"Good for them. You can tell my husband in the morning."
He's not just your husband, Rena wanted to say. He's Ubax's husband and Kaaha's husband, too, two of the other Somali women on board. You should use the plural possessive pronoun, Sabad, and say "our."
But Rena was not one to be petty--not out loud at least--so she simply said, "I apologize for the interruption, Sabad, but I think Arjuna would want to know this immediately."
"Do you claim to know the mind of my husband better than I do?"
"Of course not."
"Then go back to your little hive of spoiled children and leave us alone."
She began to close the door, but Rena stopped it with her hand. Normally Rena was mild-mannered and slow to rile, but Sabad was pushing the wrong buttons. The children from El Cavador were anything but spoiled. Those who were old enough to work did more on the ship in an hour than Sabad did in a day. Rena was just about to say as much when Arjuna appeared in the doorway. He was shirtless, and his black skin was almost invisible in the darkness. "What is it, Rena?" His voice was deep and froggy from sleep.
She told him about the laserline from Themis.
Arjuna considered a moment, then pulled himself out into the corridor and turned back to Sabad. "Go back to bed, Sabad. I will be there in a moment."
Sabad folded her arms. "Whatever you have to say to her, I can hear it, too."
"I said go back to bed, woman."
There was a bite in his tone, and Sabad relented. She gave Rena a final withering look then slammed the door in her face.
"She doesn't like me very much," said Rena.
"No. She doesn't. She thinks you're competition."
"Competition for what?"
"My affection."
Rena felt her cheeks flush.
Arjuna laughed softly. "Do not look embarrassed, Lady of El Cavador. I am not proposing marriage. I am telling you how a young woman's mind works. She has given me no children. She worries I will tire of her and turn to another."
"You do turn to another. Frequently. You have two other wives. I never know who I'm going to find in your room when I knock."
Arjuna shrugged. "It is hard to keep a schedule. I let the wives decide. There are many nights when none of them come to me. I can't say I blame them. It was much easier before you came. Each of the wives had her own room. I went to them. Now they share a room. The gods only know what they talk about."
Rena felt embarrassed. She had only thought of the inconvenience she and the family had been to the wives. She hadn't given much consideration to what it might mean to Arjuna. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean for us to cause marital strife."
Arjuna brushed the words away. "You have turned this ship into a moneymaker. That's what matters. This could be our biggest haul yet. All because of you."
It was true. A week ago they had come upon a derelict Juke vessel that appeared to be picked clean by vultures--which were aggressive salvagers who were little more than pirates. Arjuna was ready to dismiss the ship, but Rena had encouraged him to investigate it nonetheless. "Vultures often ignore the smaller parts in their rush to gut the ship," Rena had said. "Half the time they don't know what they're looking for. It won't hurt to look a little closer."
/> It hadn't hurt. They had found the drive system mostly intact, and the oxygen generator had needed only minor repairs. Those two parts alone should earn them more than all of their other salvages combined.
"We can't afford a subscription," said Arjuna. "One hundred credits a week is ridiculous. No salvage ship can afford that. We barely make enough to eat."
"They don't expect us to pay a hundred a week. They expect us to talk down the price."
"To how much?"
"Half that. Maybe as low as forty."
"Which we still can't afford. And Earth is a long way away. What good would the news do us here?"
"It's Earth," said Rena. "It's our home."