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    Priestess of the Eggstone
    Priestess of the Eggstone
    Priestess of the Eggstone
    Ebook401 pages6 hours

    Priestess of the Eggstone

    By Jaleta Clegg

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    It isn't Dace's fault she leaves chaos everywhere she goes. She didn't know Belliff, the company who hired her to courier sensitive materials, is a front for the Targon Crime Syndicate. Now Targon is after her for stealing their shipment of smuggled goods. The Patrol is chasing her for piracy, smuggling, and disruption of trade on a dozen different planets. But that's nothing. Her copilot, Jerimon, has an entire sentient species chasing him for stealing their god, the Eggstone. The two of them set off on a desperate chase to get the Eggstone back to avert war with the Sessimoniss while evading the Patrol and the Targon Syndicate. But the Eggstone isn't just any rock. The Patrol isn't chasing her for the reasons she thinks. And Targon's days are numbered.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJaleta Clegg
    Release dateOct 21, 2016
    ISBN9781370756117
    Priestess of the Eggstone
    Author

    Jaleta Clegg

    I love telling stories ranging from epic space opera to silly horror to anything in between. I've had numerous stories published in anthologies and magazines. Find all the details of my space opera series at http://www.altairanempire.comFor the latest updates on my stories, check out my webpage at http://www.jaletac.comMy current day job involves teaching kids to play the piano. I also love piecing quilts together, crocheting tiny animals, and watching lots of bad 80s movies.

    Read more from Jaleta Clegg

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      Book preview

      Priestess of the Eggstone - Jaleta Clegg

      Prelude

      The office on Herifon was the same as a thousand other Patrol offices. Dusty gray cabinets lined one faded yellow wall. A battered desk with a chair on each side occupied the center of the room. Gray fibermat so old it showed wear covered the floor. The one small window looked out on acres of weedy, cracked landing pads. The heat in the room contrasted sharply with the chill between the two men occupying the office.

      Commander Grant Lowell propped his booted feet on the desk's uneven surface. He wore a mechanic's overalls, stained and faded with wear. Nothing about him gave any hint of his rank.

      The office’s other man wore the black uniform of the Patrol Enforcers, the clusters of gold on his collar placing him fairly high in their ranks. He slouched against the windowsill, wondering why he’d been honored with a visit from Commander Lowell. He’d only recently been released from medical treatment, and was still on leave for a few days. His gaze followed a plume of dust trailing over the deserted landing field.

      I need you, Tayvis. Lowell broke the hostile silence. You are the best, make that the only, man for the job.

      I don't want it. Tayvis turned from the bleak landscape to face Lowell. Your last assignment almost got me killed. Dadilan was a death trap and you knew it, but you sent me anyway with no backup.

      You didn't die. You completed the mission successfully.

      Because of a lucky accident.

      That is quite an apt description of Dace, isn't it?

      Leave her out of your meddling, Lowell.

      A grin spread slowly over Lowell's face like a puddle on plascrete. They weren't exaggerating about the two of you, were they?

      Tayvis planted his hands on the desk, looming over the seated Lowell. Leave her out of whatever you're planning.

      I can't. Lowell's grin disappeared.

      Then find someone else!

      There isn't anyone else.

      Tayvis glared for a long moment. I'm not looking for her unless you tell me why you want her.

      I don't need you to find her, I know exactly where she is. I need you to convince her to work for me. One assignment.

      Tayvis sighed, rubbing the stiffness in his side with one hand. Details, Lowell.

      I need her on Tivor.

      Tayvis shook his head. Do you know how much she hates her homeworld?

      I can guess. I really don't have a choice. I need to know the situation on Tivor. I can't get an agent in.

      Why her? She's not the only street orphan to make it off Tivor.

      Actually, she is. Lowell punched a button on the console built into the desk. Information bloomed under his fingers. A picture of a slender woman wearing an Academy uniform floated on the screen. Her face was plainer than ordinary with no expression except for a haunted look in her eyes. I thought you read her file.

      What does that have to do with this? Tayvis watched the picture dissolve, his hands curling into fists at his side.

      Lowell scrolled through the text. He didn't miss the flicker of longing that flashed across Tayvis' face as the picture disappeared.

      Zeresthina Dasmuller. Lowell shifted from the screen to the other man's face. She changed her name to Dace as soon as she legally could. Do you know why?

