36. Chapter Thirty-Six #2
“I’m very sorry that Indy’s been so ill,” I told Tobago softly.
“Truly. I can only imagine how difficult that must be. But my samples are limited, and I need to ration them out for Ursa in case he goes into withdrawals again.” I cast my mind about for a compromise.
“What if I gave you the money to purchase some black-market lab equipment?” Seeing the skepticism on his face, I dug in.
“The sooner I start my experiments, the sooner we can find ways to replicate the results.”
Tobago huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “If you find a way.”
A long, uncomfortable silence stretched out between us. Val was the one to break it, in that brisk, no-nonsense way of hers. “I think it’s best to table this for now. We all need time to think and regroup.”
I heard her, but I was still watching Tobago, who was now refusing to look at me.
“I want to help Indy,” I told him. “I do. And I will. But I can’t just give away all the doses now, not when Ursa needs them.
And Earth is still months away. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be actively working on the replication process while we make our way there. ”
With any luck, I would succeed before we got there, and then there would be no need to destroy the pool.
“You have to prioritize taking care of your own first,” Val said in that reasonable way of hers. “We understand that, don’t we, Tobago?”
He didn’t say anything as he finally met my gaze, holding it for an uncomfortably long beat before looking over to Val. Then, at last, he nodded.
As we gathered together for the morning meal, the tension was so thick, you could have cut it with a laser blade.
I didn’t know if this had more to do with Croydon being left behind and imprisoned, or with me refusing to help Val and Tobago find the bear algae pool.
A little bit of this, a little bit of that, perhaps.
Either way, though I am sometimes prone to bouts of needless anxiety, I knew I wasn’t imagining the weighted silence, the cold stares, as Ursa and I took our seats at the breakfast table.
Tobago didn’t even look up as we approached; Val met my gaze and nodded, but did so extremely cautiously, almost as if in warning. The men who were already at the table glared, and those in the kitchen stopped what they were doing, fell silent, and stared.
Only Zenny behaved with any degree of normality. She rolled her eyes at the behavior of the men and waved us over. “Come sit by me. Let all these children sulk for a few days until they remember Croydon knew all the risks and was a grown man who made his own decisions.”
Her kindness brought tears to my eyes. Obediently, I moved to sit next to her, with Ursa on my other side. He was pressing in very close to me, and had been since we entered the room, no doubt due to the hostility permeating the air.
I appreciated his protectiveness, but it also worried me. He was a frayed wire, ready to snap, and I had no idea if I’d be able to stop him if he truly lost control.
As I settled in, I briefly met the gaze of the man sitting across from me. Willy, who’d played cards with me when I’d been trying to win Ursa a sunlamp. As my eyes found his, he sneered, not bothering to hide his contempt. “Cunt,” he muttered.
I froze, too astonished to do more, but Ursa was on his feet in an instant. To my knowledge, he had no idea what that word meant, but he didn’t need to; the tone, the sneer, were clear enough signals, especially to a man who read body language so well.
Ursa might have lunged across the table if I hadn’t grabbed his arm and held on to him urgently. “Ursa, don’t.”
He could have shaken me off easily if he chose to.
Instead, he bared his teeth and made an odd huffing, growling noise.
Reading that, it might sound rather strange, even comical, but I assure you, in the moment it was absolutely terrifying.
Everyone in the room fell silent once more, this time for very different reasons.
Tobago rose to his feet, cutting through the silence. “Willy, take a walk.” The man stood obediently, still putting on a front of being surly, though I noticed he did hurry from the room.
Once he was gone, Tobago looked over in our direction. “Ursa, do you need to excuse yourself, too, or can you behave?”
He was addressing Ursa, but looking at me, and so I answered. “He’ll behave.”
I immediately cringed at the word, hating the sound of it—like Ursa was some dog that needed to be house-trained.
He wasn’t a dog. He was a wolf, gloriously wild and feral and in desperate need of freedom.
He was never violent unless it was provoked, and it was almost always provoked on my behalf, because he was trying to protect me.
I knew all of that. I saw it so, so clearly, and I loved him for it.
But we also needed to eat. And until we could find a settlement, or at least some habitable land where we could live without Rawley breathing down our necks, we needed to get along with the crew.
Especially if Val and Tobago followed through on the plan to return to Earth, which would mean at least two more months of traveling together.
I met Ursa’s gaze and tried to convey as much of this as I could without saying anything out loud.
Sometimes, I thought, that was how we understood each other best. When there were no words.
After one more long, charged moment, Ursa sat down extremely close to me, as if anyone in the room needed more reminding that I was his to protect.
As I tried to glance over discreetly to check Tobago’s reaction, I instead noticed Val casting a meaningful look over at Burt, who was standing in the kitchenette.
He picked up a mug off the counter and brought it over to Ursa, holding it so the handle was facing him.
“Thought you might like the first cider. For doing the work of five men yesterday while we were loading up all of those crates.”
It was a gesture of good faith, and a reminder to all the men of what a valuable asset Ursa was.
I was glad for it, even as it pained me.
I wished I could have done something more beneficial for the group, provided help or relief to them in some way, instead of only ever being a burden.
But I was glad at least Ursa had found his place here.
Maybe that would buy us some more goodwill, so our last days on the ship wouldn’t be so fraught.
Ursa checked my response, and I gave him a subtle nod of encouragement. Taking the mug, Ursa brought it to his lips and took a long drink.
Somehow, that seemed to relieve some of the awkwardness in the room. Several people cheered, and Ursa smiled despite himself, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. As his gaze met mine, it softened, and I saw some of the tension ease from his shoulders.
Not wanting to let him see any of the qualms I was feeling about my own place in the crew, I smiled back at him, reaching out to stroke the side of his face. He leaned into my touch for a moment before taking another swig of the cider, to the chorus of another round of cheers.
I looked around the room, relief settling in as I saw all the amity directed toward Ursa—until my gaze fell upon Tobago. He was not smiling. His face was ashen, grim.
I couldn’t understand it, not then, anyway; I think now I have a better grasp on what he was feeling. But in that moment, I couldn’t shake the thought that he looked as though he was facing a firing squad, knowing it was only a matter of moments before someone pulled the trigger.
Feeling my gaze on him, Tobago looked up. His expression immediately went slack, as though he didn’t want me to see any part of what he was thinking or feeling.
But it was too late. I’d already seen it. And it made me deeply, deeply uneasy.
1. A feeling I could imagine only in theory, not one I’d actually experienced.