life followed me throughout the ship. The main area was a single level, with a half-height maintenance level underneath. Besides the flight deck, cargo bay, and medbay, there was a large passenger lounge filled with tables, chairs, and two synthesizers, a bathroom, and a tiny crew cabin with a narrow bed.
The ship was designed to ferry passengers between close planets in a system. Most trips wouldn’t last more than an hour or two, so crew comfort wasn’t exactly a priority. There also weren’t any available communication drones, so I couldn’t jump a message to Benedict.
I grabbed a meal replacement shake and bottle of water from the synthesizer. I wasn’t hungry, but my head rang like a bell and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. I briefly considered trying to get some broth into Ian, but decided that fluids via IV were less likely to choke him. He wouldn’t starve in the four days before the real doctors could take over.
I stopped by the crew bunk and snagged a pillow and blanket, then returned to the medbay. I slid down the wall across from Ian and drank my shake without tasting it. I sipped at the water and listened to Ian’s heartbeat.
Once I’d drained half the bottle, I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes. Adrenaline gave way to exhaustion. It wasn’t that late, but today had started early. I could hardly believe that we’d broken into MineCorp just this morning—it seemed like a lifetime ago.
The steady beeping of the heart monitor soothed me into a light sleep, so when Ian started thrashing, it took me a second to remember where I was and what was going on.
I sprang up and caught his arm before he could rip out the IV. His eyes were wide and glassy. I was no match for his strength, so he just pulled my body along with his arm. I climbed onto the table, being careful of his wound, and pinned his arms with my legs.
“Ian! You’re safe. It’s Bianca! I’ve got you. You’re wounded and you’re doing a good job of wrecking all of my work. Stay still!”
He stilled and blinked up at me, as if he couldn’t quite make out my face. “Bianca?” he rasped.
“Yes, I’m here. We’re safe. You have to stay still so you can heal.”
“Don’t leave,” he demanded weakly.
“I won’t. I’m sleeping on the floor. I’ll be nearby.”
“Sleep here.”
I laughed. “This diagnostic table barely fits you. I’d roll over and be on the floor anyway, just with a few more bruises to show for it.”
His breath sighed out. “Your laugh,” he whispered, trailing off. His eyes closed and he relaxed under me. When I was sure he was out again, I carefully climbed off him.
The IV was still in place. The diagnostic table didn’t flag any new injuries or worsening of his other wounds, so I returned to my place on the floor, wide awake.
It was going to be a long night.
I tended Ian for nearly forty-eight hours before he decided, between one blink and the next, that he was awake and healed. I stared stupidly as he tried to get up. Finally, my tired brain lurched into action. “What are you doing?” I screeched at him, pressing him back against the table.
“I’m getting up.” He looked at me like I was the crazy one here.
“I did not keep you alive for two days through sheer force of will just so you could randomly decide to get up and undo all of my work,” I said. Then I did the worst possible thing: I burst into tears. I swiped at my cheeks. “These are angry tears,” I growled at him, daring him to comment.
He sat up with a grunt and pulled me into a hug. I buried my head in his shoulder. His skin was warm and firm under my cheek. He was alive. I’d kept him alive. I let go of all the worry and sadness I’d been bottling up inside. He rubbed my back and petted my hair and made soft, soothing sounds.
“You lied to me,” I whispered. “You promised not to lie to me.”
Ian knew exactly what I meant. “It didn’t start as a lie,” he said. “I planned to be right behind you, but they had too many troops. If I’d kept my word, they would’ve gotten you, too. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“You nearly died. I’m still not sure how you’re awake now.”