      Tayvis shook his head. I didn't read her juvy record. It was privacy sealed and I saw no reason to pry. I didn't exactly have much free time on Dadilan.

      I did what I could, Tayvis. The whole situation was impossible. I didn't find out how bad it was until after you were down.

      Now you apologize. Dace is the one you should apologize to. I heard about the charges filed against her. You should have paid her instead.

      It's over, Tayvis. I pulled all the strings I could to get her off without a criminal record.

      And now you want to tangle her up in another mess.

      Lowell shrugged.

      Find someone else!

      There isn't anyone, as I said before. They locked stares over the desk. I can't just dress someone up and send them in, Tayvis.

      Why not?

      Dace, born Zeresthina Dasmuller, is the daughter of Lirondalla Murberretton.

      The resistance leader during the food riots? Tayvis sat heavily on the other chair. It creaked in protest. And they let her live?

      They wouldn't now. The Tivorian government twenty years ago was relatively humane. Lowell blanked the screen.

      You send her to Tivor, they'll kill her.

      I can protect her. It would only be for a short time, long enough to cause a few riots and get the Patrol sent in. You're the only one who can convince her. I need her to go willingly.

      No.

      One assignment, Tayvis. I'll even send you with her. Then you both resign with enough money to buy your own planet.

      No!

      Charges can be reinstated. Would you rather have her sentenced to Basra? Most women last less than two months there.

      How can you sleep at night, Lowell?

      If you won't persuade her, I will be forced to threaten her with Basra. I need her on Tivor.

      Tayvis flexed his hands, face twisting as if he'd bitten into a bitter fruit. I hate you, Lowell. I'll do it, under protest. But if she dies, I will hunt you down and find a dozen ways to make you wish you had died instead.

      Lowell shivered under the force of Tayvis' glare. He briefly wondered if Tivor was really worth what it might cost. Years of training and habit squashed the doubts before they became anything more than a brief instant of regret.

      She's working for a shipping company as a courier pilot. Your leave is extended indefinitely. The normal arrangements for expenses have been made. The scout ship in berth forty-seven is waiting for you.

      What would you have done if I'd refused, Lowell? Would you really have made good on your threat?

      The two men locked eyes, cold and unflinching.

      Tayvis broke first. Were you born without a heart? His boots made little noise as he left the room. The door slammed with a thin crack of sound. Swirls of dust filtered through the air.

      Lowell stared at his worn boots, still propped on the desk. Necessity forced him to do things he detested. He worked for the greater good. The price was a few lives disrupted. Wasn't that better than thousands, millions of lives?

      The dusty room held no answers.

      Chapter 1

      Captain Dace?

      I glanced up from the stack of papers piled on the table. I'd been sitting in a tiny room of the local branch of the Independent Traders' Guild for the last three days looking for a co-pilot. Out of the thirteen applicants so far, none of them were qualified to tie their shoes much less fly a spaceship. I'd been stuck on Rucal for almost two months, long enough to work out a contract with Belliff, Inc., but their contract didn't include a copilot and regulations required one, so I was looking on my own.

      The man waiting in the doorway was short, slender, almost too good-looking to be real. Tayvis was better, a little voice in my mind whispered. I squelched that thought. Tayvis was a Patrol Enforcer, tall, well-muscled, the perfect image off the recruiting posters. He was also out of my life.

      I heard you were looking for a pilot. The man handed me a paper before sitting in the rickety chair across the table.

      I skimmed his application. His name was Jerimon Pai, no home planet listed, and he was a fully qualified pilot. I flipped through his papers, not trusting my luck in finding him.

      I want to see your personal file. What I asked was definitely rude and only borderline legal.

      He looked surprised but pulled out his ID plates, sliding them into the terminal set in the wall over the table. He typed in the password codes then sat back.

      I scrolled through his file, glancing over past ship postings. I didn't see anything suspicious. I closed his file. Sorry, I apologized, I've just had bad luck hiring crew before.

      Does this mean I've got the job?

      I nodded. It's a courier ship, you and I are the only crew. We fly at the whim of Belliff, Inc. My contract term with them is seven years, at the end of which I own the ship. You technically work for me. You have your choice of salary, though I can't offer much, or a percentage of profits and a share in the ship. I paused, something felt off kilter but I couldn't put my finger on it. First trip is a trial period to see if this is going to work out. Your pay is free passage to wherever we get sent.

