Page 73 of Seven Oars
They comforted Eze until she fell back into a fitful sleep.
After eating a small meal, Anske read passages from her Holy Guide and sang hymns. No one actively participated, but they listened, yearning for the small comfort it provided.
The space station quieted down and stayed quiet, with only the never-stoppingoarsgrinding and straining, invisible, supporting life. The jerking light cast the Cargo Hold in shifting shades of gray. Such was their home now, this unattractive, unidentifiable place.
Time moved slowly, yet there was an undercurrent of urgency, as if there wasn’t enough of it.
The women weren’t locked up in a cage, but they were worse than prisoners.
They were toys.
Suddenly, Phex walked into the Cargo Hold.
He came in limping. Blood had spilled on his shimmering defender shirt, its Rix bluish color perfectly matching the material in tone and somehow also shimmering, as if alive.
The women froze, watching him warily.
Instead of going to his usual spot, Phex singled out Rosamma and slowly lowered himself beside her. His obsidian Rix eyes stared at her from a foot away. She saw that he had pupils, also black, but different in texture from his irises. They were vertical and elongated, three in each eye. All of them—all six—were focused on her face.
He startled her when he touched the side of her head, and she flinched. He withdrew his hand slowly as Rosamma cast her eyes down.
“He didn’t hit you very hard.”
Phex meant the Striker.
Rosamma gingerly fingered the aching place where the blow had landed.“I’m afraid I disagree.”
She felt unsettled by her instinctive recoil. He wasn’t a lecher.
A humorless smile curved one side of his mouth.“I’m speaking from personal experience.”
“You stayed out there for so long?” Rosamma framed the sentence like a question.
He turned his head away.“I crashed when the charm spice wore off.”
No emotion colored his voice, but Rosamma wasn’t fooled. He was affected by what he’d done.It went deep.It would scar.
“They kicked me around,” he continued,“but it wasn’t fun without any fight back. So I was left alone.”
“In the Habitat?”
“Yes. Passed out. When I woke up, I listened to them talk.”
“What did they talk about?”
“There was a pressure leak at the station. They waited for Thilza to patch it up.”
“Which one of them is Thilza, again?” Rosamma asked.
“The druggie. He’s their mechanic.” Phex shook his head at the idea.
“Did he fix it?”
“Yes. He had to reassemble the system, patch it up, and top off the refrigerant. It steamed up half the station.”
So it had been steam, not smoke… She hadn’t imagined it on the Bridge.She hadn’t imagined anything.
“I’m glad he fixed it,” she said.
