Page 21 of Seven Oars
“That,” Fawn admitted,“was totally pirated. I dated a guy once whose sister worked for that records company. It was his birthday present to me.”
“Stolen goods! Some present.” Anske crossed her arms.“We’re not listening to any of this.”
“Then cover your ears,‘cause we’re jamming.” Fawn turned it on.
The sound was weak and tinny. Everyone quieted, listening.
The first track was by a popular female singer, still trending on Meeus.
“Oh my god, I love her!” Sassa squealed and clapped her hands.
The lyrics were a bit racy, but the vocals were more than passable, and the beat was lively.
The first genuine smile tugged at Rosamma’s mouth, rusty after so many days, weeks of worrying. Smiles bloomed all around her.
“Outrageous,” Anske grumbled, but even she was defrosting.
The song was so familiar, so nostalgic. It suddenly felt like they’d only left Meeus for a short trip and would soon come home.
Home.
How Rosamma longed to go back! Oh, if she ever returned, she’d… The first thing she’d do…
What would she do? What was waiting for her at home?
She thought back to her cozy room in the apartment, the many quiet nights she had spent under mellow lamplight, reading and waiting for her brother to come home.
It hadn’t been a bad life, not for someone as afflicted as she was.
Against her will, her gaze strayed to the deck and Phex, for the briefest of moments.
Fawn started singing along, and soon the others joined in. Rosamma did too, mixing up lyrics and making them up as she went.
They laughed and swayed, and laughed harder because microgravity made dancing a ridiculous affair.
Through the open hatch, they could see the Rix, and the Rix could see them. Riel was at the controls. Phex, indifferent, turned away.
And she knew: it may have been Riel who returned Fawn’s music player, but it had to be Phex who authorized it. Nothing on this cruiser happened without his approval.
He wasn’t the unemotional, pre-programmed robot everyone believed him to be.
A warm feeling spread through Rosamma as she took in his form in his shimmering dark-blue suit, tightly woven from tiny links of unknown material, like beautiful alien chainmail. They all wore the uniform, but it looked especially dashing on Phex. He was so exotically beautiful.
Fawn and Sassa linked hands and spun in a wild circle. Over the singing, Gro and Eze swapped witty insults about each other’s taste in music. Cold, aloof Alyesha was grinning. And young, weird Daphne looked on at the frolicking with her owlish, unblinking eyes.
Amid the exuberance and uncoordinated swaying of bodies, the singing and the laughter, a slight jolt of the cruiser went almost unnoticed. Barely a jolt, even. More like a sensation—something that shouldn’t be there.
Before Rosamma could fully register it, Riel shouted, and then the sirens blared, drowning out everything else. The screens on deck lit up in a kaleidoscope of warnings. Strobe lights around the interior flashed spasmodically.
The Rix sprang into action, tearing into their supplies, extracting hand weapons.
“What is it? What’s happening?” the women kept asking one another.
Fawn’s music player was still on, bleating out another popular melody beneath the abrasive wail of the sirens.
“You’re the spokeswoman. Ask them!” Alyesha shouted at Rosamma.
Rosamma could only stare, stunned into stupidity by the sudden shift, the noise, and the sick feeling of doom.
