Page 84 of Seven Oars
Rosamma glanced at Sassa’s bunched-up covers.
“I’m going to the Habitat,” she said.
Gro raised her head.“Haven’t you done this before?” she asked in frustration.
Rosamma had already stepped over Esseh, but Gro’s words stopped her in her tracks. She looked around the Cargo Hold. It wastheirroom, but there was no safety to be found inside.
“I don’t think it matters very much where they kill me, if they decide to do it,” she said quietly to Gro.
“You can’t help Phex, anyway,” Alyesha piped in.
“I know.” Rosamma swallowed the lump forming in her throat.“I just hate that he always faces them alone.”
Alyesha scoffed.“He won’t appreciate it. Don’t be a fool. That alien will never have an interest in you. He doesn’t care, Rosamma, and he hates being responsible for us.”
Rosamma straightened her spine.“Maybe not, but I care. I’m not afraid of being responsible.”
*****
She arrived at the Habitat alone.
This time, she didn’t stop to peek in. She simply walked in and stood by the door.
Phex was on the floor with his hands and feet bound, surrounded by the pirates. The Striker was there, seated in his chair, overseeing this important assembly of his motley crew. They were hotly debating how best to maim Phex in retaliation for knocking out Esseh, and whether they should wait for Esseh to recover so he could do the honors himself.
“Didn’t Esseh already have his chance?” the Striker mused.
Thilza laughed by the wall, releasing wild puffs of white smoke.
“I've said it before, and I’ll say that again: keeping the defender alive is asking for trouble.” Massar’s six fingers caressed his wicked blade with tenderness.“Send him to the trash chute. Piece by piece.”
A disjointed chorus of agreement with Massar’s general idea rippled through the room, although thoughts on its execution varied.
“And the females?” the Striker posed the question casually, as if bored with the topic and unconcerned about the outcome.
As before, the heavy weight of his attention threw Rosamma off-kilter. He knew she stood there, listening. He was toying with her, just as he was toying with his comrades, who were, with some exceptions like Thilza, too dense to understand that he’d already made up his mind.
Why the Striker would want to pick on her, of all people, she wasn’t sure. It could be her peculiar appearance, or her dual-species nature. Many reacted to it, she knew.
But with him, it felt different. The Striker despised weakness, and her obvious and increasing frailty must be triggering to him.
Nud was the first to vote for killing all the women off.
“Why are they even here?”
“Pussy,” Xorris replied.
Nud had nothing to say to that.
Rosamma kept her expression smooth, but the pulse beating at her throat refused to be tamed. She stood far from the Striker’s chair, yet couldn’t shake the feeling that he was tracking her pounding heart.
Suddenly, Gro appeared at Rosamma’s side, followed by Fawn, Anske, and even Alyesha. No words were exchanged between the women, but their glances communicated unity.
Rosamma sagged in relief. She hadn’t realized how much effort standing there alone had cost her.
Meanwhile, Massar also votedyayto dispense with the women, but only on the condition that he be granted“quality time” with them beforehand.
The rest of the pirates, surprisingly, weren’t so quick to condemn them. And Ucai said nothing at all.
