the wastewater system.”

I started to walk off to berate myself in private for my awkwardness, but I turned around, remembering I had a question. “What’s with the birds and the artificial sunshine in the hallways?”