Aurelia

I wake up to the daily morning announcement by Illion. There’s none of his usual humour in it, just a very bland, stark ‘good morning now get to work’.

Moaning tiredly, I roll off the side of the bed onto the fluffy carpet with a bump. One hand reaches up to the bedside table to grab my phone.

Illion’s somehow got my phone number, probably off Lolli-N – but there’s no new messages.

He must not be feeling well; he was acting weird last night too. Probably because of the invasion. It hasn’t really sunk in for me yet. It doesn’t even feel real.

There’s nothing I can do about it anyway, but he didn’t have to abandon me this morning. Well, he’s the captain, so maybe that isn’t very fair of me to say.

I dial Enea’s number. At least someone will still go to breakfast with me.

“Auri!” Enea’s voice pierces the quiet of the room, screeching through my phone speaker, “what’s up big sis?”

I lean against the edge of the bed, rubbing my temple to fight my growing headache, “want to go to breakfast this morning?”

“Uhhh, well, guess what!”

“What?” Oh great. Another Enea adventure. I wonder who it is this time.

“So, guess who hit me up yesterday?”

My headache just got ten times worse, “who?”

“Josa Mosa!”

“No fucking way.” Ah, great. Playboy incarnate has decided to make an appearance.

“We’re going to breakfast this morning!” She squeals excitedly, “oh my gods Aurelia!!”

“Doesn’t he throw chocolate sauce over his girlfriends?”

“Well, I like chocolate sauce and-”

“Are you insane?” I practically yell, “are you actually insane? The man is a menace! You swore you’d never-!”

“He’s famous, Auri!” Her whining is like sandpaper to my ears, “and come on, he’s cute! You’ve already got a hubby so it’s not fair to stop me looking for love!”

“Stop being so fucking dumb! You can’t go out with every single guy; you’ll get a rep.”

“It’s Josa Mosa!”

“It’s Josa big nose-a! Get a life!” I stab the end call button before she can retort.

There’s no point trying to talk sense into her; she’s anything but sensible. She’ll find a way to go out with him even if I tape her up in a closet and smash her phone. It’s hopeless.

And I guess I’m on my own now.

Biting my tongue so I don’t curse my way through getting dressed, I pull on my mechanics uniform and rush through the motions of straightening the room out.

I end up running through the maze of corridors to the cafeteria, grab the first thing on the counter and hurry to the mechanics shop.

Just as I finish pulling the barred doors open, I hear a whirring of wheels and turn to see Lolli-N trundling towards me.

“Good morning!” She waves at me happily, carrying delivery parcels of homebot parts into the repair centre.

“Morning.”

“Fresh body parts!” She drops the parcels on my desk and stands back to admire her work. “How’s it going?”

“Homebots are manageable. They’re older models but I can handle it. It’s mostly aesthetic repairs right now.”

“I didn’t mean that. How are you doing?”

“Manageable. I mean…” I huff, hands on my hips as I stare into her glittering eyes. “I’m fine.”

She stares right back. “A lie has been detected.”

“You’re an A3 model. You don’t have a lie detector.”

“It’s not hard to tell. Captain says he’s fine all the time and I know he’s lying from experience. Therefore, it makes sense you would be too.”

I turn my attention to unpacking the parcels “I’m not Illion.”

The box is full of arms, legs, hands, toes and fingers. All different shades and sizes, and very real looking. They’re soft to the touch, but the synthetic joints peeking through the flesh at the ends is a give away.

“There’s an onboard therapist if you want to talk about anything.” Lolli-N says, “she’s on floor five, I’ll send you the room number if you want t-”

“I’m not going to therapy.”

“We understand that many people will be experiencing mental issues at this time, so it’s advised.”

“Give the room number to someone else. I can take care of myself.” I shake the last fingers out of the box and shove the box into her arms. “Thanks for the delivery, but I see some customers at the door now, so I need to get to work. Good talk.”

With a look of annoyance, Lolli-N wheelies herself out of my mechanics shop as the first wave of service bots stagger in.

****

The main hall is packed when I get off shift. Hundreds of people sitting around on the fake grass talking and having picnics, little kids playing in the massive disco ball fountain. A few homebots gardeners prune the bushes and flowers around the edges.

