"No, Julexi, I am apologizing. Whether you accept it or not, is your decision. As for the Council, nothing would make me happier than to have Pitoso and Segundo and the others back among us. But that's not going to happen. As much as we want it to, it's not. That leaves us with two options. We can be paralyzed by our husbands' absence and make no decisions whatsoever and float through the rest of our existence. Or we can adapt to this and still function as a family, and take control of where we're going. I prefer the latter option. And I st
rongly suspect that our husbands would prefer that, too."
Julexi burst into tears.
Rena had to bite her tongue. This is what Julexi always did when her arguments fell apart. The moment she realized that logic was against her, she resorted to her one defense mechanism. Tears.
She knew, of course, that this would silence any argument. All she had to do was open the floodgates and suddenly anyone who had held a contradictory position now found themselves taking Julexi into their arms and whispering words of comfort.
Rena had fallen for it the first few times Julexi had done it, especially shortly after losing the men. When any one of them would cry, Rena would swoop in and embrace them and hold them close. She felt like crying herself, and mourning together was one way to cope.
But Julexi had turned it into an art--probably without even realizing she was doing it. Her tears weren't fake, after all. As far as she was concerned, they were as real and warranted as all others. To suggest otherwise would be an offense.
"I'm sorry this is difficult for you, Julexi," said Rena. "And I'm sorry, Sabad, if you disagree with the decision Arjuna has made. I suggest you take it up with him. Now, if you'll excuse me."
She wedged her way between them and launched up the corridor.
But over the course of the day, as she worked in the helm with the navigators, Rena couldn't help but wonder if Julexi was right. Could they really do this? Repairing a broken heat coupler was one thing, installing a mining drill onto a salvage ship was quite another. None of the women had ever attempted such a thing. Segundo and Victor over the years had done all that.
Could Rena? Was she honestly capable of installing a lug processor, for example? Could she calibrate a digging stabilizer? And was the Gagak even structurally sound enough to house the needed equipment? What if it wasn't? When would they find that out? On their first official dig as the ship ruptures and breaks apart from the vibrations?
Oh Segundo, she thought. Am I doing the right thing? Is this truly what's best? Am I helping or hurting? You could probably look at this ship and know in an instant if such a thing was possible. I am lost without you, mi amor. Lost. Sometimes I feel confident about what we're doing, but most times I want to simply fly away and be alone. How I wish you were here, mi vida. Helping me, guiding me, holding me.
She imagined what it would be like if Segundo were here. He and Arjuna would likely be close friends. They were of a similar temperament. She could see the two of them laughing together. And at the end of the day Segundo and Rena would go back to their cabin--and yes, they would have their own cabin!--and the two of them would laugh at how foolish Sabad was being, and Segundo would sashay around the room and shake his chest the way Sabad did, and Rena would laugh and slap him playfully on the arm and tell him he was being mean.
"Rena?"
Rena looked up from the holoscreen she had been staring at.
Edimar, her niece, was floating beside her. Fifteen years old now, and looking more like Lola, her mother, every day. Edimar had been a close friend to Victor. She had been the one to first spot the Formic ship approaching the system using the ship's motion-detection telescope known as the Eye.
Edimar had always been a little girl in Rena's mind, isolated up there in the Eye of El Cavador, watching for collision threats and keeping them all safe.
But she was hardly a little girl now. The last year had seen a growth spurt. She was nearly a woman grown--tall, full chested, slender in the arms and legs. Not old enough to marry, of course, but old enough to give boys heart palpitations. It had happened once on the Gagak. One of the Somali boys her age had whistled at her, and Rena had quickly gone to Arjuna to put an end to it.
Rena smiled. "Mar, I'm sorry. I didn't you see there."
"Can I speak to you for a moment?"
"Of course."
They left the helm and went to the bay window at the bow of the ship. The immensity of space was before them. It was not a real window, of course--merely a projection from the cameras outside. But it looked real, and it must have reminded Edimar of the Eye, because Rena always found her here, floating at the window, staring outward, as if looking for something lost. Perhaps her sister Alejandra, Rena thought. Or her father Toron.
Edimar said, "I need you to ask Arjuna something for me."
"Okay."
"I know I can technically go to him myself. He's said as much. Anyone on board can approach him. But I'd rather you do it."
"All right."
"Now that we're on network, I want to get on the Parallax system."
Rena furrowed her brow. "Should I know what that is?"
"It's a group of telescopes orbiting the system. Juke set them up years ago. With them, scientists can look way out into deep space."
"Why have I never heard of this?"