WHAT REMAINS, Chapter 10: Busted
“Fuuuuck this place,” Novak said the moment their door shut, speaking to the ceiling.
“Yeah, seriously. That was a buffet of humanity I didn’t want to sample.” Sora flumped down on her bunk, scooting back against the wall, and reflexively checked her tablet.
Out of the corner of her eye, Novak stood studying her. He sat down on his bed, looking her in the face as she glanced up from her little screen.
“Kuromoto,” he started, as she was worried he might, “I can ask them to put me somewhere else. I don’t think they want you to be afraid of me.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” Sora snapped immediately, refreshing her inbox, as if she might miraculously have a message from Hayden or Cassidy or Mom, anyone outside this fucking fruit box.
“You haven’t shared a room with someone who could overpower you in years.” Fuck, who said Novak could be so goddamn smart? “Not to bring it up, but you can throw Star Navy marines across the room with half a thought, but you could barely clothesline me yesterday. It’s freaking you out. I can tell.”
“You’re probably the one person in this program who could fuck me up,” Sora muttered, not agreeing with him so much as… commenting. “Other than the Cybercutioner-looking orderlies they’ve got on staff.”
“Yeah—shit, we both used to watch a lot of Cybercutioner. Wonder if they’ve got…” He stopped, trailing off and looking away, his left hand holding on tight to his right wrist like he strained to contain himself. “Sorry. I can sleep somewhere else, Kuromoto. I’ll figure it out.”
“No,” Sora told him, voice hard. “Look, I’m not some pansy, okay? I deal with being freaked out all the time, and I’ve slept in crazier situations, under way more threat than this stupid horrorshow of a room with another expensive-ass cyborg officer—someone I at least know, by the way, which is way better than it could be. I slept in Jarhead Central for months, and yeah, none of them could take me on individually, but they could’ve fucked me up royally if they decided to take me on as a group. You might not think about that kind of stuff, but I was aware of it, every single minute I was in there.”
Novak took a minute to think about this. “If you’re really okay, then… alright. For what it’s worth, Kuromoto… I won’t hurt you.” His eyes fixed hers, devastating sea-glass green. “I’d never hurt you.”
Sora smiled bleakly, hiding the sudden wave of nausea. She’d been stumbling drunk, but she still remembered Commander Loren saying something similar, as he maneuvered her into bed that first time.
“I know you don’t want to hurt me, Novak.” Sora felt that automatic smile on her face, a mystery even to herself. “I know you’re kind of like… just a good guy stuck inside the brain and the body of someone massively fucked up by what’s happened to you. But like… you are all of that too.”
Novak cleared his throat. “I guess I am… and so are you.”
Sora looked away, studying the shadows of the bunks against the fake bulkhead. “True, man. I didn’t want to hurt Wyn. In fact, I’d really rather die than hurt him, or any of the marines on the Fenris. Wyn used to swear up and down that I was safe with him, but all it took was him coming up behind me once, and I showed him that… you know, I didn’t really believe him.”
Novak winced. “Sora… that wasn’t your f—”
She cut him off. “If you’re waiting for me to say I feel totally safe here with you, you’re gonna wait a long time. But I don’t feel safe anywhere, so… it’s all the same to me. This room, Jarhead Central, dry goods storage, a corner of bulkhead, the back of an Apex, some dingy hole on Sirius…. It’s the same, man. You might as well crash here in Hell with me. The company’s alright.”
Novak looked her square in the eye, nodding in surprisingly humble acceptance, and Sora had no idea what came over her. Sometimes when people acted modest or humble, they came off weak to her, like they were showing her their underbellies, inviting her to rip out their viscera. But she felt there might be something strong, sort of compelling, in his particular humility.
Maybe it was just that she felt like Novak got something that she was saying, which other people either couldn’t hear or didn’t want to hear.
“I understand.” He kept his voice quiet, hushed, like a man in a church. “Let me know if I do anything that makes the situation worse, and I’ll try to fix it. If I can.”