The glass dome above lets the light of the stars fall onto the mosaic floor, sending sparkles all over the ivy-covered walls.

“Hey! It’s the captain’s wife!” The call comes from my left. There’s a small group of people waving at me to come over.

“Hi?” Cautiously, I walk over to them, hands in my pockets.

“Sit with us!” Says a young woman. Her hair is neon pink, and her uniform has a little badge on it with a vacuum symbol. Poor girl’s on cleaning duty.

“I’m Orga.” She grins.

I sit next to Orga on the grass and exchange names with the others, there’s five in total. All of them have been assigned cleaning duties, and like me, just got off shift.

“Is the captain actually as crazy as he seems?” Asks a guy next to me. He sits cross legged, and I can’t help but stare at his bright orange shoes. “Like, I’m actually scared he’s going to yeet someone out the airlock soon.”

Before I can answer, another woman, maybe forty or so cuts in, “the previous day there was a worker strike. It was very unruly, and he sent in those mechanical men to haul off a few individuals.”

“My bunk mate came back yesterday, said the same thing.” Orga adds, “apparently he made them dance for three hours straight in the disco room with homebot supervision until they begged to go to work instead.”

Orga turns to me, “don’t you have to share a room with him?”

Suddenly everyone’s staring at me; waiting. “I mean, yeah. I don’t mind.”

The older woman narrows her eyes at me. “Is his room as cramped as ours, or does he have a secret floor to himself?”

“It’s a small room.” I shrug, “and he’s not crazy in person. A little odd, maybe, but he lived in a different time period before this. Cryosleep and all. I heard it messes with you a bit.”

“Pfft.” The guy rolls his eyes, “whatever. You’re just saying that. He gives major creep vibes to me.”

“Did anyone else notice they’ve started rationing food?” Interrupts Orga.

“And water.”

“Isn’t it a bit weird that we’ve changed course directions too?”

The guy with orange shoes straightens up at that, “I have a cousin on one of the other ships from Osticara, and he says they’re still following the original route.”

“Did the captain give a reason for the change?”

“I don’t think so.”

“No.”

Everyone shakes their heads, and Orga curses under her breath. “Where are we headed then?”

The older woman pulls out her phone, “according to the star charts I was looking at, we’re going to the Julipar asteroid belt.”

“An asteroid belt?” Orga exclaims, “this ship is in no condition to navigate an asteroid field.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence, until orange shoe man speaks up, “maybe we’re stopping somewhere halfway.”

“There’s nothing to stop at.” The older woman grumbles, “unless you fancy a walk on a desert planet.”

“Illion knows what he’s doing.” I say, seeing as I’m the only one to fight for his honour at this point. “And he knows this ship better than we do. If he’s going to an asteroid belt, there’s a reason.”

Orange shoe man shakes his head, and the others just shrug, but their faces show disagreement.

The conversation slowly drifts to other topics, and after an hour or so, Orga invites me to come roller skating with them.

“For an archaic starliner, the roller rinks are actually pretty decent.” She chuckles, “especially after magic eight hour.”

“Is it magic eight hour tonight?”

“Should be. It seems to be every second day or so.”

“Ah.”

We reach the outside of the roller rink just as the doors are opening. It’s different than I last remember. Purple disco lights pulse through the archway, and the dim lighting makes it seem more like a club than a roller rink.

Orga drags me to a counter inside the thick archway, where a homebot with a pink braid hands us a pair of roller blades.

“Ever been roller skating before?” Orga asks as we sit on the benches outside the rink, lacing up the boots. The insides feel like stepping in jelly; at least I know my feet won’t be sore after this!

“No, never. Have you?”

“Almost every night now. You know, the captain comes here sometimes.”

“He does?” I can’t help the curiosity leaking into my voice. That’s news to me.

“Mhm. He’s very good.” There’s a fake innocence in the way she says it. Everyone wants to know the tea between Illion and I. Bored people love a good gossip.

I play it off. “Nice. So, if I make a fool of myself out there you promise you won’t laugh?”

“No promises.” She grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet, helping steady me as I wobble about. “Just relax, it’s harder to skate if you’re like a statue.”

Feeling like a penguin as I hobble onto the roller rink, Orga leads me by the arm until I can grab the railing myself. Even then, my feet give way and I crash onto the floor with a yelp and have to be helped up again.

