Page 90 of Seven Oars
“He’s still there. They chained him to the wall. It was actually the smoker’s idea,” Anske added.
It was not great news, but at least Rosamma knew that Phex was still alive. That was something.
Chained…
“Where’s Alyesha?” Eze asked, returning from using the“facilities.”
She’d gotten better, able to get up and move around. The swelling in her face had gone down, leaving vivid splotches of bruises all over it. Her jaw, she claimed, hadn’t been dislocated, after all.
Anske looked around.“She left soon after you. Is she not here?”
“No,” Rosamma stated the obvious.
“Oh. Well, I don’t know where she is.”
Once the conversation shifted away from the Holy Guide and Galan, Anske lost interest.
Rosamma glanced again at Alyesha’s empty spot, then at Gro.
“We’re not going to look for Alyesha,” Gro said succinctly, catching Rosamma’s eye.“She ain’t Daphne, and she’s not lost, believe me.”
While she agreed with Gro, Alyesha’s absence made Rosamma uneasy.
Like petting a buffalo.
The women turned in, but it was a while before Rosamma dozed off.
*****
She woke up in the middle of the“night” again, shivering.
Sounds of partying drifted in from the Habitat.
She tried not to listen, but against her will, she recognized Xorris’crazed laugh and Nud’s voice, raised over Galan’s sick hacking.
The lurching bass thumped.The cloying smell of the never-ending synthetic weed seeped into the Cargo Hold.
Same old, same old.
Rosamma snuggled deeper under her ripped, crinkly blanket, careful not to make too much noise.
Oh, bother. Why did she care about making noise? Her rustling wouldn't rise over the background hum or wake anyone.
Even without the“music,” this place was never silent. The persistent drone of the station’s seven systems had stopped being a distraction and had even become comforting. She had learned its variations and idiosyncrasies. For instance, here, the fan of theoarthat serviced their Cargo Hold scraped against something in one place. It rasped every time a blade passed a small obstruction, like snorts of a great beast: chuff, chuff, chuff…
Gro was snoring quietly nearby, sleeping away with arms thrown over her head, oblivious to the noise. A prison-learned skill, she’d said. Who could’ve known it would come so handy in her golden years?
Behind Gro, Sassa lay motionless under her pile of rags, completely hidden from view. If only it were possible to hide from their captors like this.
Restless, Rosamma shivered again and tried to find a more comfortable position. Her head swam slightly as she lifted it, and her limbs felt heavy.
Her energy was slowly leaving her.
She licked her lips, noting how dry they were. That, at least, could be helped by drinking more, but a tiny nagging voice inside her mind whispered,Why bother? You’re going to die anyway. Soon. It will be a relief from everything…
The dim lights flickered again.
Rosamma blinked.
