Page 11 of Hijack!
Holding back a grimace, she shared a quick glance with Ikaryo. They’d both been through the required safety drills, and she’d concentrated closely, just as she did when the flight attendants asked for her attention or when she reviewed the directions for opening a can of cinnamon roll dough. Step one in the drills—and with opening those terrifyingly pressurized dessert tubes, for that matter—was staying calm.
“Ikaryo, will you please contact maintenance about rebooting the salon?” Was that a tremor in her voice? Hopefully no one else heard it. She needed to establish her authority. What would the captain do? “If everyone would please have a seat while we get sorted out.”
“Maybe it’s a ghost,” Mariah said. “You said the ship is haunted.”
Someone else cleared their throat. “If power is out, what about life support?”
Oh, the haunted story had just been a brief anecdote from Mr. Evens when they’d been drafting promotional materials. At the time, she’d thought he seemed strangely serious about the story, but when she’d noted that the Big Sky IDA was about people finding their futures, not dwelling on their lonely pasts, he’d agreed.
And anyway, she didn’t think he’d actually want the precursor to ghosts—meaning corpses—on his ship. “Of course we have all the redundancies and backup systems necessary for any situation,” she said firmly. “But we won’t need—”
Before she could finish, the lights came on and the music resumed as if it had never missed a beat.
The salon comm clicked. “This is Captain Nehivar. Apologies for the interruption. As you all will recall from your prizetickets, this is the first sunset cruise for the Love Boat I. We anticipated rebalancing a few systems and performing checks enroute, and we appreciate your understanding. That concludes our evaluation. Please enjoy the rest of the tour.”
When the comm clicked off, Ikaryo added, “And don’t forget to grab another drink as you search for your tokens.”
That rejuvenated the jovial atmosphere in the salon. But maybe there was a lingering edge of fright?
Felicity’s heart was still banging just a little too hard. She’d long ago mastered the deep breathing and catastrophizing thought interruptions and whatnot, but… She’d never been on a spaceship before—just another pressurized tube, really—with the vast, cold, deadly emptiness of the universe all around.
She gulped another painful breath that was probably too shallow to count as therapeutic.
“Reminds you how precarious it all is, doesn’t it?” Remy’s voice behind her made Felicity jolt.
She turned, her automatic smile feeling too stiff. “The game, you mean?”
Remy spread her hands. “All of it.”
Felicity wanted to deflect the pessimistic interpretation. Her job was keeping everyone entertained and amused and hopeful, and she knew too well what happened when she allowed anxiety to start nibbling at the edges of her composure. But… “I suppose that’s true. And I guess that’s why we come together like this, to find someone to hold us in the darkness, to offer our own arms—or tentacles or wings or whatever appendages we possess.” She gave the Earther woman a steady look. “A reminder why we shouldn’t fear sharing our joy and pleasure with those who want to receive and reflect it, because we never know what comes next.”
Remy tilted her head, a piercing look in her bright green eyes. “Ah. Was that little hint of danger meant to add zest to the evening? To urge us to seize our chance at happiness?”
A laugh burst out of Felicity, and she put a hand over her lips when Ikaryo glanced over. “That would be so bad!” She leaned toward the other woman. “I wish I’d thought of it. Much spicier than a find-the-match game.”
With a curt chuckle—Remy turned away. “Maybe I will try my luck. Since I’m here anyway, for now.”
Felicity let out a slow, steadying breath—then startled again when a deeper voice came through her datpad. “Director Rowe, if you are done there, please come see me.”
She winced. Had the captain been listening through the device? She hadn’t truly meant she wanted any sort of danger.
A quick glance around showed her the passengers were properly distracted, so she sent an acknowledgment through the datpad. After confirming with Ikaryo, she stepped out into the corridor, gulped down a few hasty calming breaths, and then hurried to her meeting with the captain.
Despite her best affirmations (damn it, how many times did she need to affirm shewaschoosing peace over anxiety!) her pulse quickened. Probably just because she was hurrying. And anyway, being nervous about whatever had happened with the power was not unreasonable; catastrophizing thoughts weren’t as bad as actually catastrophically depressurizing. She wasnotbreathless just because she was beelining toward Ellix—
Her captain.
Who’d redone her bun as if he’d studied its twist. Who’d danced with her in the light of an alien moon. Whose fur felt like velvet with a voice to match…
Her datpad indicated he was in the atmo-hall. All the passengers on this cruise had been selected for optimal compatibility in terms of bioelechemical necessities (no sensedating much less mating someone whose core metabolic processes were poison; the IDA strictly prohibited star-crossed romances that ended unhappily) so the ship’s breathable mix was calibrated via a stored and scrubbed atmospheric mix. But studies had found that most species benefited from randomized trace amounts of other compounds, so atmo-halls provided those almost undetectable elements.
Also, it was so pretty and romantic, basically a garden wonderland.
Felicity sighed, feeling some of her more nebulous worries ease as she passed through the lock into the soft, fragrant air. She’d been here several times, directing the establishment of flora representing their guests’ homeworlds, and then later just enjoying the results. The subtle manipulation of light and temperature maintained all the plants at the peak of their splendor, providing lush ecosystems for small lifeforms, and as she made her way through the alien terrarium, she marveled again at her fortune.
That was the reason her heart lightened, not because the captain was waiting for her beneath a canopy of unfamiliar inflorescence.
Tucked beneath the flowered trellis was a low bench, perfect for an intimate chat…or other interlude. The captain stood framed amid half-hidden twinkle lights, one of the otherworldly blossoms cupped in his big paw, its delicate petals of blue and white dwarfed by his fingers.