This happens a few more times, and by the time I’m finally able to teeter around without the railing, an announcement sounds.

“It’s magic eight hour everybody!” Hollers a kid’s choir, and purple lights flash from the wall sconces. Rainbows and pink heart projections fall over our faces and the dance floor, and the low ceiling hisses, and opens up to a twenty-storey chamber, stretching up and up and up, and the light of a million stars streak down, bouncing off the metal walls. Confetti rains down from above, and the slow retro music switches to erratic disco pop.

I forgot this place is a party dome.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, children and lollipops, please don’t cry if the music hurts your ears. The whole world doesn’t need to know you have bad taste!” A familiar voice echoes over the loudspeakers, and I nearly jump out of my skin; it’s him. Illion the Marillion has decided to grace us with his presence tonight.

Orga slides up to me as I cling to the railing, my eyes locked on the archway, waiting for the inevitable.

“Told you so!” She grins, “go show him how it’s done!”

“I can barely stand up straight! Don’t embarrass me!” I groan. I’m beginning to seriously regret joining her.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. He probably won’t even notice you’re here. It’s a big dome.” And she’s off, whizzing around the edge of the rink at lightning speed; her green shirt a jarring contrast to the pastel rink.

“You there, lady in green! Please keep the speeding below ninety miles per hour, we don’t want to be breaking the sound barrier just yet!” My head snaps to the right, and I see Illion marching towards the rink entrance in full uniform with a matching captain’s hat, red glasses, and the most neon blue roller boots I’ve ever seen.

Orga’s right, it’s a big rink, and the lighting isn’t great, but if I just hug the railings, maybe he won’t see me making a fool of myself.

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“Aurelia!”

So much for that.

Illion skates across the rink in a second, coming to a halt beside me with a grin I can only describe as trying to hold in a laugh. “Oh dear. Need a hand?”

“I think I need new feet instead of a hand.” I grumble.

“Borrow mine.”

“Wait!” But it’s too late.

He wraps his right arm around my waist before I can stop him and pulls me away from the railing into the centre of the rink. “Hold on to me, I’ll teach you how to skate.”

“I swear to the gods Illion! I don’t want to contribute anymore to the monkey show I’ve already made!”

He laughs and grips the back of my jacket tighter. “Seriously, Aurelia, hold on to me and I’ll teach you. Just not my left arm.”

“What’s wrong with your left arm?”

“It’s out of office right now.”

Rolling my eyes, I put my hands on his shoulders, “right, Mr. Know It All, what’s this secret trick to skating like a pro?”

“You have to listen to everything I tell you to do.”

“Unless it’s crazy.”

“Especially if it’s crazy.”

“I’m not punting anyone out of an airlock.”

He snorts, “that’s rude. Anyway, I think you’ve mastered the nervous penguin walk. Now you can try the turtle-with arthritis walk. Eyes on my feet; follow me.”

I look down and try to follow his flashy blue skates as they move backwards in a smooth motion, like cutting half-moons into the dance floor.

“Just relax, Aurelia, your feet shouldn’t be that shaky.”

“I’m so sorry.” I say sarcastically, “I’m about to have an epileptic seizure with all these lights!”

Having no mercy whatsoever to let me simmer in anguish, he pulls me after him.

I scream in horror, but miraculously my feet move in sync with his.

“Well, well, well!” he exclaims, “look who isn’t completely helpless after all!”

“Fuck off, four eyes.” I say it jokingly, but apparently, Illion takes offence.

“Four eyes, four eyes?” He gasps, “how could you be so unfeeling?”

“What are you on about-”

“Did you know during the fifth revolution of the Nori Nebula, ‘four eyes’ was a slur for Arrithians? Four, being the number of irises they have per eye, and eyes being the eyeballs, naturally. It’s not their fault they’re born with multiple eyes, and now you want to shame them for that!”

“What in th-” I groan, but apparently, he’s not done with info dumping yet.

“This is really truly intolerable of you, Aurelia. We have Arrithians on board this ship! You can’t go around saying atrocities like that!” He pauses to catch his breath, “their egos are more delicate than rose petals, and you wish to destroy their self-esteem like a heartless menace. I could have you thrown off the ship for anti-social behaviour!”

I blink.