      He nodded. He didn't ask questions, which made me a little nervous. Everything I'd offered him was standard contracting procedures on an Independent ship, though. I shrugged the feeling away.

      Where are we going?

      Tebros. Lift off in three hours. The ship is in slot five-oh-nine.

      The name of the ship?

      I could barely bring myself to say it. As soon as the ship was mine I was going to rename it. Twinkle.

      I'll be there in an hour. He nodded politely as he left.

      He hadn't cracked a smile. I worried at the edges of his application while I thought. Most spacers would throw fits over such a dumb name. I was surrounded by snickers and rude remarks from the dock crew every time I walked past. Jerimon Pai hadn't even seemed to notice. I examined his papers trying to find something to justify my sense of unease.

      His last job was piloting for a transport company. Nothing unusual there. His contract term had expired and he had left, or so the paper said. He was twenty-four. His voice was cultured and smooth as Sirian silk, surprisingly deep. His short hair was jet black, with blue highlights under the lights. My mind filled in more details than I thought I'd noticed.

      He had only glanced up briefly during the short interview, showing dark lashes and just a hint of blue. His hands were elegant, fingers moving gracefully over the keypad as he entered his information. He exuded competence and polish. His face could make grown women swoon, if he were in vids. He made my skin crawl but I was prejudiced against handsome men. I didn’t have much of a choice, he was the only person even close to qualified.

      Pushing the uneasy feelings away I stood, shoving the stack of applications into the disposal slot. I could always dump him on Tebros.

      I left the Guild office, crossing the port to file the necessary papers, once at the registry board, again at Belliff, and in triplicate back at the Guild office.

      Jerimon was waiting at the ship when I finally made it to the docking bay. A single duffel bag slumped against his leg, probably everything he owned. The dock workers made their usual rude commentary. I thumbed the lock, ducking through before the door finished opening. Jerimon followed me inside. I shut the hatch, closing off the dock workers' suggestive remarks.

      The hatch opened onto the crew quarters, a space about six feet wide and maybe ten long. It held two bunks, a couple of storage lockers, a compact galley, a tiny fold-out table, two chairs, and personal facilities. Forward was the cockpit, with room for two pilots and a navigator if you really pushed it. I didn't want to push it. Belliff management provided preprogrammed disks for the nav comp as part of the contract.

      Aft was a small cargo bay, about the same size as the living quarters, and access to the engine. The cargo bay was currently full of crates that needed to be on Tebros within the week. From what I gathered listening to the talk at Belliff, shipments had been disappearing. Hiring a courier made sense. If cargo turned up missing or damaged, it came out of my hide. I made certain the papers were in order and no one touched the cargo but me after I'd inspected it. I'd insist on the same procedure when we reached Tebros.

      You can have that locker and the top bunk. I pointed to the storage cubby next to the two stacked bunks.

      I checked the seals on the cargo while Jerimon stowed his gear. I opened the access panel into the engine compartment. The engine was pretty much self-contained, designed to be replaced in chunks rather than repaired. I checked fluid levels. Everything came up normal.

      Jerimon sat in the cockpit running the first of the flight checks. I slid into my seat and started down my list, pulling on the headset. This was the first time I'd ever flown the ship. The ink on my own contract was barely dry. I flipped on the com and called up the flight tower.

      Rucal Tower One, this is Twinkle. I suffered through a round of snickering. Belliff filed a flight plan this morning, I'm activating it. Request permission for liftoff.

      Flight plan is registered and activated. You're clear for liftoff at fourteen twenty-two. Tower control paused. Is your ship really named Twinkle?

      Their name, not mine. Liftoff time acknowledged at fourteen twenty-two. I shut off the mike.

      Jerimon watched me, his face bland.

      What? I expected him to say something about the ship's name. I was going to have words with someone at Belliff headquarters about it.

      Are you ready to test the main drive?

      Just about. I checked a few more readouts and flipped a few more switches.

      Have you flown this ship before? he asked as he watched me double-check the list and hunt for switches on the control panel.

      First flight for both of us. I found the right switch. The light above it faded from yellow to green. Just let me check the disk. I swiveled my chair to the side and slid the disk with our flight plan into the nav comp. The computer beeped and chuckled to itself. Have you flown one like this before?