Sora cocked her head. “Having stupid action movies on all night really helped, actually. Drowns out the sounds of this fucking room. And I felt sorta… weirdly better, knowing you were on the floor right there. Not that you should keep sleeping on the floor, man. It’s not good for you.”
The corner of his mouth tugged, before he stood heavily, using his cane. “Happy to do it. I haven’t been able to sleep all that much on the Titan for a while now. At least last night, I only had myself and you to worry about, and not my fucked-up relationships with 119 other crew to obsess over.” He glanced at his tablet, and before Sora could follow up, he spoke briskly—as if to prevent it. “It’s nearly 1200. Wanna get to the mess? See what navy slop they’ve got for us this time?”
~*~
The ward caf had transformed since breakfast; now it looked a lot more like a real mess, with five tables, each sitting up to four. Hospitality—a reminder they had their feet on the ground at Indoc—still worked on the lunch setup when they entered, and a steward nodded upon seeing them, as if expecting them to be the first ones in. Normally a Hospitality steward would call them both by their ranks, maybe thank them for their service… but here, under Kalgari’s orders, they remained silent unless asked a question. Bizarro world.
“Shit,” Sora said under her breath, knowing that sour curry smell immediately. “Bombay jackfruit. The fucking worst.”
“I don’t mind it.” Novak didn’t exactly sound thrilled. “Fomorian always had it for mid, and I caught graveyard a lot in my first two years, so I had to get used to it or starve through the longest part of my shift. When I did my galley tour, I found out that our CSOs just had piles of goddamn jackfruit bags in the freezer.”
“Omacatl had pizza for mid. Like a sane ship.” Sora spoke in an undertone, hoping no one from Hospitality heard her talk crap on the Bombay jackfruit. “Never thought I’d call Omacatl sane.”
“Goddamn everybody does pizza for mid,” Novak shot back, grinning. “What’d you usually do when Bombay jackfruit came up? Got a plan here?”
He didn’t need to remind Sora she didn’t eat breakfast, and now she was on the edge of saying “fuck it” to lunch as well, but she’d dealt with this situation.
“Peanut butter pita and a salad, usually.” She looked around for a nut butter to save her. Try as Hospitality might, though, this wasn’t an actual ERSN vessel, and the nods to real practicality were nowhere in sight. “Or a rice salad, I guess. I can make that work.”
The Bombay jackfruit made Sora nauseous, just looking at it. Like back on the ships, it was a stewed mix of jackfruit, along with whatever gigantic frozen veggie prep bag Cook had stashed in the back of the freezer. That got mashed together with a curry gravy full of crushed tomato, lime, sweet chili sauce, and coconut cream or yogurt. The galley crew always screwed this step sideways, and some of the coconut yogurt clumped up like curds, leaving gross, grainy, fatty little chunks in the gravy…. Just the goddamn worst, the absolute, rock-bottom nadir of navy slop.
The door banged open, and NCOs trickled in—no longer a pack, now that they knew each other’s bullshit. They traveled in twos and threes, followed by the doctors and Viorel at the back; he now received proper plague treatment after his freaky-ass eyeball confession. Sora didn’t even have to look to know Crane would make a beeline for her. Sure enough, he stood beside her in seconds holding a plate, grinning at her in greeting.
“Hey, beautiful.” He sounded smug, voice deep, all come-hither. This guy. “Hot and wise. Avoiding the Bombay jackfruit like the plague, huh?”
Sora shot him an appraising look; she could always appreciate a red-blooded marine who wanted to nail her. “It is a fucking plague. Trying to come up with a plan here. No peanut butter. Thoughts?”
Novak, serving canned fruit to his plate on the other side of the serving table, looked up at Crane with sharp eyes. He now watched the guy like a hawk, like they’d been stationed to the Titan, where Novak had the power to hand out NJP and confinement for messing around.
“I usually just eat it—sometimes I add a lot of soy sauce, cover up that sour flavor.” Crane shrugged philosophically, before offering Sora another grin. Sora noticed this thing with Crane, that he was average-looking at neutral, but he leaned adorable and kinda hot when he smiled… and he knew it.
He kept making her think of Wyn. And worse, making her miss him.
