Larla had already showed me lantana tea, the drink of choice for almost everyone on Epsilon. I didn’t know what crabbie was.
Ryon hoisted the body to its feet and put his arm under its shoulders. He walked it out. Any casual observers might think Ryon was helping a very drunk friend get home. I found it a bit weird that Ryon was so casual about this, but then again, he was probably used to dealing with bodies if it was his job.
Whatever he did next was his problem. I went into the kitchen and shone the torch around. It was hard to see the state of things, but I found the lantana tea. I assumed it was the same as normal tea, and looked for some way to make water hot. When I couldn’t find anything, I gave up and stood awkwardly in the living room until Ryon got back.
“You didn’t make tea.” The tone of his voice implied he’d wanted me to make some for him, too.
“I couldn’t find your kettle or cups,” I explained. “I didn’t know how else to make it.”
“Let me show you.” He led the way into the kitchen and pulled out cups from a tall shelf I hadn’t even noticed, because it was above my head.
“I can’t reach up there,” I pointed out.
“Oh.” He didn’t say anything else about it, but he placed the cups on the worktop and put some tea in each. Turning on what looked like the kitchen hot water tap, he put each cup under it and filled it with water.
“Ah, fuck, the powercut’s fucked up the hot water system.” He frowned in the torchlight then pulled out his blaster. My eyes widened. Was he one of those people who got violent when they were pissed off over really small things? I didn’t want to get shot today. Or any day.
“Best do this the old-fashioned way.” He aimed the blaster at a cup and shot it. I swear the cup flashed red for a moment before it began to steam. Relieved that he wasn’t going to hurt me, I moved closer and watched him shoot the second cup. It definitely flickered red. Wow. He was good at problem solving.
“Here.” He handed me a steaming mug. I took it, scrutinizing the contents. The leaves seemed to be floating around in the water. It wasn’t how Larla had made tea, with the food summoning machine on the spaceship. I was starting to feel unready for this.
“Thanks.” I couldn’t believe he’d just used his hot water tap to make the tea. That was so weird. As a child, I remembered my mum telling me never to drink from the hot tap. Now I thought about it, I had no idea why it bothered her. She’d never explained it, just like she’d never explained a lot of things. Why we had to switch off all the electric sockets and close the curtains during thunderstorms. Or why she had thought that tosser she shacked up with was the best thing ever. Why she had always believed him and not me.
I killed my thoughts before I dwelled on the reasons I hoped I never saw my mother again. This wasn’t about her. It was about the hot tap.
“Your tap water is boiling hot.”
He nodded. “The other was ice cold. But it broke. Now it’s just tepid.”
I didn’t ask why he had left it like that. I’d never lived anywhere where all the stuff worked like it was supposed to. Heating was the main thing that never worked. I suspected that the central heating in council houses was already broken from the day it was installed. And the kitchen cupboards. Wonky doors and wobbly handles. Always. Same with toilet seats.
No one ever fixed any of it. The problems just festered and more stuff decayed.
We sat in the dark sipping the lantana tea and not really saying much.
“You sleep in the bedroom.” He pointed at the other door that led from the living room.
“What about you?” Did he expect me to fuck him? No one had said we were supposed to be a couple, so I thought he was pushing his luck. I’d blow almost anyone, but I wasn’t going to have sex with him, he creeped me out. He’dkilledpeople. Not just in a fight. He was a killer. It was hisjob. And I was just a small-time criminal.
“I’ll take the couch.”
Okay, he didn’t want sex. Now I was struggling to understand why he was giving me the bedroom.
“Why?”
I didn’t want to take his bed. Not much seemed rude to me, but taking a man’s bed and making him sleep on his couch in his own homes was definitely out there.
“Not relevant.” He said nothing more and I got the impression the conversation was over.
Leaving my empty cup in the kitchen, I went into the bedroom. Unable to see anything in there, I just lay on top of the covers, fully-dressed. I curled up on my side and fell asleep. I’d learned to sleep anywhere.