The Cold Between. Elizabeth Bonesteel

      “Old my ass,” she declared, turning back to her task. “I didn’t sleep.”

      “Yeah? How long?”

      “Six hours, give or take.”

      He shook his head in wonder. “Jessica is going to tell everyone on board, and the comms guys are going to stare at you like cats in heat for a month.”

      She stopped and turned back to him. “Actually,” she said hesitantly, “I was thinking of telling Jess I hid in some dive hotel alone all night.”

      “You think you can sell that?”

      “Can’t I?”

      “Let’s see.” He considered her. “Stop smiling so much.”

      She drew her lips together and tried to look serious.

      “Stand up straighter. Be military.”

      She stood at attention.

      “Now stop humming.”

      She had not realized she was still doing it. Swallowing a grin, she complied.

      He shrugged. “That’s not bad. Of course,” he added, as she went back to the preflight, “that big-ass hickey on your neck pretty much gives the game away.”

      Elena put a hand to her throat. Sure enough, there was a tender spot under her left ear. She glared at Ted, who put up his hands in self-defense.

      “Don’t yell at me,” he objected. “I didn’t bite you.”

      The others trickled in as she worked, ticking their names off at the wall terminal. Fifteen minutes from departure she had twenty-one; not a bad showing from a roster of thirty. Most of the stragglers were from the Demeter crew; the few who had already arrived waited outside the shuttle for their friends, talking to each other in low voices and falling silent every time a Galileo soldier walked by. Elena did not understand them. Enthusiastic friendship was hardly required, but Demeter’s borrowed soldiers seemed intent on open hostility between the two crews. She should have asked the bay officer to assign them a dedicated shuttle, but she supposed that made her no better than they were.

      Belatedly it occurred to her that Danny might be on this shuttle as well, and would hear how she had spent her evening. Well, she had made it clear to him when she turned down his invitation the day before that he had no claim on her any longer. He had thrown that away all on his own.

      She had finished her check of the ship’s air seals and was turning to look for the dispatcher when she came face-to-face with Jessica, who had crept up silently behind her. Despite the fact that Jessica was likely just as hungover as Ted, she looked perfect: coppery hair tamed away from her face, expression bright-eyed and alert, the picture of a disciplined officer. Except that she was staring at the bruise on Elena’s neck, her expression cheerfully curious.

      “So,” she asked, “did you find someone else?”

      Elena shook her head, and saw her friend’s eyes widen slowly. “Seriously?” she said, nearly shrieking. “You fucked a pirate? Those guys are dangerous.” Jessica was looking at her friend with naked admiration. “You are out of your mind. So how was he?”

      Elena thought of all the ways she could answer that. She thought of the night behind her, of how he had touched her, of how he had spoken to her. She searched until she found the right word.

      “Thorough,” she said.

      Jessica stomped with impatience. “Elena Marie Shaw, after all the years we’ve known each other, all you’re going to give me is ‘thorough’?”

      Elena considered. “Extremely thorough,” she amended.

      Departure time neared and they were still down four. It was Jessica who cleared up the discrepancy for her. “Someone said Foster pulled the infantry guys back early,” she said. “Didn’t say why.”

      Elena frowned. Jessica seemed unconcerned, but Elena didn’t think Greg would have pulled any of them back early without a solid reason. If it had been an incipient emergency, he would have told all the senior officers, but she could not shake her unease. He would be awake when they got home; no matter how acidic he insisted on being, she would have to ask him.

      Greg never took shore leave—captain’s privilege, he always said. Six months ago she would have cheerfully stayed home with him, enjoying his quiet company. As things stood, though, it had been easy for her to decide to leave. Their friendship had been strained for half a year, and the public argument they’d had two weeks ago had undone the last of her equanimity. If she had stayed behind, she would have run into him, and he would have goaded her into shouting at him again. Losing Danny should have hurt more than losing Greg, but she had so few true friends in her life. Lovers were easy; she felt she had left Danny behind already.

      Greg was not so easily replaced.

      She climbed onto the shuttle and settled into the pilot’s seat to steer them out of the main hangar. The morning sun blazed through the front window, and in deference to Ted’s quiet groan she engaged the polarizer. She angled them upward, keeping the incline gentle as they transitioned from the planet’s gravity to the ship’s artificial field. The sky darkened quickly as they rose through the clouds, and then the stars came out. She brought them around to the planet’s night side, and there, sleek and streamlined, graceful as a swan with wings outstretched, drifted the CCSS Galileo. Her ship. Her home.

      Galileo had been state-of-the-art once, seven years ago, when she had first been christened. Even now, with all of the larger, faster ships that had been deployed since, the little craft was a gem, although Elena acknowledged she might not be entirely objective. Certainly the ship’s hull bore some battle scars, the sleek metallic surface discolored and battered here and there; but she could still outfight a vessel twice her size, and even with a slower top speed, she was faster off the mark than any ship that had been built since.

      Demeter was both newer and larger, outfitted with cutting-edge tech out of Ellis Systems’ research branch, and Elena overheard her crew make disparaging comments about Galileo from time to time. She let it go, aware of where her own loyalties would lie if their positions were reversed. They were lucky they didn’t have to deal with Commander Jacobs, her old boss, who would have slapped them down publicly and succinctly, and with more than a few insults. Jake had always been impolitic and passionate, and in the year since his death she found she missed that part of him the most.

      Only a year ago. Just a year. A year ago Jake, not Elena, had been chief of engineering, and she had been content working for him. A year ago she had had Danny to keep her warm, and Greg to keep her sane. Now she had none of them, all lost, one way or another. In recent months she had considered transferring off of Galileo, leaving behind all of the pain and alienation and starting over on another ship. But on this morning, flying home with a night’s worth of warm memories, that choice seemed ridiculous. How would her life look different if she went somewhere else? Leaving was an overreaction. It was giving up, and she had never been one to quit.

      She hailed her ship. “Galileo, this is Exodus One requesting hangar access.”

      “Exodus One, Galileo. Shuttle hangar seven. Welcome back, Lanie. You missing anybody?”

      “Nobody but the infantry.”

      “Well, you’re ten minutes late. Hurry up before you all miss breakfast.”

      Elena glanced around the cabin. “I don’t think you’re going to have a lot of takers on the food.”

      The comms officer cackled, and beside her, Ted groaned again. “Would you people please stop laughing?” he said plaintively.

      Elena resisted the urge to pat him on the head, then transferred the shuttle’s control to Galileo and let the autopilot bring them home.

      Trey took his time walking to work. It was nearly 6:30, and he was already an hour