Page 70 of Skinwalker's Bane
“No. There has been enough of that lately,” Adam said shortly. “Anyone using Bellish…they’re not using it because they want to anymore. Only the first dose was voluntary. Right, Peter? It’s that addictive?”
“It is,” Peter said. “The rush of dopamine is overwhelming.” He glanced around. “Can I use your terminal?” he asked Devin.
She nodded. “I still don’t know where you’re going,” she told Adam.
“To talk to Corin Ruska.”
“Your other housemate? Why?”
“He’s the one who offered it to me, the night of Lincoln’s memorial gathering. He’s the only one alive who can lead us to the next person in the chain.” Adam gave her arm a little squeeze. “Sorry about this. I know it’s my off-rotation, but things have just been happening today…”
She shook her head. “Of course you should go,” she told him. “And I think that I may have to talk to a few people, too. I don’t think it’s just skinwalkers being affected.”
“That’s fear talking, for now,” Adam said. “Wait for a while. See what we learn. If you can talk to the Captain when you have some plasteel evidence…that is who you were thinking of, wasn’t it?”
“Well, I was going to start with Magorian,” Devin admitted.
Adam gave her a small smile and she wished he would kiss her instead. He wouldn’t do that in front of Peter, though. “The whole day has been one of upset. Let’s spend some of the night dealing with the last of it.”
Devin shivered, as cold fingers walked up her spine. She had a feeling this was not the last of it at all.
Chapter Eighteen
Haydn wouldn’t hear of Adam leaving the Table. “You’re short on sleep at the very least. Off-rotations are for recovery and you’ve already spent a day doing anything but recover. You’ll stay right where you are,” he told Adam. “I’ll go. Peter, I’ll meet you at the Beehive in thirty minutes, yes?”
Peter nodded. He didn’t look any happier now that Haydn knew it all. Peter wasn’t a man who would think he was clear of something just because he had passed it on to supervisors. He would feel responsible for the rest of his life.
When Peter had left, Adam turned to her. “During lulls, the best thing a man can do is eat, especially if he doesn’t know when he’s next able to.”
“Lulls in what?”
“In anything that rolls right over your life. Like now, with this Bellish thing and Haydn and my suit…life is smacking me around at the moment.” He took her in his arms and pressed his lips to her forehead. “At least tell me your day was fine.”
“It was better than fine,” Devin assured him. “Come into the kitchen. I’ll tell you about it while we get the meal.”
They sat at the table, waiting for the printer to finish, as Devin walked Adam through her wonderful day.
“Then I have to show up and suddenly everything goes dark and dreadful,” Adam added. “If I were a superstitious man I’d say that was portentous.”
“I’m not superstitious either,” Devin told him. “It’s just the way life runs sometimes. You get a group of negative things happening all at the same time.”
“That’s almost cheerful, coming from you,” he teased. “You always pick out the downside in anything.”
“That’s what strategists do,” she told him. “We anticipate. It’s not being negative.” She shook her head. “I had a great day. You didn’t. It doesn’t mean I think I should avoid you and your bad luck.”
He met her gaze. “Still think the complications are worthwhile?” he asked softly.
“More than ever. Life is certainly interesting around you. I’m learning so much about the ‘other’ side of the ship. It’s giving me a lot to think about.”
“I’m glad someone is getting something out of it,” Adam muttered and ate his stew.
They had nearly finished eating when the house AI alerted them that Peter was trying to reach them live. Devin asked it to build a screen over the table, right between the two of them, with an inverted image on the back, so that what Adam was watching was not reversed.
Haydn stood in the background of the screen. “I wanted you to see this go down,” Haydn said. “It’s too late to get you here in person, so just sit tight. Peter, train the lens to stay on us.”
“Done,” Peter said stepping away from the terminal.
Corin Ruska was sitting at the little counter in the main room of their apartment. He looked unhappy. His crew was on dayshift and it looked as though Peter and Haydn had woken him from a very sound sleep. His short hair was spiked in odd directions and his eyes were bleary.
