Chapter Five
KIRA
Hitting up the med-bay first, Kira was immensely grateful that Bree, their ships doctor, was an organized little critter. She also liked labels. “Bless her,” she said as she opened the medicine cabinet.
Most of the prefabricated meds that were prepared as time savers, analgesics and nausea medications. Both fixed two of their main problems: people getting hurt, and newcomers not used to space travel chucking their cookies.
Grabbing a labeled vial, she popped a pill in her mouth, swallowing it without a chaser. Praetorians lacked a gag reflex because of their primary diets, once upon a time, requiring some rather unsavory things. Their anatomy differed from humans regarding their trachea and esophagus being completely separate, so they couldn’t suffocate from choking unless someone jammed it down their nose.
Easing back onto the counter, she grabbed the unobstructive scooter Watson had insisted she bring back with her to the Callistar.
I told you. You should have grabbed those last night.
“Just because you kept me from making a fool of myself earlier doesn’t mean you get to chastise me now, too.”
Where would I be without my ‘I told you so?’ His voice was generally bland, but he could push emotion into it and he was clearly amused. It was like how one knew someone was smiling on the phone.
“Still-” Kira stopped herself before she could finish the sentence. Telling Watson that he’d still be in the system was an absolutely no go situation. He couldn’t help it.
Still here, I know, I’m still grateful to be anywhere.
“I couldn’t just let you go.” Kira looked up at the ceiling, blinking away emotion.
You’ll never have to.
“Heh.” Kira pushed off. The pill already kicked in, and her stomach growled. “I think I’ll take our guest some lunch.”
The Eikos can send over a tray, as was arranged.He went back to being emotionless.
“Yes, but where’s the hospitality in that?” Kira chuckled, wheeling her way out to the kitchen.
All the doors she’d tried allowed her access, even where Quinn worked, despite the fun little signs she passed everywhere, so it wasn’t necessary to take the access panels. Rolling through and munching on an apple, she carried a brown paper sack in the hand holding onto the handlebar of the scooter. Watson still did not have access to a lot of systems on board, but after checking where the speakers were active, he’d been able to pinpoint Quinn’s location, nestled in the reactor.
The entire area was an organized chaos. Drones flew back and forth, causing her to stop and go as if in traffic. The rewiring in process impressively done, the array torn back to reveal the innards. Kira looked on in curiosity at each part as she passed by it before becoming more focused on hearing some sort of techno music.
Following her ears, she came to one of the floor panels that he’d tossed aside to reveal an engine shaft. She got down on one knee to knock on the side before backing up a little. She waited on either a sign he heard her or a sign he hadn’t. Considering the volume of the music, she prepared to knock again when she saw movement.
Quinn popped up like a prairie dog. His white hair slicked back with grease. Unlike West, it didn’t look purposeful, just as if he’d been putting his hands there absentmindedly trying to get the locks out of his face while he worked. His glance seemed accusatory. Not that she blamed him after their last interaction.
Kira waved the doggie bag with a grin.
Quinn grunted before stepping back down the ladder, disappearing.
Kira shrugged and left it on the side of the panel, figuring he’d be back when he was ready for it. Or he wouldn’t, and one of his drones would dispose of it. She’d done her fair share.
Rolling away like a nineties kid on the scooter, she’d be popping wheelies if she could.
“Well, that could have gone better,” she said aloud.
The man wants to be left alone.
“Oh pish posh.” She wheeled around a corner, leaning into it as she sped away. “He’s gotta eat, and it’s just as easy to make a little extra.”
It’s just as easy to leave him alone.
Kira didn’t reply to that one.
It developed into a pattern. She’d drop off lunch. He’d grunt or barely acknowledge her, but later she received a message through the com system to the tune of ‘Thank you, it was good.’ Considering his original attitude, she found that downright polite.
The third day, he was stuck inside the reactor core. Quinn couldn’t get out without a struggle, and she left laughing when she heard him grumbling, “It’s a bloody frictionless environment, no good gosh darn reason they couldn’t have made this space a little bit fekking bigger except ta save money on materials.”
There was far more colorful language from what she could hear up top before she rolled away. Just like the day before, there was a message from Quinn thanking her for the meal.
A full week passed, and there were no changes. Minor exchanges here and there, but nothing major. She dropped off a cupcake on the sixth day, which was a Saturday. Out of the cast, and no longer reliant on the scooter, she was in a good mood.
Setting down the wrapped plate, she put the cupcake on the side of a table that had once been where Alec used to set things when he worked. It would keep it well enough until he was ready.
“I’m doing waffles in the morning,” she said to him, knowing he couldn”t care less. “It’s Sunday. With strawberries,” she added, since that was her favorite.
Quinn paused in his work at the addition. For once not in the reactor, but in the hall, so she didn’t have to wait for him to appear. Their exchanges had been bare bones, and this was more than she’d said to him in quite some time. She caught a muscle ticking in his jaw.
