Aberrant

Chapter 31

Sleep deprivation. Stress. Low goddamn blood sugar.

That's all it had been. Nothing to worry about.

Nothing to get institutionalised over.

Jinx wiped the crumbs of a hot-sauce jumbo burger from her mouth and scanned the port terminal, eyes skimming over e-billboards flashing travel specials and robots hawking accommodation. The irrational fear that had gripped her had loosened its hold the second she'd hit the main arrivals terminal. With food now in her belly and the familiar sounds of shuttle engines and flight announcements around her, she almost felt sane.

And if a sliver of ice still stiffened her spine, she'd live with it. The only thing that mattered right now was finding her friends. Given what'd just happened ... time most likely wasn't on her side.

Gripping her bag, she stopped in front of Dock 130's viewing window. She was right on time. Outside, a mass of rag-tag passengers disembarked a stout military shuttle. A lot of them looked injured. Some were on stretchers.

Stepping closer to the window, she tried to make out faces. Her lips quivered stupidly as she recognised service staff and E-district workers from Tirus 7 and crew members who'd been regulars at the port. Then a lumbering—limping—figure with a shock of brassy hair dismounted the shuttle's ramp.

The instant the arrivals' door slid open for the man, Jinx pounced. "Dem!"

Her supervisor's cat eyes widened as she flung herself at him. "Koel! Damn it." He caught her against his bulging belly and hugged her hard. "Thought you were roach bait."

"I'm fine." Jinx drew back, slightly horrified she was tearing up. The carbs in her burger needed to kick in stat. "But what happened to you, you old wreck? You're limping."

"Twisted knee. I'm not built to dodge bullets—or bloody lasers."

Recalling how he'd lost his human eyes to photonic tech, Jinx squeezed his arm. "You're not bug soup. That's what counts."

"There but for the grace of God, kid." Dem limped over to a seat and sat down heavily.

Jinx took the one next to him and resisted the urge to hug him again—confirm he was really there, breathing. "I've seen footage of what's left of A-Deck. Shit, Dem. Things got ugly."

"That's one word for it." Dem looked out across the busy terminal. His face... Jinx's heart thudded. Maybe neither one of them was ready for this conversation.

She opened her mouth to change the subject.

Dem's heavy hand on her knee stopped her. His throat worked a second before he turned to her, cat pupils fully dilated. "The look of those things, Jinx." His grip tightened a moment. "I should never have assigned you that inspection. What the hell was I thinking sending you onto a roach ship? I was going to do it myself. Got as far as the airlock. Then calls came in, complaints from mining execs, and I thought, 'Fuck it. Koel can handle this.' I'm an arsehole."

"That's not news, Dem." Jinx grasped his hand. "And who else would you have assigned the job while you sorted out all that other shit? Droe? He might've been the CI on call, but his brain never reports for duty."

Dem snorted. "That drug-addled prick survived, you know? He was out on Zero meeting his dealer. Took cover in an old escape passage."

"And both of us will eventually get over that disappointment." Jinx forced a smile then drew in a breath. "Dem, the top deck—?"

"Was bloody mayhem." He met her stare grimly. "The fuckers ran right over the top of us like we weren't even there. They wanted management and coms. Swarmed the admin level. Never seen anything like it. If we'd met up in my office as planned..." He shook his head and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Those of us on the docks got lucky. We got left to the gas."