Aetherbound - E.K. Johnston Page 0,25

that left neither of them entirely pleased, but still let them feel like they were doing something about their situation. A light on Fisher’s terminal began to blink.

“Please be the Cleland,” Ned whispered.

“It is,” Fisher told him. “They’ll be here in four hours and they say the Harland is right behind them.”

“Dammit,” Ned said.

“I can stall for six hours,” Fisher promised. “If we have to, we can actually break something.”

“Give them a food bonus,” Ned suggested. “We’ve had a good season in hydroponics, and those merchant ships always run tight on calories.”

Ned’s sense of the stars was about as strong as Fisher’s sense of electronics: Enough to know there was more out there, but it still required the occasional caloric bump if they tried anything. A merchant ship ran on more than manual labour, and Ned was right. They always needed more food.

“That should make them happier about the wait,” Fisher said. “I’ll grant them full access to the station as well.”

“Spacers never come aboard,” Ned pointed out. “It’s against their religion or something.”

Fisher only shrugged. “Charm, remember? Granting access they won’t use literally costs us nothing, but it makes you look good. I’ll open the hatches and arrange for a moderate decon.”

“I miss Mum and Dad,” Ned said. It seemed like a bit of a non sequitur, but Fisher understood what he meant. It was a lot to keep track of, and only eight months of practice made them feel like they were just keeping enough oxygen in the tank. An emergency could blow them sideways.

“We have each other,” Fisher said, and began to run the pre-clearance so that the approaching ships could land.

10.

THE CLELAND MADE BERTH just as the station’s darklight shift took over. It couldn’t have been better if Ned had planned it, but Fisher knew they’d been lucky. Well-ships came in on schedule, ready for the Net the instant they predicted. Sublight ships arrived whenever they arrived. Any manner of things could go wrong in space, and a rocket misfire at any point in the trip could speed up or slow down a ship as the star-sense-led captains wrestled their vessels along a true course.

“You can’t go down and help,” Fisher said as Ned cleared the last docking regulations with his gene-print and prepared to leave the office.

“Why not?” Ned asked, already half out of his chair. “I’m in charge.”

“You never off-load mining ships,” Fisher pointed out. “It has to be the same as any other especially because this ship is not the same as any other.”

Ned made a face. It made him look younger, but Fisher knew this was not the time to point that out.

“Fine,” Ned grumbled, slumping back. “You can go down, though. You do this sort of thing all the time.”

“I do,” Fisher admitted. “Is there anything I should be on the lookout for?”

“I have no idea,” Ned said. “I just coordinated their arrival here and made sure they’ll be able to leave through the Well.”

He sounded so morose about it that Fisher felt a swell of pity. Ned had been raised to lead, but not so soon, and losing their parents on top of all the new responsibilities was not going well for either of them. At least no one had ever really needed Fisher.

“I know you want to do more,” Fisher said. He put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and Ned reached up to squeeze it. “But you are literally the only person in the galaxy who can do this.”

Ned sat up a bit straighter at his terminal. They never talked about Fisher’s genetics, having decided years before that they’d arrived on Brannick Station as twins for a reason: They were a pair. They each filled in for the other where they could and made sure the Hegemony didn’t understand how reliant they were on each other.

“All right,” Ned said. “Go check on our new mine transfers. Make sure they’re equipped for their jump to Katla.”

Fisher nodded and left the office. There was no point in asking who the contact on Katla Station was. Ned probably didn’t know, and it was much safer for everyone if Fisher didn’t. Someday, Fisher reflected, they were going to have to sit down and talk about everything they ran separately from each other, but there was no place on the station that was entirely secure. The control office was swept, of course, but if they spent all their time there, it would look equally suspicious.

Main operations was running at half staff for the