Page 26 of When the Universe Sings

Before I could reach my room, a hand closed around my elbow, spinning me in place.

“I’ve been calling for you,” Captain Ruciyah growled.

This was the male I knew, venom dripping in his voice and shoulders rigid with tension. I jerked out of his hold, took a few steps back. His chest heaved with deep breaths, hand trembling in the space between us. But his fury stilled the rising tide in my body, giving me the calm I needed to relax my shoulders and lift my chin.

His arm fell back to his side. “We need to talk.”

My brow twitched, just a singular movement to convey how unlikely that was to happen. He’d spoken enough in the last few hours. I took another step back, never taking my eyes off the predator before me.

“Listen…I know—” A rumbling sound of frustration vibrated through the respirator when I took another step, then another.

After hesitating for less than a heartbeat, he followed, cloak billowing behind him. I didn’t run—some small voice in the back of my head told me to do so would be dangerous. But I increased my speed, keeping a hand at the wall so I wouldn’t careen into it as I walked backward.

“For once in your life, will you justlisten?”

I stopped abruptly. The sentiment was laughable. All I ever did was listen and I’d heard enough to last me a lifetime. In that meeting I’d heard everything I needed to understand who I was to him and what this mission would be. The universe was cruel and it had placed me into the hands of cruelness personified.

“You need to understand, those people—what we’re doing… I…” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “I know this was uncomfortable for you, but I had to do it, do you understand? What we’re working for…”

I pressed my hand to the control panel and slipped through my door before he could finish his sentence. The minute I was on the other side I slammed the button to engage the lock. I moved toward the bed, reaching for the clasps of the dress, but froze when his voice slipped through the crack, muffled. Thewords were indistinct, but his tone was defeated. Another trick, another lie, another crystal web he wove around us all.

The moment his heavy footsteps fell away, my shoulders dropped and I shook my head. A tiny part of me repeated over and over:I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. But I knew it wasn’t true. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d ever done anything I wanted. The only solace I had was deep within myself, sliding into that quiet place in my mind where nothing else existed.

So that was where I went with a few deep breaths, counting each item I could see in the room until even my heartbeat slowed. I unclasped the dress from behind my neck, mindful of the strands of stones as I slipped out of it and folded it on the foot of my bed.

And for the next few days, that was where I lived. Sleep wasn’t a reprieve, in fact being awake was the relief I sought. Because every time I closed my eyes I was there again, watching Captain Ruciyah discuss the destruction of my people with his superiors, the flippant command for everything to be destroyed ringing in my ears. I woke often with my throat aching, wiping at damp cheeks, though I could feel nothing of what I’d experienced in those dreams.

I couldn’t feel anything at all.

From the crease between her brows as I gave her back the gown, Zoleka saw it, but if she said anything I didn’t hear it. Even at the meals I followed Greabes to, I barely heard the conversation around me. Something about a gala, something about fingerprints and replicas.

But it was just noise, the same as the hum of the environmental systems on Ebyd III, and the way the music, the moans, and the cries of theDaskquahhad been. And maybe Captain Ruciyah had been right. Maybe I hadn’t heard anythingsince I’d lain within the undergrowth of my home tree and the ashes of everyone I’d ever loved had rained from the sky.

…

“Juniper?”

Maxtalen’s voice slipped through my door. I sat up, placing the book from Zoleka on the bed. He knocked, the sound tinny, and I stiffly made my way to my feet before pressing the release on the door.

He smiled down at me, smudges beneath his eyes and hair a bit rumpled. Vaguely I remembered a conversation about the work he’d been doing researching the security around the event we would attend. Something about alarms and lasers that had made the twins curse.

“I haven’t seen you around lately and I wanted to see if you would help me with something?” One of his shoulders lifted in question and he gestured to one of the control rooms stationed around the ship.

It was true—I’d stopped going to the common area at night for tea. Maxtalen kept up a steady commentary at dinner, though I’d struggled to follow. But he never appeared deterred, probably since he understood most questions he asked would go unanswered from me. In fact, most of the crew had learned that. The twins occasionally poked fun at how silent I was, often saying if they killed someone, they’d have me help destroy the body.

“Juniper?”

He’d asked me something but I couldn’t remember what it was. I nodded all the same, slipped on my boots and followed him out.

“I just need an extra set of hands on these codes to get through the firewall,” he explained, turning another corner.

He led me to the control room I’d seen him emerge from before. It was dark, save for the screens projected from the desk, a small rolling stool haphazardly flung away. Empty cups were stacked against the corner of the work station along with a few crumb-filled plates. Shelves lined the far wall with broken pieces of coolant pipes and other tech gear haphazardly arranged. The air was stale and heavy with the scent of sweat. I looked up. The ventilation shaft was covered by a few boxes on the shelf below it, restricting the airflow of the room.

“Uh, here, have a seat.” He hooked his foot beneath the chair, dragging it to the desk.

I was careful not to touch the controls in front of me, a mix of buttons, symbols, and projected text on the metal, as I sat. Warmth splashed across my shoulder and I froze when he leaned over me, pointing to an indecipherable symbol. “I need you to hold this down until I tell you to, okay?”

Frowning, I pressed on the button. There had to be a way for him to do this without another person.