She wondered what he thought. Would he think it was even an invitation? Clearly, he considered something because it took him a second to conjure up a reply. When he opened his mouth, he only said. “Alright.”
The muscle in his jaw relaxed. Baby steps, Kira reminded herself.
She knew the problem with olive branches was that they were in short supply, just like the amount of flying birds he gave at any moment. She was shorter than most in that department as well. Betrayal, even the slightest, would get them bumped off her radar. A thing she believed Quinn understood better than most.
Figuring that was the best answer she was going to get, she’d turn to head the other direction leaving him with his lunch, and the cupcake, which looked to be covered in icing in such a way as to distract from the fact it was slightly lopsided. While she had not learned to bake things well, even with a tin, it was as delicious, being made with raw ingredients.
You invited him to breakfast?
Watson came over the line the instant they were out of earshot, so she could reply freely. Quinn may have been keeping him out of most things, but he could hear her side and most of what came through the communicator.
“I did,” Kira said lightly, taking the shuttle up.
Do you think he’ll actually accept?
“Probably not.” Was that disappointment in her voice? Kira had a sort of curiosity that couldn’t be denied, or easily subdued. Quinn’s previous confession had only strengthened her need to figure out what lay beneath the exterior. Her crew was important to her. It was key to her effective captainship to make connections with each member.
Watson made a sound that resembled a ‘hm’, as if he considered it as well.
“Watson, you never keep your opinion to yourself for long, so you might as well say it.”
We’re only transporting him after he finishes this work. Hela can ship his meals to his room, and he’ll want nothing to do with anyone else.
Kira quieted after that. The only way to tell if things would change was if he showed up the next morning.
Right as she’d begun cleaning up, the man in question, for the first time, appeared in the kitchen.
He looked like a steamroller had run him over. With bags under his eyes, Quinn grumbled under his breath. The only words Kira caught were, “way too fekking early.”
The man yawned as he scratched his cheek and blinked as if he realized he was late. “Buggering fek.”
“Good morning to you too, sleeping beauty.” Kira stood by the waffle iron which she’d been turning over.
The grunt Quinn offered in return sounded almost like a snorted laugh, or perhaps a disgusted one. He wasn’t looking her way, so it was hard to tell. In fact, he sat at the table with his head face down on top of his arms, shielding his face.
Kira laughed brightly and opened the old-fashioned iron by flipping it back over. Pulling the waffle out with tongs, she’d been about to put it on a plate and leave it for him since she figured he was just being unsocial. She’d ate in the kitchen, so she piled up the syrup, strawberry bowl, and the butter between her two hands. Kira also grabbed a glass of milk and somehow delivered it to the table without spilling a drop. She rearranged the table and sat down across from him.
“This is just fekking, sugar.” The man sounded a bit shocked by the revelation.
“There’s some stuff in the strawberries that’s good for you.” She told him as she set the syrup next to him. “Try this on it.”
She plucked a strawberry out of the bowl. The Callistar boasted a hydroponics bay in which most of their vegetables and fruits came from, perhaps a little rushed by the ability of the fertilizer and current technology, but still fresh. That was where their fruit hailed, the wheat as well, which was Hela’s business. Kira stayed out of her way and just used what she needed with approval.
Quinn eyed the bottle and Kira with a frown, but shrugged and did what she suggested. He took a bite, chewed thoroughly, then nodded his head. While he still scowled, it wasn’t like he could deny that he enjoyed the meal. It vanished fairly quickly.
Still, he wasn’t chatty. When he finished, he cracked his neck, making an audible sound.
“Thanks,” he muttered to her as he eyed the dirty plate. Kira caught a flash of blue, and a moment later a drone showed up, clearing it away before she could react.
“You’re welcome.”
Kira expected very little out of the man. He was clearly a loner. She kept him company while he ate, only picking out the occasional strawberry and enjoying the quiet that built up. It was not as awkward as she might have believed it could have been, but the Vicar had not yet returned to make things interesting with Quinn. She knew Max was going to be shut in a corridor before things were over- by Quinn.
Watson butted in after she finished that train of thought. There’s a message from Toke.
“Is it urgent?” She had to ask aloud for Watson to hear.
It is not flagged as such.
“Then it can wait.” Talking to oneself wasn’t seen as a psychiatric disorder with the matter of futuristic technology. One was most likely talking to an A.I. or talking on a cross line in the ship.
Watson made a clicking sound, which made her grimace in return. She hated that sound as it rang loudly, vibrating her ear drums. It was his way of expressing his displeasure.
Quinn didn’t seem to register her talking at all. If he did, he didn’t seem bothered by it. The drone that cleared his plate came back for the rest of the supplies. Quinn ducked out before she could get another word in edge-wise.
The message from Toke was simple and to the point. A date, time, and location. She had asked for a meeting before the Callistar left Eikos, and he’d given her about a week to cool her heels. Kira mused he probably hoped she’d come to something akin to peace with his orders, to avoid yet another argument.