“You’re a big help.” Sora clapped him on the shoulder blade like she would with the Fenris marines, as she bypassed him to get herself a small pile of purple multigrain rice.
“I mean, I’ve got something else you can eat for lunch, if you’re interested.” Crane spoke in an undertone, as more NCOs approached the chow line. “Very filling, I promise.”
Sora shook her head with a smile, more amused than anything. A bunch of the Fenris marines made casual passes at her all the time, especially when she’d dated Wyn—mostly as a friendly banter. She kind of appreciated Crane’s persistence, but she could tell he’d started to annoy Novak. It was hard to avoid the feeling that Novak had maybe promised Hayden he’d look out for her. The Academy fraternity was strong between the guys… even guys who otherwise didn’t like each other.
“You’re cute, Crane.” Sora worked on making a salad on top of her rice. “We’ve got four weeks together here, and it’s only Day Two. Save your best lines for later, huh?”
It was her way of telling him to give it a rest, and it had always worked on the guys back on Fenris… if Wyn didn’t tell them to shut the fuck up first.
“You think these are my best lines?” Crane’s grin widened. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, beautiful.”
“Drop it, Crane,” Novak said suddenly, tone low and sharp. Okay. That was his XO voice.
Crane turned his attention on Novak. Ruoxian and Chana stood nearest, looking over with interest, and Sora cringed.
“What’s your problem, man?” Crane already sounded exasperated with him. “This has nothing to do with you, and we aren’t on a ship. You still think you gotta stick your nose in, huh? Why—because she’s an officer? What, man, pissing on your territory?”
This struck Sora as a little rich, considering the enlisted folks acting like a high school clique the night before, getting a chance to laugh at a couple of commissioned officers obviously trapped in here with them. Sora could tell Crane had a chip on his shoulder about this—like an inferiority complex or something.
Novak’s expression darkened; he stood stony and unmoving, brief violence moving through his eyes. “You better watch your goddamn mouth, or—”
“Don’t start with this shit, Crane,” Sora interrupted, before a real pissing contest got going. “He’s just looking out for me, not trying to say anyone’s better than you.”
“Looking out for you, huh? That what you officers call it when you want to fuck someone?” Crane kept his focus on Novak. He chuckled, the sound deep, rumbling, and dark. “Makes a lot of sense, actually.”
Sora rolled her eyes. She didn’t even want to see Novak’s response to this—she knew he’d had a crush on Cass for years back at school, and while he probably wouldn’t kick Sora out of his bunk if she ended up there, he didn’t have a thing for her. She knew a brother officer’s protectiveness when she saw it, and she could tell he was acting on some kind of weird loyalty to Hayden here, like word might get back to Cass that Novak was an upstanding guy. Adorable… and annoying.
“For fuck’s sake. I’m sitting down.”
Sora had her pick of tables, with everyone in line for chow, so she grabbed a melon soymilk and a table in the corner, sorting through her rice and chickpeas and rocket in shoyu-vinegar dressing, as well as her small pile of orange pickled beets. They reminded her of tiger’s eye, and the rocket leaves looked weirdly pretty—dark green, irregular, tinged with purple. They tasted like pepper.
Novak joined her maybe ninety seconds later, while Crane sat down at a table on the other side of the room with Sei and Ruoxian, glancing over at Novak with a glower. That told Sora everything she needed to know.
“Told him to pound sand, I guess?” Sora asked Novak quietly.
“You gotta stop encouraging his stupid ass,” Novak said immediately. “He’s not gonna stop until you make yourself clear.”
“I don’t mind him flirting, man.” Sora sorted her beets into her salad, after cutting them up smaller first. “Just, you know… maybe not every word that comes out of his mouth.”
Novak stabbed his canned pears with angry energy. “That’s not flirting, Kuromoto. He’s propositioning you, right out in the open, completely disrespecting you. Don’t you fucking care?”
Sora didn’t look up, not wanted to glare at him or piss off the closest thing she had to a friend in this godawful place.
“I hang out with marines all the time. They’re like that sometimes—kinda obscene and honest. They say stupid shit to each other, and if they say it to you, it means they’re comfortable.”
