“I want ideas from all of you,” he said. “We don’t seem to be in immediate danger, but that could change. I want to reestablish external comms; Griiek, can we bypass the lockout via a secondary array? Delphine, I want a plot of what’s ahead of us based on our current course. Suvan, get me options on other ways to slow or stop the engines.”
As one, the crew turned to their stations, utterly focused.
Felicity wished she had as much of their calm and command. She flicked through the passenger manifest, scanning all the profile backgrounds. She’d read everything before, several times, wanting to notate potential matches, but she hadn’t been considering their skills and experience in terms of stopping a runaway spaceship.
“I need to check on the passengers,” she told Ellix quietly.
His heavy hand slid down her arm as he dropped into his chair again, his golden eye pinned on her. For a moment, she thought he would refuse her going, and she was ready to argue her expertise, at least in the field of distraction.
“Stay in touch,” he said in a low voice. “If internal comms go out, return here immediately. Your first responsibility is to preserve the ship. There will be no passengers if something happens to the ship.”
“Yes, Captain,” she murmured. When he said it that way, it did make sense.
The ship felt eerily empty after all the happy guests had been exploring the corridors for the game tokens. And yet her nape prickled with a sense of being watched.
She cast a quick glance at the monitors unobtrusively tucked into various corners. Of course she was being watched, if only passively since the crew was too busy at the moment to spy.
She tapped her comm to Ikaryo. “I’m coming to you. Do you need anything? Snacks? Ukulele? Xanax or the extraterrestrial equivalent?”
He chuckled, the sound authentic even though she knew he was following the scripts on Earther expressions she’d composed. “Could use some answers, although I’m guessing if you had those you wouldn’t offer the rest. But snacks are always good.”
After making a quick detour, she approached the lifepod and paused to take a steadying breath. She let out the air, checked the tension in her shoulders, plastered on a not freaked out smile, and let herself in.
Ikaryo had everyone in jump seats. Since they weren’t at full capacity, there was plenty of room, and he’d divvied them up like she’d done for the small group sessions. But an instinctive vibe check told her they’d have to do something else soon. Much like the engines, the mood was humming hard.
He must’ve noticed her quick assessment, because he said quietly, “So far there’s no signs of mutiny, but…”
She nodded. “Did you listen to the captain’s report?”
He touched the cybernetic implant curving behind his skull. “I didn’t have anything useful to add. I’m just a bartender, after all.”
She bit her lip, then quickly smoothed out her expression, knowing she was being surreptitiously watched by the passengers.
Careful not to take too deep a breath, she turned to face them. “It seems we’re getting more of a spontaneous adventure than we bargained for.”
“Is it a bargain if we didn’t pay anything?” Remy called from her seat—once again separated from the others.
A smattering of amused responses drifted around the room. Felicity wondered if she should speak privately with the otherwoman, explain that such comments could shift their little group toward chaos. But for the moment, she just chuckled. “We have temporarily rerouted”—that part was true—“and we’ll rendezvous with a support ship to make our way back to port”—at least she supposed they’d need to do something like that, assuming they didn’t explode or whatever—“but until then, I’ll ask you to stay here until further notice, and I’ll update you regularly.”
She did a quick circuit of the room, apologizing and soothing as she went.
To her surprise, despite the understandable tension, she’d encountered more antagonism at the average five-star wedding back on Earth. Even the Earthen women here were galactic citizens now, cosmopolitan in the cosmic sense. Some of the non-Earther influencers Mr. Evens had selected probably didn’t much care what happened during the excursion so long as it was a good story.
Or maybe it was just that they were all patrons of the Big Sky Intergalactic Dating Agency. They’d chosen to seek out love with other species, subjecting themselves to intimate questionnaires and proprietary algorithms, so perhaps they were primed for a certain amount of shenanigans and possible explosions.
One Earther woman was seated between two aliens, and all three were bent over their game tokens, comparing. Even from across the pod, Felicity noted the synchronicity of their movements: the way they leaned toward each other, gestures echoing in unison, with shared glances that lasted a delicious beat too long, as if the dancing and dining from earlier had continued here in a different form. The burgeoning connection amongst them was like a flower bud yet to open.
“What are the chances?” the Earther exclaimed, about what Felicity hadn’t overheard.
“Literally astronomical,” said the Keptelen on the right.
“Which is how you know it was meant to be.” The left-side Geminga’s feeling button beamed brighter than the third sunset that they’d missed.
Felicity glanced away, her throat tightening a little.
Her first alien matchmaking?
She accidentally made eye contact with Mariah and quickly plastered on a calm, reassuring smile as she turned to the other woman. Luckily, no one here realized just how fraught the situation had become, and they never would, if she kept her cool.
