Page 98 of Lorran
“Listen, where are you and is there a place we can meet? I’ve got a list of all the ports when the ship will be docked for a few days. We can explore.”
“That sounds amazing. I’m sure it can be arranged.”
“You’re not a prisoner. You can take day trips,” Sonia said tartly.
Wyn didn’t know if that was entirely true—the day trip part, not the prison part. She was not a prisoner. Lorran had mentioned visiting his family on Sangrin, so shore leave was a thing.
Sonia transmitted a list of ports of calls and dates. It took a few minutes to arrive, but as Wyn reviewed the list, she felt confident that they could meet up. “This is going to be so great,” she said. “We can check out the art galleries and museums on Sangrin. I’m super curious about media. Like is paint the same? Just paint on canvas?”
“Way to trivialize our craft. Just paint on canvas.”
Wyn rolled her eyes. “Well, do you have any idea what traditional Sangrin art is like? Three-dimensional shifting sculptures? Maybe an olfactory experience?”
“They have scripted dramas, just like Earth. Paintings are probably paintings, but I’m curious—”
“Right? Lorran watches this drama, and it’s a total soap opera with cyborgs and time travel and doctors and nurses. It’s a trip.”
“No. I’m curious about the man standing behind you with a gun,” Sonia said.
Chapter 20
Wyn
Wyn spun on her heels.
Caldar stood close enough to smell the unwashed sweat on him.
That asshole. Of course.
The last dredges of her own chill evaporated. She had zero fucks left to give.
He pointed a pistol at her. She noticed it was the same make and model that Saavi wrestled from her on Etes 3 and wondered if it was the same gun.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” she said, tossing her hands in the air. “This is the exact bullshit I was talking about,” she said to Sonia on the screen. “No chill.”
“Female, you will come quietly—”
“Yeah, yeah.” Wyn felt exhausted down to her bones. She hadn’t been so tired since working as a cashier over the holidays while in school. Her feet and hands just felt heavy, like she didn’t have the strength to lift them, let alone do a five-hour shift. “A gun? Really? You want to punch a hole in the wall and cause a decompression accident?”
“Who is this guy? What’s going on? Wyn!” Sonia shouted from the screen. Both Wyn and Caldar ignored her.
“This is an internal room. The worst that happens is we inconvenience your neighbor,” he answered.
“I don’t suppose it’s worth asking how you got out of the brig?” Wyn asked.
“It’s really not that interesting. Security systems are never as good as management likes the civilians to think, especially in medical facilities. Now, a Trexor holding cell, that’s a challenge. Hello, pretty female,” he said, finally noticing Sonia on the screen.
Half a galaxy away, Sonia backed up from the screen. “Who the fuck are you? If you hurt Wyn, I’ll tear your balls off and make decorative earrings out of them.”
He grinned, teeth sharp and white against his plum complexion. “They would look very fetching on you, pretty female.”
“Gross,” Sonia said.
“Hey. Hey!” Wyn grabbed the nearest thing at hand, a half-empty coffee cup, and flung it at him. He neatly stepped back, cold coffee splashing across his shoes. “Don’t you talk to her. Sonia, I’ll call you back after I take care of this asshole.”
“Wait, don’t—”
Wyn disconnected the call.