      Pretty close. He checked a couple of switches over his head. Drives at one-tenth power. Holding green.

      The computer burped. The screen told me the program was valid and accepted. Unless someone at Belliff had screwed up, it would take us to Tebros. We should be there within four days. The ship vibrated quietly, the engines running smoothly.

      Five minutes to liftoff. I turned back to the controls. I was confident I could fly it. I'd qualified on eighteen different ships when I was at the Academy less than a year ago. A courier ship didn't present much challenge.

      Jerimon flipped switches and set sliders. The engine's rumbling grew in pitch and volume. The lights stayed green. I made the final call to the tower and confirmed liftoff. The ship rattled as we lifted free of Rucal's gravity.

      Seven moons and three sets of rings orbited the planet, a cluttered mess to navigate. Jerimon flipped on the shields once we cleared atmosphere. Dust sparked and crackled as it hit. I watched the show on the viewscreen, keeping an eye out for big rocks. We had at least two hours of flying before we would be clear enough to risk jumping to hyperspace. As long as we kept the shields up and an eye on the scanner so we could avoid the big stuff, it was routine flying. I twitched the thrusters to one side to avoid a chunk of ice three times the size of the ship.

      The engines purred, a subliminal vibration. Air hissed through the filters. I relaxed in my seat. I was back in space, where I belonged.

      What are we carrying? Jerimon asked after a while.

      Some kind of computer control. As long as the seals on the crates are intact when we land, I don't much care. We only get paid if they arrive untampered. I checked the scans again then made a slight correction to our course. Do you mind if I ask why you chose Rucal to end your contract?

      I was doing piece work, flying whatever, wherever for a couple of weeks, looking for something more permanent. He adjusted the shield levels. The viewscreen crackled with dust.

      Are you moving on at Tebros?

      He shrugged. Depends. Are you going to kick me off?

      Depends. Do you snore?

      Not that anyone's ever complained about.

      Then I probably won't. Maybe I was being too cautious. Why don't you have a home planet listed in your file?

      I was born in space. I've never found a planet I wanted to claim. What about you? Where are you from?

      How easy is it to remove or change your planet of origin? I don't want to claim the one I was born on.

      I don't know, I've never tried. What planet was that?

      Tivor.

      He stared blankly. Never heard of it.

      I wish I hadn't.

      Why not? What can be so bad about it? He sounded as if he really had no idea.

      You never heard of the food riots? Tivor's government runs everything on Tivor. They'd tried to make me a model citizen and I hadn't cooperated. Tivor wanted its women quiet, docile, and obedient. Life hadn't been easy or fair on Tivor. I didn't want to discuss my personal hangups with a man I barely knew. I switched subjects.

      We discussed politics while we dodged asteroids and watched dust flash against the shields. The shield indicators flickered yellow a few times, but mostly stayed green. Belliff didn't stint on their equipment. Jerimon relaxed the farther we strayed from personal topics. I thought it odd but not worrisome.

      We rounded the last big moon into clear space. I checked the nav program one last time, to make sure we were headed the right direction before we jumped. The chatter of local pilots was steady as a background noise that dissolved into static as we passed into the moon's shadow. The ship lurched, then slowed, the engines whining.

      I flipped switches, trying to find the problem. Jerimon pushed the thrusters all the way to the stops. The engine whine rose in pitch. The ship shuddered. The emergency lights flashed. Warnings hooted through the ship.

      Shut it down! I yelled over the noise.

      Jerimon stubbornly tried to pull more power from the engines. His face was pale and his chin set as he goosed the throttles. I reached across the controls to slam the switches off. Jerimon slumped in his chair, hands over his face. The engines spun down. The alarms shut up, all except one. It was a quiet, insistent beeping with a single, flashing red light.

      I checked the screen, then muttered a curse at the unknown vessel showing on the scans. Who'd be using a tractor beam out here?

      The ship was bigger, but that didn't mean much. Anything was bigger than my ship. The scanners didn't show any ID traces from the other ship.

      Does it look like pirates to you? Pirates weren't uncommon in this sector but Rucal had a major Patrol station out beyond the moons. What pirate would be stupid enough to operate under the Patrol's nose?

      I knew of at least one, but he was in prison. I scowled at the screen. In a few moments, I wouldn't need the scanner. I could just look outside.

