First they stopped by the equipment locker, and he found a pair of magnetic crampons small enough to attach to her uniform boots. He had her stand, her hand braced on his shoulder, while he knelt before her to carefully fit the devices to her feet. Even with her boots on, his fingers overlapped around her delicate ankles. How had such an insubstantial species managed to dominate their planet? With such clueless willfulness, perhaps they should remain a closed world forever.
When he was satisfied she wouldn’t accidentally float away if they lost gravity again, he let her up.
While she took a few tottering steps, adjusting to the extra inches and weight, he checked in with the rest of the crew, scattered to their tasks. At least the separate internal comm system seemed intact.
“No further evidence of power distortions,” reported Griiek. “The fire in the hatch corridor did no meaningful damage, and I’ve already cleared the cosmetic issues.”
Ellix rolled his eye to Felicity, and she drew her shoulders up around her ears, her nose wrinkling in a way that made him want to pet her as she’d petted him.
“Thank you, Griiek,” they said in unison. She flashed a wry grin at him, and for some reason that made him want to purr as if she had pet him again.
“I might be able to trigger the distortion if I shut down and restart the ship,” Suvan mused. “One good power surge could expose any flaws outside engineering.”
“Nay,” Ellix said in a blunt tone he knew Suvan needed to hear. “Maybe, if we were still on a low-crew freighter on an isolated route, we’d risk it. But there’s no need this close to port with passengers aboard.”
The disgruntled grumble cut out.
“He won’t shut down the ship, will he?” Felicity whispered.
“If he was going to do it, we’d already be holding our breath.”
Or sharing it. He needed to stop musing on that moment. The ship was in danger while he was dreaming. As she’d said, this was no time for romance.
“I’m sorry I set your ship a little bit on fire,” she said.
“It’s not my ship.”
“Well, you are the captain. At least for this one cruise.” She half-jogged alongside him as he headed for the salon. “Did you always want to be a spaceship captain?”
“Doesn’t every youngling?” He glanced down at her. “Or maybe that’s not true on a closed world.”
“Even on Earth there are kids who want to be astronauts or astronomers or science fiction cosplayers in green latex. Although obviously they have no idea just how far that might take them.”
As she spoke, she sounded calmer. Keeping her talking was the least he could do as her captain.
“Like you?” he prodded. “How did you join the Intergalactic Dating Agency from a closed world?”
“One of the IDA outposts on Earth is near my hometown. And really, everyone who lived there sort of knew there was something strange about our town. We even had an extraterrestrial festival. When I was in charge of our senior prom—that’s like a big last celebration for Earther younglings ready to head out on their own—I chose the theme ‘The Stars are Ours’, and that was before I found out about all this.” She shrugged. “But then I left for college, got my degree in hospitality management, and started working in nicer hotels, doing bigger events. Until, out of the blue, Mr. Evens contacted me. I used to shop at his thrift store all the time, but I had no clue about the IDA. He danced aroundthatrather vaguely for quite a while.”
“It must’ve been a shock.”
“It was…but it wasn’t. Earth has a long history of wondering about what’s out there. To many people, it was always a matter of notif, butwhenwe’d have contact with intelligent life in the universe.” She shook her head. “And I’m amazed at how many other beings were also looking to the stars, wondering about the possible connections.”
Something constricted in his chest. What were the chances that she’d be one of the closed-worlders who’d come this far? To the ship that he’d chosen to captain on little more than a whim?
In space, even the tiniest angle of change led to literally astronomical differences in paths and destinations.
Yet here they were, together.
In the Starlit Salon, the last sunset lingered at a partial eclipse as the ship hung unresponsive, stuck on its last trajectory.
Felicity glanced uneasily around the room. “This is where we first saw it.”
A power distortion…or something else? The shadow in the corridor reaching for Felicity and the other passengers hadtriggered all his Kufzasin instincts. “Tell me what Evens said about the ship being…haunted.”
She stopped abruptly with a thud of her magnetic boots. “You’re serious?”
“Always.”
