Captive - Cheryl Brooks Page 0,118
a smile as he gave Nexbit a nudge. “With two speeders, we won’t have to do any squeezing anymore.”
“Until the babies are born,” Nexbit reminded him. “We’ll probably need four speeders before all’s said and done.”
“At least the Racks won’t get any bigger,” Klara said with a grimace. “We can still fit them in somehow.” The thought of having six children—if she’d interpreted Nexbit’s prediction correctly—was a bit daunting. But no doubt they would deal with that when the time came. At the moment, all she wanted was a nice, long, quiet night of uninterrupted sleep.
That’ll be a first.
Or maybe it wouldn’t. As tired as she was, she really couldn’t remember. She only knew it wasn’t the first time she’d longed for such a thing—and sharing it with Moe would make her slumber that much sweeter. Either way, she figured she’d better enjoy it while she could. Something told her that motherhood would bring even more sleepless nights than living in the Barrens.
As it turned out, Klara was able to enjoy not only a blissful night of uninterrupted sleep, but Moe actually brought her breakfast in bed.
She sat up and pulled the covers up over her bare chest. “Wow. This is special.”
Moe shrugged. “Not really. Just the typical breakfast aboard the Sunrise.”
This wasn’t terribly helpful considering that Klara didn’t recognize anything on her plate. Arching a brow, she aimed a pointed look at Moe.
“Oh, right,” he said after a moment of obvious puzzlement. “Scrambled lacornia eggs and toast. Not sure what kind of flour the bread was made with, but it’s a grain of some kind. Probably Vessonian in origin given that Nevid has been the one doing the shopping lately.”
One bite made her wonder why she’d even bothered to ask. “Whatever it is, it’s delicious.”
Moe sat down on the edge of the bed with his own plate. “Glad you like it. Hope the Racks are happy with their breakfast.” After eating a large forkful of the eggs, he added, “Didn’t have any of those aubergat stalks.”
“I’m sure they’ll adapt.” She knew from experience that severe hunger would render almost anything edible.
“I left Nex and Temfilk arguing with Nevid over what was the best topping for toast. Nevid likes crème fraiche and strawberry jam, although he would rather have scones than toast. The other two prefer cream cheese.”
Never having had either topping, she had no opinion. Unless… She held up her own piece of toast. “What’s on this?”
“Butter. Figured I ought to keep it simple the first time around.”
She nodded. “Heard anything from Velkma or Yirland?”
He shook his head. “Nothing yet. I looked out a while ago, and things seem pretty quiet this morning. Guess most folks are sleeping off last night’s revelries.”
Klara could relate to that. “I wonder if they’ve had any more thoughts about what to do with Pelarus.”
“Possibly. I can’t say that I lost any sleep over it.”
“Neither did I.” She let out a deep, satisfied sigh. “Last night was absolutely wonderful.”
Moe grinned. “Because I let you sleep instead of hounding you for nooky all night long?”
“Yes, but there will be other nights for that.” And mornings, and evenings, and afternoons… “I swear, yesterday was the longest day of my life.”
“Certainly eventful, at any rate.” He paused to take another bite of scrambled eggs. “I’ll give Mom and Larry a call in a little bit. Knowing Mom, she’s probably got the scoop on the latest news.”
A heartbeat later, the new comlink Larry had given him dinged. He peered at it briefly before picking it up. “What’s up, Mom?”
“Just wanted to let you know there’s some sort of tribunal planned for noon today,” Jack said over the speaker. “Something tells me Pelarus won’t come out of it smelling like a rose.”
“Not sure he ever did smell that good,” Moe said. “But then, my contact with him has been limited.”
Jack chuckled. “By the way, it looks as though pretty much everyone is happy with Yirland being in charge. From what I can see, she’s a natural-born politician—fortunately, she’s more of a liberal than a conservative. These folks could sure use some liberal policies. Never saw such an oppressed populace in my life!”
“Oh, surely not. I mean, you’ve been to Statzeel.” That he was joking was fairly obvious to Klara. However, his mother seemed to take it more seriously.
“Careful, bucko,” Jack cautioned. “That story is supposed to be a secret.”
Moe shrugged. “Maybe on Statzeel. Definitely not in this family.”
“Only takes one blabbermouth to ruin a good thing,” Jack countered. “You