      Jerimon dropped his hands to his lap, staring bleakly at the monitor. If he didn't know who was on that ship, I'd eat my socks—the ones I'd been wearing for three days without washing because I hadn't found the time.

      Who are they and why are they dragging us in?

      Jerimon shook his head, eyes locked on the approaching ship. He gripped the chair so hard his knuckles went white.

      A grappling arm locked onto the metal hull with a loud clank.

      I had a blaster somewhere in my gear. It wasn't technically legal but after what I'd been through on Dadilan, I felt much better with one somewhere close. I tore off my restraints then scrambled out of the cockpit.

      I slammed open the locker, digging through the jumbled contents. I burrowed frantically, tossing clothes onto the floor. The air lock hissed open. I reached the bottom but still hadn't found my blaster. I grabbed a tunic, shaking it out before shoving it back inside.

      Boots clomped on the deck. I stood, leaving the locker hanging open, my clothes strewn over the floor. Jerimon waited in the doorway to the cockpit, his face pale. I stood between him and the airlock. I turned slowly.

      Five non-humans edged into the ship. The shortest one stood seven feet and a bit. They were reptilian, their skin gray-green and lightly scaled. Crests of spines rose erect across their heads and down the back of their necks. Their yellow eyes narrowed in the white lights of the cabin. They had no visible ears, their noses were almost psychic.

      The one in front raised an elongated, bony hand and pointed. It wore a garishly bright scarlet tunic; the others wore black with a weird emblem worked in gold on the left shoulder. Where is it? What have you done with it, human?

      Jerimon swallowed hard, clinging to the doorframe as if it were a lifeline. It was obvious he knew what these creatures wanted. I was going to beat the information out of him as soon as I got rid of them.

      I turned on the leader, planting my hands on my hips. The creature loomed, the spines of its crest almost brushing the ceiling. I refused to let it intimidate me. What do you want on this ship? You are in violation of all free trade regulations.

      Silence! The leader dismissed me, raising his slit-pupiled glare to Jerimon. Where is the Eggstone?

      I don't know. Jerimon's voice cracked with strain.

      Perhaps this will sharpen your memory. The creature's hand shot forward, bony claws digging into my shoulder. It pulled me close, forcing my face into its tunic. I struggled but the lizard-creature was too strong. It smelled odd, a weird mix of sharp plant and musty animal. The claws twitched once, digging furrows through my shoulder.

      She has nothing to do with this. Let her go. Jerimon took one step forward.

      I had to give him points for chivalry, but it was too little too late. I twisted my head to the side, sneezing at the scent. I pushed against its torso, fighting for my space.

      The creature flexed its claws. She is with you. Return the Eggstone to us.

      I can't. Jerimon ducked his head. I sold it.

      The claws jerked closed. I stifled a moan as blood dripped down my shoulder.

      You defile our sacred place and steal the Eggstone, only to sell it as a common thing?

      The creature's smell sharpened. The claws flexed again. This time I couldn't keep the moan in. Red splotched the front of my shipsuit.

      You shall return the Eggstone or you shall face the altar of Sekkitass. This shall remind you. The claws shredded my shoulder.

      Needles of hot fire lanced through skin and muscle, clear to the bone. I crumpled to the floor when it released me. White hot sheets of pain spread from my shoulder followed by a strange numbness.

      The creature turned its back, its companions already entering the airlock.

      Sessimoniss! Jerimon dropped to the deck beside me. Give me the antidote.

      She will not die. She has but tasted of the poison. Return the Eggstone.

      I heard the airlock hiss shut through ears that rang and buzzed. My eyes would no longer focus. Jerimon's face loomed over me, his forehead creased with worry. Waves of ice and fire swept through my body.

      Blast it! I hated Jerimon. I'd been suckered again, hiring a troublemaker. I struggled to curl one hand into a fist.

      Jerimon touched the bloody mess of my shoulder. The pain reached a new level of agony and I passed out.

      Chapter 2

      I spent most of the next few days drifting through hallucinations, talking to people I knew couldn't be there. Miss Hadley, the orphanage director from Tivor, kept appearing, telling me all of this was my fault because I'd neglected oral hygiene. I had some bad moments when I thought I was back on Dadilan. The few lucid minutes I had were full of Jerimon's worried expression.