“You’re an LT.” Novak spoke low, eyes intense, urgent. “He should not be comfortable around you. Ever. Definitely not like that. You’re not a sex worker at the Joyplex, turning tricks to get a Bliss fix, and honestly, I’d want to punch him if he harassed them as much as he’s been harassing you.”
Sora let out a very long sigh, coming up for air and meeting his eyes. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her, like she made him sad, like he thought there was something wrong with her. Fucking hell. After everything else she’d said, why was this the thing that Novak couldn’t accept?
She opened her mouth to tell him she’d send Cass a recommendation letter heaping praises on his head, and she’d tell Hayden he was a fucking upstanding mensch, if he’d just stop being so goddamn protective… but the words died before they left her throat. She couldn’t stop seeing him, Cadet Jase Novak, the guy he’d been before, lurking just under this haunted, half-crazy XO with the cyber spine and heavy chrome killer legs. She kept seeing Jase, the guy she’d played Battlecross with, who was amazing at dancing games, who loved splattercore and always shared his drink with her.
Young Sora had really liked Jase Novak…. She’d always known he didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.
“Ugh.” Sora deflated, covering her eyes with her bio hand. “I’ll stop bantering with him. I don’t want Admiral Bryce to keep me back from returning to Fenris over some marine asking me to ride his dick.”
There was a moment of silence between them. She could tell Novak worried he’d gone too far.
“I’m not gonna report you to Kalgari or something, Kuromoto.” Novak’s body language changed, internally disarming as his shoulders fell and his muscles relaxed. “I’m just… I don’t even know what I’m saying. I hate seeing a female officer who’s been in the service for years getting treated like a sex piece. You’re better than that shit.”
No, I’m not, Sora’s brain countered immediately, dozens of guys tumbling through her memories. She wished she knew why she was only ever guilty about some of the guys she’d fucked, but none of the women. Maybe it was because there were a lot of guys she’d just sort of… allowed to have sex with her, without being super into them. She’d wanted them to want her—at first because it was fun, and later, on Sirius, because it gave her access to information. She’d never found herself on a scary-ass murderous pirate ship about to boff an alien in a woman’s shape, wondering what the fuck was wrong with her that it had come to this. When she regretted sex, it was always with someone thoroughly, aggressively, mesmerizingly, and even horribly masculine.
She’d told Cass absolutely everything, but she hadn’t told Hayden about Loren or all her slutting around on Sirius, and he probably knew she’d been lying by omission. Not telling him shamed her, especially because she’d told Cass, but it was still better than the alternative. She just didn’t want to tell him what she’d become with Loren, nor that she’d been an escort to a bunch of mobsters—it made her sick to think about Hayden looking at her and knowing those things.
I gotta stop thinking about this crap, before I get into a funk.
“What d’you think about our fellow inmates, huh?” Sora asked Novak, changing the subject and looking around at the fake mess hall full of patients.
Sei, Crane, and Ruoxian had a table, the two engineers sat together, and the scientists and medical types—Chana, Aki, and Viorel—had some sort of uneasy alliance at the middle table, talking quietly with lots of long pauses. The doctors spoke to one another in low tones at the fifth, their workpads out. Probably comparing notes.
“Fucking Viorel, man,” Novak confided. “Didn’t think these people could scare the crap out of me, but that was some wild shit he was talking.”
“Man. Sei shooting herself in the head,” Sora said in agreement, leaning her jaw into her one fleshy fist. “She’s too gorgeous for that.”
Novak smiled at her appreciatively. “She seemed nice enough, now her neural cybernetics are gone. And she was worried about you after they sent you out to the hall.”
Sora blushed. “Sorta nice having someone in the program who’s on the other side of her crazy. I feel a little bad for her though, being stuck here with all of us.”
“Aki’s kind of a scary-shit mess,” Novak said, dashing his eyes toward the middle table. “You ever heard of that? Sounds like he and Viorel both went through a personality change.”