“But I’m very merciful,” he pauses, and lets it sit in the air, “and if you will just listen to my wise instruction on roller skating, I’m sure we can work out some sort of agreement.”

“Are you serious right now? Are you high or something?”

“Absolutely.” He says with the most serious expression I’ve ever seen. Then in the next second, he grins and winks at me, dragging me back into the middle of the roller rink. “So mind your language, The Marillion is a PG13 paradise, thank you!”

“Yeah, it’s totally PG to throw your wife out an airlock!”

“Gotta educate the kids somehow.”

“You actually have to be the craziest person I’ve ever met, you can’t just threaten to boot me off the ship for a silly joke!”

“And now,” he ignores my groaning, and his eyebrows wiggle up and down over the top of his glasses, “let’s improve your skating some more. Speed it up!”

“Speed it up?” I don’t get a chance to criticise further, because he starts skating backwards at double the speed, forcing me after him as I cling to his shoulders for my life.

“Come on!” He loosens his grip on me, and I shriek in horror, “you’ve got this, just breathe!”

“Illion! Come back!” My pleas are useless, in fact, even dares to snatch one of my butterfly hairclips from my braids and sticks it on the rim of his captain’s hat.

“Catch me!”

“You bastard!” I gasp, “motherfucker! Come back here! Give me my hairclip!”

He just laughs and skates a few feet ahead of me, twirling around like a ballerina. “just a little further, you’re almost there!”

“I’m actually going to murder you!” I try to run with my rollers, and in a split second the world flips upside down and I shriek.

Illion catches me before I hit the ground, right arm around my waist, and pulls me up. “And imagine if I weren’t here!”

“You stole my hair clip!”

“It’s our hair clip now.”

“Oh really?” I pull off his captain’s hat and stick it on my head, “so is it our captain’s hat now too?”

“Since we’re so kindly sharing everything,” Illion scoffs, “are you going to stop stealing the blankets every night?”

“Only if you’re there to keep me warm.”

“I actually got you a heated blanket this afternoon.”

All glee immediately leaves my face. “What?”

“You said you were cold, so, I got you one.” He seems quite proud with himself, but my reaction causes him to tilt his head, “you’re not allergic to them, right?”

“Oh, no, I’m good, sorry.” I force a smile back onto my face. “Sorry, that’s actually really nice, thank you.”

“I think that’s enough for skating lessons tonight.” Illion nods towards the archway, “milkshakes?”

“Sure!”

Illion

“So, I was thinking…” Aurelia sighs, swirling her straw around in her strawberry milkshake.

We’re sitting in a small café just outside the main hall, with a big glass window to the side, giving a full view of glittering stars. It’s one of the more modern places on the Marillion, the colours are less bright, and the table and chairs are metal with intricate flower designs; not pastel plastic. It’s not my favourite place, but Aurelia likes it.

“I was thinking like…” She shakes her head, and leans her chin against her fist, staring at the centre of my glasses, “actually, nevermind.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” She mutters and smiles at me over the rim of her glass, “don’t worry.”

“Aurelia, that’s so cruel. I’m going to be wondering what you were going to say for days now.”

“You think about me that much?”

I blink, feeling my cheeks heat up, “I didn’t say that!”

“You did.” Nonchalantly, she takes a sip from her milkshake, “anyway, I like your suit this evening. It’s very pink, and very…you.”

I look down at my suit instinctively; the pink buttons and neon blue stripes are the hallmark of The Marillion. I suppose she does have a point. “Thank you, I like it too.”

Aurelia mutters something else under her breath, but I don’t catch what she says, and when I ask, she just laughs.

Maybe she’s just lamenting her wardrobe isn’t as fashionable. If I see a pink dress perhaps, I should get it for her so we can match.

“I was talking with some other people today,” Aurelia says after a brief lull in the conversation, “they said we were heading towards the Julipar asteroid belt? Why?”

Of course, the change in route would have sparked rumours.

Of course it would have. The passengers aren’t quite incapacitated by the amphetamines in the drinks…yet. What a shame.

“Political issues.” I shrug, “we’re sorting it out.”

It’s not entirely false. Technically speaking, the pursuing Zyxien fleet is a matter of politics. Opposing empires trying to kill each other and all. The whole situation is like a game of tag, except with bombs and lasers and possibly anti-matter. Not that she needs to know that.