      He had the most incredible blue eyes; the deep, vivid blue of skystones. Every few years one or two skystones would appear on the market, cut and polished. Rumor had it they came from deep space outside of the Empire. It was a trader's dream to find their source, although nobody I’d ever talked to knew what they looked like uncut. The traders that brought them to market refused to say anything.

      The engine changed pitch, dragging me from a strange dream full of blue eyes and lectures on oral hygiene and horses. The ship slid out of hyperspace. I was limp as a wet rag, drained of energy. My shoulder ached ferociously. The ship settled into sublight, the engines shifting to a different rhythm. I struggled to lift my head.

      Where are we?

      Jerimon emerged from the cockpit. Good, you're awake, he said as he fished a juice container from the dispenser. We're on approach to Tebros. He popped the top off the container , offering it to me.

      I tried to sit. I was too weak and dizzy. Jerimon slipped his arm around my shoulders and lifted me, careful of the wad of bandages coating my shoulder. He steadied the container in my shaky grip. I hated being so helpless. I pushed the empty cup away irritably then sagged onto the bunk. Jerimon stepped back, shoving the cup into the disposal.

      I think you owe me an explanation. I shifted, easing the itching under the bandage.

      Jerimon hunched his shoulders. I don't suppose you'd believe me if I said you had a bad case of spacer's flu.

      I shook my head then wished I hadn't. The cabin faded to gray and black. I passed out before I heard his answer.

      When I woke again the engines were off and Jerimon was gone. I dragged myself out of the bunk to the facilities, using walls and furniture to keep me upright. I managed to shower without passing out. It took me five tries to finally open my locker to retrieve clean clothes. I didn't have the energy to peel the bandages off and check my shoulder. I had just enough to fall on the bunk and back asleep.

      I woke again when Jerimon came in. He carried a stack of thin boxes, each sealed with the Belliff stamp. He passed me as he moved to stow them in the cargo bay.

      Did you get signatures on the other boxes? I asked when he came back.

      Yes, I got all the signatures, I have the right papers. They seemed so happy to get the delivery that they even paid me. He waved a plastic chit in front of my face. The only problem is it's in your name. I can't touch any of it and there are people in the dock offices asking for their fees.

      I groaned. This was something I had to deal with. Fortunately I could manage it from the ship. I tried to get off the bunk. I fell on the floor.

      Help me get to the com, I demanded irritably. My legs were rubber. I couldn't seem to find the right orientation either. Up wavered depending on how my head was spinning.

      Jerimon slung my good arm around his shoulder and helped me to the com unit. I sprawled over the chair, waiting for my head to quit insisting that up was somewhere on the wall. I thumbed the numbers into the unit, transferring half the funds into a joint account stored in the ship's memory banks. The other half stayed on the chit which went into my private safe. Jerimon should have access to plenty of money for things we needed that Belliff didn't provide as part of the contract.

      I put a call in to their offices next.

      It took me ten minutes to get past all the secretaries and talk to the person who actually had authority. The woman kept typing while she talked, not even glancing at the vidscreen.

      Captain Dace, is it? I heard you had some kind of accident. Your copilot was here with the packages. Very competent young man. What is it you needed to talk to me about? She glanced up from her work. She frowned. I don't have time for prank calls. I thought I was speaking to your captain, not some junior assistant. She reached for the cutoff switch.

      I am Captain Dace, I said. I'm calling about our contract.

      What about it? Her frown deepened.

      I gripped the chair arms, I was going to fall out of the chair any moment. My head spun and I had to concentrate to find words. Part of the arrangement was Belliff paying the docking fees. Why are they bothering me to pay them?

      They have been paid. She snapped off the unit. I slowly slid from the chair. Jerimon caught me just before my face hit the control panel.

      He dragged me over to the bunk.

      Don't pay anything, except food, I managed to say through the multicolored haze that tried to suck my brain away. Jerimon's face loomed over me, his blue eyes bright. Belliff is supposed to pay everything else. Am I dying?

      You're getting better. He tugged the bandages on my shoulder.

      I didn't object. I had no energy to care. My eyes slid shut.

      I slept through takeoff and the jump into hyperspace. When I regained consciousness, the engines vibrated gently through the cabin walls. I made it to the facilities without having to catch myself.

      Jerimon was sitting at the galley table when I came out, rolling a drink container from hand to hand. He looked tired. I collapsed into the chair across from him. He didn't look up from the drink container.

      "Is there

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