“I mean, some of these people have more positronics than they should,” Sora guessed. “I don’t think that much neural architecture after brain trauma’s been tested extensively, you know? So I bet those two are on the cutting edge. How much you wanna bet they’re here for Kalgari and Wang to study them? Cuz I doubt four weeks of behavioral therapy and kumbaya shit’s gonna fix their problems.”
“Vintage Science Directorate,” Novak muttered, mixing his rice and Bombay jackfruit together, then adding chunks of pineapple and hot sauce. “You wanna try this? You might like it better. Pineapple cuts through the coconut yogurt shit slurry.”
“Sure,” Sora said gamely. “You wanna try my lame-ass rice salad?”
“Absolutely.” They clinked alipoline tined spoons and went for it, though Sora only took a small spoonful—she doubted pineapple and sriracha could fix her relationship with Bombay jackfruit. Stunningly, they did help, the pineapple’s acid and the hot sauce cutting through the curds a little.
“Actually, that’s not bad,” Sora admitted. “I could probably choke that down at mid if I had to—which is fucking saying something.”
“Glad Crane wasn’t at our table to hear you say that.” Novak offered a half-smile. “He’d say that he’s got something for you to choke down at mid, I bet.”
Sora laughed, loudly enough that Crane’s table glanced over at her, as did the doctors. Kalgari snickered a little, saying something to Dr. Wang, who nodded tightly and made a note in her workpad.
“Hey—why’d you shave last night?” Sora asked, the question suddenly occurring to her.
“Oh….” Novak focused on his plate, maybe embarrassed. “I don’t know. It grew in the last time I was in this fucking place, just a few months ago… mostly while I was half-conscious and bombed out on pain meds. When you mentioned you didn’t recognize me with a beard, I started thinking about it, and just… kinda wanted it gone all of a sudden.”
“Well… shave looks good too.” Sora shrugged. “Interesting seeing guys from the academy show up with beards. You got to the room yesterday and made me think of the stately captain types who used to come in and guest-lecture, you know?”
Novak snorted. “That’s a pretty nice way of telling me I looked old, Kuromoto. Thanks.”
Sora grinned. “You don’t know old officers, man. I used to serve under Captain Catfish. You’re fine.”
“Captain Sun? Yeah, Christ. Dude was so old, he probably pissed a puff of dust.” Novak met her eyes, then coughed, half laughing. “Sorry. I mean… he was… venerable. Storied career. Must have been an honor to serve with him.”
Sora laughed again at his back-pedaling, before she noticed Dr. Wang coming their way, sitting down without asking permission.
“Hello, you two.” Warm, honeyed, polite tone. Sora’s spine straightened. “Savin says you’ve been sticking together. It’s nice to see you’re making friends—or were you friends in the cadet program?”
“We both played water polo,” Sora explained quickly, suddenly worried about Kalgari and Wang splitting up the officers. I’m just getting to talk to him again, after seven years. “Spent a lot of time in locker rooms and buses together, not to mention games and practice and pick-ups. And we played a bunch of video games with the team during away games, celebrating and stuff.”
“Annapolis water polo’s known for partying,” Novak filled in. “So we ran in the same circles, partied together most weekends. I’m pretty sure you people knew that.”
Sora knew they were both, by silent agreement, playing down the extent to which they’d been buddies, the amount of time they’d spent together. She had a sense that if they up and said they’d used to watch a ton of movies together, played hours of video games at the VRcade, and wandered around together a ton, just them and maybe Novak’s roommate, the program might split them up. It warmed her that Novak also rushed to avoid the possibility.
“There’s a lot we can guess at, looking at records, but people aren’t always that easy to predict.” Dr. Wang eyed them both curiously. “We thought there was some small chance you might have dated, but we took the risk that you hadn’t.” She glanced at Sora’s plate and the remainder of her rice salad. “Not a fan of Bombay jackfruit? Today’s the first time I’ve had it as well.”
Sora leaned back in her chair. “Yeah, I never had it outside the navy. It’s a late-underway sort of food—the shit you have when the fresh stuff’s all out, and Cook’s trying to stretch supplies. How’d you like it, Doc?”
Dr. Wang made a small face. “Is it beloved?”
