“I need a drink. You want something?”
“Water,” I respond.
The ration of water and food we get as ‘bottom-feeders’ on this voyage leaves my mouth dry and my belly grumbling, and if she’s paying, I’ll gladly take the hydration.
Tessa nods, and pulls herself up from the seat. She fishes in her oversized pants for a handful of coins, and then limps across to the bar.
The bartender blinks, waking himself up as he finally finds himself confronted by a paying customer. This far into the voyage, those ‘bottom feeders’ with a thirst have mostly exhausted what meager drinking money they brought with them; so there’s not much for him to do.
With a huge yawn, the bartender pours Tessa a generous finger of a brown liquid in a plastic cup. Then, he reaches under the bar for a package of water – freshly re-sealed from the recycling plant in Elnor’s sub-structure.
I don’t care that I’m drinking purified, recycled dishwater, shower runoff, and even pee. That’s the reality of low-budget spaceflight. Even lukewarm, this water will taste like heaven to my parched throat.
“Bring the empties back,” the bartender grunts at Tessa – as if he’s reading from a script.
Tessa returns to the table and sits back down, wincing as her leg gives her trouble.
She passes me the package of water. I tear it open and take a first sip, allowing myself only enough to wet my mouth. Water is included in the ticket, but each passenger is given a daily ration; and this package of recycled water represents more than half of it.
Across from me, Tessa downs the amber fire she’d ordered in a single swallow – screwing up her face and wiping her lips as the burning liquid reaches her stomach.
Steeled by the drink, the young woman finally finds her voice.
“I’d been walking down the hallway when my leg cramped up. I had to stop to rub it – and when I looked down, that’s whenhegrabbed me.”
Tessa shudders as she remembers what happened.
“He had one hand on my arm and one over my mouth – so I couldn’t scream for help.” Her eyes glisten. “Fuck – there are men like thatlivingin these walls?”
Tessa looks up at me.
“Did you hear about the passenger who disappeared a month ago? The security staff said she’d probably left through an airlock – cabin fever, they told me.”
Cabin fever, or space madness.
It was rare, but sometimes a passenger on a long-haul flight would peer out into the twinkling eternity of space, and the void would call to them.
But that wasn’t what had happened to that woman – after the experience Tessa and I had just endured, that much was obvious.
“She could be on the other side of those walls right now,” Tessa shudders.
I don’t let that thought enter my mind.
If she is, then there’s nothing we can do to help her now. Not after a month. Nobody who goes missing on a long-haul space flight for a month is ever found safe or well at the end of it.
Besides, it’s no longer my job to defend women like that. I’m no longer the one tasked with saving them anymore. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.
It’s a useless thought in my mind. Worse, it’s a dangerous thought. Just look how I’d frozen when that rapist had grabbed me.
The ‘old me’ was gone – killed the same day Ling had died.
Now, I’d just get myself killed if I tried to help.
Tessa’s light brown eyes meet mine again.
“Thank you again, Jamie. If you hadn’t heard me…” She shudders. “Gods.”
I stare past her. I can’t accept her thanks. Our recent encounter made that much clear.