Page 27 of Cloverleaf Station

“Firecloth never wears out,” Kieron defended his choice even as he exhaustedly watched Elenus shove socks on his feet. “And it doesn’t stain, you can’t rip it, and it’s burn resistant.”

“Get set on fire a lot in this job?”

“You’d be surprised.” He’d borne the brunt of more than one gout of flames, once in a kitchen malfunction and again when a fight broke out and someone pulled a mini flamethrower. That individual had been kicked off Cloverleaf as a result, and Kieron had spent an evening in the Regen tank, having half of his scalp regrown. Getting your hair set on fire was not fun.

“Well, damn, I should up your pay. There.” Elenus set down Kieron’s foot, stepped around the corner, and brought in a … chair? It was more like a miniature throne, complete with an individual antigrav unit that let it float an inch off the floor but with a magnetic system that would hold it in place if needed. Kieron knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it.

“Where did you get that?” Kieron asked, awestruck and suspicious at the same time. “There was nothing like that on either of your ships.” Was there? Had he missed something on Catalina? Speaking of Catalina … “Is Moritz dead?”

“You’re going to give me whiplash, the way you keep jerking me from subject to subject,” Elenus complained. “No, he’s not dead, he’s … call it resting. I’ll show you later. And this, no, it’s not an original part on either of my ships—the Lizzie is still out there, bless her, but I couldn’t risk leaving you alone, and Catalina’s not ready for another spaceflight yet anyway—but—what was I saying? Oh, right.” He shook his head. “Don’t mind me, I’m tired. Anyway, this isn’t an original part, but it is a Catalina construction. I gave her the general specs for what you’d need for a while, and she did the rest.” He looked at the chair proudly. “I think she did a great job.”

“She made this … for me?” Kieron wondered why his heartbeat suddenly picked up.

“I did mention the crush, didn’t I?” Elenus scooted the chair closer. “Speaking of, she’d love to see you, so if you don’t mind taking a detour to the hangar before heading back to yours for a nap, I know it would mean a lot to her.”

Kieron couldn’t quite believe he was saying this, but … “Yeah. Okay, I’d love to.”

Chapter twelve

Elenus wheeled the chair down the hall, which prompted Kieron to take a moment and think about the strangeness of his current circumstances. The last time he’d been at the station and conscious, he’d been absolutely furious at this man. He’d been looking forward to getting Elenus his ship back so he could get the fuck out of here without destroying Kieron’s chances at staying on Cloverleaf Station long enough to find Zakari’s remains.

That was all he wanted—other people and their wants didn’t enter into his calculus except insofar as how much he had to pander to them to get what he wanted done. It was simple, it was mercenary, it was cold, and lonely, and all he had. And now …

It was the sound Kieron noticed first. A low hum, mechanical but not completely so; there was an element of whimsy to it, like a child mimicking the noise of a bumblebee, or a catterpet purring in time with a spring breeze. It lilted and lofted through the hall, penetrating walls and floors and other structures like they weren’t even there.

“Is that …”

“Catalina’s singing.” Kieron didn’t have to look at Elenus to know he was grinning. “She’s been singing ever since she got here. She agreed to restrict the resonant frequencies to areas outside the control room and the clinic since we don’t want to cause any accidents or make it hard for you to sleep, but she sings, and the station sings with her. I don’t even know how she makes it work, to be honest,” he added. “She did it back home too. It’s always been something she’s enjoyed.”

“But … you know the parts she uses to do it, the program …”

“Nope. Some things just aren’t my business, and the constructs my kiddo creates to give herself a means of expression are some of those things. It’s private, and as long as it doesn’t interfere with her day-to-day functionality, then it’s fine.”

Kieron craned his neck and looked back at Elenus. “Are you actually a parent? Do you have practice at doing this?” Nobody was such a fucking idiot to other adults and so godsdamn good with kids at the same time unless there were extenuating circumstances.

“No biological kids,” Elenus replied, “but I fund several orphanages in my home city. That means spending time with the kids in addition to making sure they have the material goods they need to get to a better place in their lives.”

Kieron narrowed his eyes. “What’s driving you to act like such a saint?”

“It’s a cultural thing,” Elenus said as he turned the chair toward Catalina’s hangar. “Those who have great means are expected—required—to provide for those in our society who are on the lowest rung. One of the ways that happens is through the sponsorship programs in universities, but once you hit a certain income threshold, expectations go up. I’m one of the wealthiest people on Gania. Reinvesting that wealth in the well-being of my people is the best way on offer to get decent tax write-offs. Plus, kids are great. They’re the easiest people in the world to get along with.”

“Children.”

“Yeah.”

“Easy to get along with.”

“They are,” Elenus insisted. “They’re so straightforward most of the time, it’s really refreshing. I wish everyone talked to me the way the kids in my life do.”

“You don’t seem to like it when I’m straightforward with you.”

Elenus paused right outside the hangar door. “Maybe that’s because I care more about your opinion of me.”

Kieron’s cheeks heated up. It wasn’t—he couldn’t be saying what Kieron thought he was. This was a side effect of Kieron rescuing Elenus’s ship. Elenus would be extra interested and kind for a few days, and then he’d calm down and back off into snarky distance again. And that would be fine.

Just fine. Kieron didn’t need companionship or someone to care about him anyway. Not when he had a job to do.

You just almost died. Consider taking a tiny break before you jump back into your insane schedule.