“No.” Sora and Novak said it at the same time.
“Even the academy doesn’t serve it,” Novak added. “It’s good for your program, though—real conversation starter. You got some kind of salty ex-CSO in your back pocket?”
Dr. Wang flashed a quick smile. “CSO—Culinary Services Officer, right? I’ve been slowly learning the lingo. You folks have five names for everything, you know.”
“Why have one name, when ten’ll do?” Sora asked. “Cass told me they sometimes call the cooks on V-classes ‘Doctor’ or ‘Chemist’, because they’re always doctoring the rations to make them edible.” She looked at Novak. “That true, or was she just bullshitting me?”
“I can’t imagine Cassidy Barca bullshitting you over something like that.” Novak’s eyes grew a little warmer than before, just thinking about Cass. Jeez, you could cook, freeze, and exsanguinate a guy, but some things never changed. “And anyways, it’s true. We used to call our guy on the Olrun ‘Paracelsus’, because he was a fucking alchemist.”
Dr. Wang laughed along with Sora here, then glanced between them. “That’s great; I love that. So… what did the two of you watch last night? Find some good action movies?”
Sora was still smiling about the alchemist thing, so it took a few seconds for the question to really sink into her brain. Being quicker on the uptake than her, Novak’s face suddenly turned serious.
“I had a feeling you guys were monitoring everything.” He sounded reserved, accepting, folding his arms over his chest tightly. “And action movies… they’re against the rules, I guess?”
“You can find the program’s rules on your tablets, right on the home screen,” Dr. Wang said. “Breaking onto the nurses’ network isn’t detailed there, but the rules do state that you’re to maintain and respect a full network break, beyond what the ward makes available to you. That means no unapproved movies—and no messages out to other officers.”
Novak narrowed his eyes for a second. “Right. So. What’s the deal around here? Some kind of write-up? Loss of privileges? Confinement?”
Dr. Wang adjusted, face still pleasant. “You’re required to follow the rules of the program, and severe violations and insubordination can and will be reported to Star Navy Command and to your COs. We’re also authorized to enforce the rules using our own nonjudicial disciplinary actions. So yes—write-ups, restrictions, loss of privileges, and confinement to Repose are all on the table.”
Sora swallowed. She’d fallen quiet with stun for a minute, not willing to believe the movies could be a huge deal, until Wang started talking NJP.
“I got Novak’s tablet onto the nurses’ network, not him.”
“We know.” Dr. Wang smiled sunnily. “Your skillset was a known risk.”
“What’s Repose?” Novak asked, cold and abrupt in his questions.
“Short for Room of Repose.” Dr. Wang straightened the cuffs of her Science Directorate lab coat, with its teal patches on both arms. “A room with one bed, where a patient can reflect for a few hours without distractions.”
Novak stared at the opposite wall, his face stony. “Iso. Got it.”
Dr. Wang didn’t gainsay him.
Sora pulled her shit together—brute-forcing the network on Novak’s tablet was her stupid fucking idea, and she had to deal with this.
“So what’s gonna happen? I can go to Repose. I’m the one who did it. Novak had no idea what I was—”
“He knew exactly what you were doing,” Dr. Wang interrupted her, still so sunny and polite that Sora wanted to heave. “You acted together, and you broke the rules together. This time, Jaesan’s tablet has been swapped out while we’ve been sitting here talking. He now has the same security on his tablet as you do, Sora. Furthermore, consider yourselves on notice. Don’t do it again.” She took a deep breath. “That’s all—nothing apocalyptic. I’ll see you when Group resumes.”
She stood from the chair she’d taken, then returned to Kalgari, who’d watched the whole exchange with an unreadable expression. When he caught Sora looking, he winked at her, making her turn away quickly.
“Sorry,” Sora told Novak in an undertone. “My brilliant fucking idea.”
Novak shrugged one shoulder, still steely. “I let you do it. We’ll find another way.”
Sora stared at him. “Um. Find another way to what?”
“To get onto the network, get messages out, and watch movies,” Novak said simply, eyes twinkling a little. “Seriously, fuck these people.”