Clanless

Chapter 8: Threads of Gold and Platinum

The next day, I focus on trying to find out Danaiya's and Teyan's plan. Maybe I'm searching fruitlessly. Maybe they don't even have one. It's only been a single day, and I am already starting to doubt myself. Maybe I misunderstood what they were talking about. Maybe it was a joke. For all I know, morbid conversations about murder are what those two do to pass the time like normal people play charades.

I'm glad Amari is too busy studying advance reports from the ship to pay much attention to me. It leaves me free to investigate.

I turn up exactly nothing that day.

I turn up exactly nothing the day after that.

I feel useless. How can I compete with the likes of Danaiya? I'll probably never find out their plan. One day, an accident will happen, and my Amari will be gone, and I will be nothing again, less than nothing. The reality drowns me like an ice bath, cold and sharp and paralyzing.

It is now three days after my overhearing the plot. Amari is scheduled to fly up to his ship. At least he will be safe there. Those people are his crew, his friends, loyal only to him, at least I think so. I think it will be the hardest few days of my life, maybe even harder than the day my clan died.

It's odd to think about that. Has Amari become even more important to me than my clan? More important than my family?

Maybe. I don't have a clan or a family anymore. Amari is all I have. His love is all I have. I think it's enough. Maybe.

It's our last morning of cuddles until he leaves. I hold him close, not willing to let him get out of bed, even though he's told me three times now that he needs to get ready. He doesn't try very hard.

"You have a few more minutes."

"I love you, Daimion, but I really don't. I'm going to miss my own shuttle launch."

"What are they going to do, fly away without their own captain?"

He laughs. "Maybe."

I wish I could imprint his laugh onto my eardrums, play it whenever I want to. Like every few hours for the next three or four days.

His personal datapad chimes with a message. He reaches over for it, studies the screen. "Well, maybe we do have time."

"You're not going?"

"You wish. No, I'm going, but the prep team found something wrong with the shuttle, engine problem. They're delaying a few hours while they fix it."

My momentary rush of excitement dies instantly.

Engine problem.

Accidents happen.

I feel sick.

"I think we need some chaiyev," I say, pushing back the covers.

Amari is incredulous. "Now you want to get up?"

I look at his face. I have to play the act. I still don't know anything. With a disarming smile, I flop back down next to Amari. We play wrestle a little bit, something else he likes to do in the morning, for some reason. Usually, I resist it, but today it helps to get my tension out. It ends with me kissing him all over and him laughing when I dig my fingers into his ticklish spots.

I think I've convinced him that nothing is wrong.

When I come back with the chaiyev, he is dressed in his flight suit. He takes the mug. "I'm going to the study down the hall to work on these reports," he says. "Don't go too far. I want you there to see me off."

"Won't miss it," I promise.

When he is away, I go to the computer console. "Computer, display flight plan for Intamu orbital shuttle 279."