Page 61 of Mutant Mine

The relief I feel when she walks into the room is immediate.

“Hey,” she smiles at me. “I brought you some coffee.”

“Thank you.” I accept the steaming cup, and step away from the instruments to drink it. The coffee is strong, and focuses my scattered thoughts.

Rory settles herself on one of the stools beside the instrument panel.

“So,” she says. “What have you been up to in here?”

“I am checking our course,” I say.

“Right, of course. And how’s that looking? All on track?”

“Yes,” I say. “We should arrive at Caster-391 innine days’time.”

Rory looks at her feet and kicks the ground a little. “That’s great,” she says. “We’ll be there before we know it.”

“We will indeed.”

When she looks up at me again, her brow is knitted with concern.“Are yousurethat we’re on track? Adjusting for the asteroids the other day didn’t knock us way off course or anything? Maybe you should check your calculations again.”

Poor little bird. She looks so anxious. Of course, she knows nothing of space navigation. It must be unnerving, to have your life in the hands of a technology that you do not understand.

“There is nothing to worry about,” I reassure her. “I have checked the calculations more than once. It was only a minor adjustment, and we are making good progress.”

“We’re over halfway there?”

“Yes. We are several days past the midpoint of our journey.”

Rory does not speak for a moment. She gives me a long, inscrutable look. Finally, she turns away with a sigh.

“Okay,” she says. “Thank you. I just needed to hear you say that.”

I set down my cup and step closer to her. She is stiff, at first, when I lean down to kiss her. But she soon softens into me. And when I lift her up to carry her through to our rooms, she wraps her arms around my neck.

She is in a gloomy mood today, but all will be well. I will give her every comfort and distraction that I can.

Perhaps this is not really about the asteroids or the flight path. Perhaps it is the fear that wewillarrive at our destination. Rory must be growing nervous about the uncertain future that is approaching us fast.

I cannot promise her there is nothing to fear. I am afraid, too. But that is my weight to bear.

30

Rory

ROTH’S ARMis as heavy and unyielding as a steel bar where it’s curled around my waist. He holds me firmly against his massive body as his chest rises and falls with slow, rhythmic breaths. I can’t move — I can scarcely breathe, taking tiny sips of air, even though my lungs ache. I don’t want to wake him.

This is rare. Usually, Roth is awake when I go to sleep, and gone altogether by the time I wake up. But tonight, it’s me lying in the dark, staring up at the black ceiling. I’ve been lying here like this for hours, thinking. Panicking.

I feel… scared. Like when I was a little girl in my dark bedroom, hyper-aware of every small sound — certain that something was creeping across the floor towards me. Something bad.

He’s just sobig.Recently, I’ve lost sight of that. Roth’s body became this delicious thing… lengths of smooth muscle, hard planes, dips and curves that I want to explore and taste. But right now, all I can feel is the sheer size of him, pinning me down.

Why is this man lying to me?

This vast, powerful man, who could crush me in an instant. This convict. This mutilated freak of nature. This kind, complicated person who has saved my life, fed me, talked to me about flowers and monsters, and made me feel sweetness in my body like I’ve never felt before. Who holdsme now, even in his sleep.

Why is he lying?

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