“Political issues?” Aurelia echoes, “about what?”

I smile brightly, “politics, naturally.”

“Gods, you’re too much, Illion.”

“Am I?”

“So, tell me about something else then. I’m sure you’ve got lots of stories.”

“Oodles!” I exclaim, very pleased I don’t have to dance around the route change question, “I know lots of stories; don’t remember which ones I’ve signed NDAs on though, so you can’t tell anyone.”

Aurelia’s nods hastily, probably thinking she’s going to hear the greatest stories in the world (well, she is). “I promise. I won’t even tell Enea.”

“You must be really serious; not telling your sister.”

“Okay,” she laughs, “stop wiggling your eyebrows at me! I promised I wouldn’t tell!”

“I know.” Quickly, I down the last of my milkshake, “and I have plausible deniability anyway since I’m a little high right now.”

“You’re high?”

“Yep! I’m usually high when working mechanics; helps me focus. I got off almost an hour ago so I’m only a little…the milkshakes are laced with amphetamines; I think I told you that.”

“I thought you were joking!” She exclaims, “are they really? All of them?”

“I mean… mine are. Special order. I add nangs in too sometimes. Actually, I take that back. I do not. You didn’t hear that from me.” I smile my most charming smile. Hopefully she’ll forget I said that.

Aurelia gapes at me, “are you crazy?!”

“Doesn’t everyone know the answer to that?”

“No, like, actually crazy?” She lowers her voice, “you can’t be on drugs. You have a ship to run.”

“Aurelia.” I lower my voice as well, and lean in closer to her, “you’ve only seen me high.”

“What?!”

I chuckle. She makes funny faces when she’s in disbelief; like a cat staring at an empty food dish, or one of those puffer fishes that always look surprised.

“No. You’re pulling my leg, Illion.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Mon Coeur.”

“Honestly. Are you high right now? Be honest.”

“Yes.” I raise an eyebrow, “I work best when I’m high, much to the dismay of our dear Lolli-N.”

“And…that’s safe? It can’t be healthy.”

I wink at her, “guess they made us different in the 2130’s.”

For that comment, I get another eye roll.

“I won’t tell anyone.” She pushes her milkshake away with a look of distaste, “just…don’t overdose. I don’t think Lolli-N would make a decent captain.”

“No, she’s only one third as mentally…awesome… as I am.”

“Don’t joke like that.”

“Joke?”

“Oh, gods.” Her face says it all – she’s completely appalled. It appears my timeless charm is still working wonders!

“Okay, change of topic. You were going to tell me some stories?”

I clear my throat, and centre my thoughts to the weird, wild, and wonderful tales of the Marillion. “Right. You probably don’t want to hear about the vandals who got caught in the floor two massive Venus fly trap, because that’s kind of gross and they were digested slowly for several weeks…hm, no, I think I have a better one.”

“How many people have died on this ship?” Aurelia asks, “I swear I’ve heard so many stories about floor two being a death trap.”

“It is! Well. It wasn’t supposed to be; was intended to be a big playground, actually, but the architects went and messed up my designs. ‘It has to appeal to the masses’ they said. And what’s more appealing than a giant plant that eats goats for lunch? Apparently, nothing. And if it likes goats, you can bet it likes people too!”

“Ow.” She winces.

“And that’s not even the bad stuff…” I trail off and pretend like the glittering stars out of the window have caught my attention.

“What’s the bad stuff?”

“Oh, nothing much.” How lovely all these stars are! So enthralling!

“Illion, come on, what else is down there?”

Look! More specks of glitter on the horizon. Little white dots, like when you stare at a light too long and are half blinded with those specks floating around after.

“Illion, please.” She gives me a very sad face and looks so distressed that I simply must tell her.

“Fine, fine. You’re forcing my hand here.” I groan.

“I am.”

“How torturous!” I fall back dramatically in my chair, hand to my forehead, but straighten myself out just as quickly. “So, I guess I’ll tell you about that time we had a religious man on board who tried to smuggle in a baby elephant from Qasitar.”

“Huh?” She gapes at me, “how did he do that?”

“Qasitar elephants are really small when they’re little, and he fit it into his suitcase. But they also grow very quickly, and it appears he didn’t realize that!” I pause to raise tension, “guess what?”

“What?”

“Two weeks into the cruise, we had a full-size elephant in the cafeteria. Couldn’t really just toss the elephant out the airlock; that’s not fair to the creature, you know it didn’t choose this after all…”

“Full size elephant!” Aurelia yelps, “what did you do?”

“We tossed the man out.” I smile charmingly, “he elephant took his place; got the finest service an elephant’s ever had. And you best believe that.”

“Why’d you toss the man out for? You could have just kept him onboard.”

“He broke the rules.” I shrug, “policy is policy.”

“So, if anyone breaks any rules, they get lobbed out the airlock?”

“Pretty much.”

“You’re smiling too much right now; you can’t be serious.”

“I am! I’m being lax right now because everyone’s stressed, but the airlocks are prepped and ready at all hours of the day.”

“But isn’t that illegal? Isn’t that murder?”

“Out of Central Planet jurisdiction, my laws apply here. Justice is best served cold. In outer space. It’s very cold out there; approximately negative 270 degrees Celsius.”

“Gods help us all.” She buries her face in her arms on the table and laughs, probably out of joy. Most definitely out of joy.

“We should get back.” I say once her laughing has subsided, “it’s almost 9:30pm.”

“Yeah, you’ve got to sleep well so you can grease those airlocks tomorrow.”

“Exactly!”

With a groan, Aurelia pulls herself up and follows me out of the small café into the carpeted hallway.

The halls of the fifth floor are quiet this time of night, everyone’s either partying elsewhere or already asleep. The soft glow of the wall sconces illuminate the striped, red carpeting, and the matching doors with their gold numbering. I haven’t been in this part of the ship since cryosleep; I forgot how much I missed it.

Halfway through the hall, and Aurelia grabs my right hand – no warning, just links her fingers through mine.

“What, wh-” I stumble over my words for a second before regaining my composure, “we’ve only been married three days, and you already want to hold my hand? How am I supposed to tell my parents this? It’s horrifically scandalous.”

“Shush. You looked dazed. I don’t want you wandering off while you’re high. You might end up in an airlock yourself.”

“You don’t even know the way back from here, Aurelia.”

“I said shush.” She mutters, pulling me a closer so our arms are touching and so I don’t ‘careen away and trip onto my face’ – her words not mine.

After I help her navigate the maze of hallways back to our room, she runs straight to the shower to make sure she gets hot water.

I linger around my desk, tidying it up a bit for tomorrow as the water runs loudly in the bathroom. All my papers are scattered about from my frenzy the other night, and I heap them into a drawer. Ah, top tier cleaning skills.

Aurelia’s yellow tulips are still proudly displayed in the centre of my desk, and I pause to take them in again. They’re a vibrant yellow, like lemons, like the sun. Not like the faded pastel yellow of Aurelia’s hairclips. One of which is still stuck on my hat.

I set my hat on the desk and pull the hairclip off. It’s a butterfly, dusty yellow; aged. I wonder if this was hers originally or a hand-me-down. I suppose I’ll have to give it back to her.

Stepping away from the desk, I place it on her bedside table next to her phone. Even her phone has butterflies on the case. Purple, pink and yellow. Like her shoes. She must like those colours very much.

“Illion, help!” Aurelia’s voice wails from the bathroom, “I forgot a towel!”

“Oh dear.” I sigh and turn to dig out a towel from the master closet, as well as a set of pajamas for her. If she forgot the towel, she probably forgot the clothes too.

“Here.” Sliding the door open just a bit, and scrunching my eyes shut, I hold the offering of appeasement out to her.

“Thanks.” She takes it, and the door gets shut in my face just as quickly. How kind.

I turn back to the closet to sort out my own clothes. My left arm is still, if not more, sore than it was yesterday. The purple bruise has spread halfway down my upper arm and if you didn’t know better, you might reasonably assume I was attacked by a bunch of toddlers with purple paint.

I can’t believe one guy grabbing my arm led to this. It’s just silly.

“Oh, my gods, what happened?”

I spin in surprise, and find Aurelia in her pajamas, with her hair wrapped up in a towel, staring at my arm as I stand shirtless in front of the closet mirror.

“It’s not bad.” Hastily, I reach for my shirt. “It just looks bad. But it’s not.”

“It doesn’t look bad, that looks fucking awful!” She drops her old clothes by the door and stomps over, “who did this to you?”

She doesn’t let me answer, doesn’t even let me put my shirt back on. Grabbing me by my other hand, she hauls me over to the bed. “I’ll get you a cold pack. That’s not normal, Illion.”

“It’s…just, I don’t know.” I mutter, watching as she rips the mini freezer apart, “it’s not that bad.”

“I’ve seen squashed cockroaches prettier than that!” She retorts and comes back over with a cold pack wrapped up in one of my funky cactus socks. “Is your arm broken?”

“No.” I laugh dryly, holding the pack to the bruise, and trying not to wince, “it’s not. Just a bit sore.”

“Okay.” She purses her lips, looking quite concerned. “I’m going to call Lolli-N, okay?”

I stare back at her for what seems like an eternity. A war of eyes if you can call it that. Hers full of pleading, and mine trying to hold the tough act and not look away. She wins.

“I’m getting Lolli-N.” She pounces on her phone and taps relentlessly for a few minutes; texting. Then she sets it down again. “Five minutes; she’ll be here.”

“Okay.” I say defeatedly, “but it’s really not bad.”

“Stop saying that.”

“I’m sorry.”

Aurelia sighs, “Illion, what happened?”

“You’re making it sound so horrible. It wasn’t dramatic, just unruly passengers.” I drag my hand through my hair; exasperated, “it’s to be expected after…everything. They’ll calm down after a few days.”

“Someone punched you? Hit you with something?”

“No.”

“Then what?” Her brows knit together in worry. “What happened?”

“A man grabbed me. He was drunk. I dealt with it. Everything’s fine.”

She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, “I’m sorry.”

“That looks really painful.” She says after a minute of silence, “I could never. You’re really something, Illion.”

“It’s probably the drugs.”

“It’s probably not. You take stimulants not depressants.”

There’s a knock on the door, and Aurelia gets up to open it. Lolli-N enters in a frazzle, lugging a first aid kit.

“Captain!” She exclaims, practically leaping over to the bed, ripping the first aid kit open, “you’re injured!”

“I guess.” I slide my legs off the side and present my arm to her. “It’s a work of modern art, isn’t it?”

“What happened?” She demands, grabbing my arm and scrutinizing it with intensity, “I see the mark of fingerprints!”

“A man grabbed me yesterday.”

Aurelia circles around the side, eyeing Lolli-N carefully as the android conducts a brief medical scan.

“No fractures. But your blood must be very thin.” She narrows her eyes at me, glances at Aurelia, then back at me “did you stay off…like I told you to? Like medical told you to?”

“I have to take it.” I hiss back, “I had to fix engines on floor two, among other things.”

“For the love of…” Lolli-N throws her hands up, “what can I do? A mere android? How can I control the passions of men? Their endless desire to consume sugars and drugs and-”

“Is it fixable?” Aurelia cuts in.

Lolli-N glares at me, rummaging through her bag to produce a medical patch, “of course it is. But please stop him from drinking so many…milkshakes, it’s not helping.”

She slaps the patch quite roughly onto my arm, and I have to bite my tongue not to wince.

“That will do it. The nanites in there will fix your exploded blood vessels. But if I hear you’ve been drinking milkshakes again…” She waggles a finger at me, and packing up the rest of the gear, leaves the room walking backwards, never breaking eye contact with me.

The door clicks shut, and I heave a sigh of relief.

“Medical told you no more drugged up milkshakes, huh?” Aurelia raises an eyebrow at me, standing with her arms crossed at the edge of the bed.

“I would listen, but I need it to concentrate.” I mumble, “not my fault.”

“Mhm.” She shakes her head, “I believe you.”

“Your hot pad is in the bottom drawer of my desk, by the way.” I point weakly to my desk, “in case you were wondering.”

Aurelia ignores it and climbs under the blankets next to me. “I’ll stick with you tonight.”

I don’t protest when she wraps her arms around me, or when she decides to share my pillow. Or when she places a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“Don’t sleepwalk to the milkshake stand.” She whispers quietly, “good night, Illion.”

My tongue can’t find the words to speak. I lay there stupidly as she hugs me. I feel dizzy, like I’ve just drunk a milkshake on the double the amphetamine concentration.

Lolli-N’s medical patch nanites must really be working.