being followed. It's all covering our asses at this point," Holden said.
Naomi's spine popped as she stretched. Holden pulled a protein bar out of the box in his lap and threw it at her.
"Eat."
She peeled the wrapping off while Amos clambered up the ladder and threw himself into the couch next to her. His coverall was so filthy it shined. Just as with the others, three days on the cramped shuttle hadn't helped his personal hygiene. Holden reached up and scratched his own greasy hair with distaste. The Knight was too small for showers, and the zero-g sinks were too small to stick your head in. Amos had solved the hair-washing problem by shaving all of his off. Now he just had a ring of stubble around his bald spot. Somehow, Naomi's hair stayed shiny and mostly oil free. Holden wondered how she did that.
"Toss me some chow, XO," Amos said.
"Captain," Naomi corrected.
Holden threw a protein bar at him too. Amos snatched it from the air, then considered the long, thin package with distaste.
"Goddamn, Boss, I'd give my left nut for food that didn't look like a dildo," Amos said, then tapped his food against Naomi's in mock toast.
"Tell me about our water," Holden said.
"Well, I've been crawling around between hulls all day. I've tightened everything that can be tightened, and slapped epoxy on anything that can't, so we aren't dripping anywhere."
"It'll still be right down to the wire, Jim," Naomi said. "The Knight's recycling systems are crap. She was never intended to process five people's worth of waste back into potables for two weeks."
"Down to the wire, I can handle. We'll just learn to live with each other's stink. I was worried about 'nowhere near enough.' "
"Speaking of which, I'm gonna head to my rack and spray on some more deodorant," Amos said. "After all day crawling in the ship's guts, my stink's even keeping me awake tonight."
Amos swallowed the last of his food and smacked his lips with mock relish, then climbed out of his couch and headed down the crew ladder. Holden took a bite of his own bar. It tasted like greased cardboard.
"What's Shed up to?" he asked. "He's been pretty quiet."
Naomi, frowning, put her half-eaten bar down on the comm panel.
"I wanted to talk to you about that. He's not doing well, Jim. Out of all of us, he's having the hardest time with... what's happened. You and Alex were both navy men. They train you to deal with losing shipmates. Amos has been flying so long this is actually the third ship that's gone down under him, if you can believe that."
"And you are made entirely of cast iron and titanium," Holden said, only pretending to joke.
"Not entirely. Eighty, ninety percent. Tops," Naomi said with a half smile. "Seriously, though. I think you should talk to him."
"And say what? I'm no psychiatrist. The navy version of this speech involves duty and honorable sacrifice and avenging fallen comrades. Doesn't work as well when your friends have been murdered for no apparent reason and there's essentially no chance you can do anything about it."
"I didn't say you had to fix him. I said you needed to talk to him."
Holden got up from his couch with a salute.
"Yes, sir," he said. At the ladder he paused. "Again, thank you, Naomi. I'd really - "
"I know. Go be the captain," she said, turning back to her panel and calling up the ship ops screen. "I'll keep waving at the neighbors."
Holden found Shed in the Knight's tiny sick bay. Really more a sick closet. Other than a reinforced cot, the cabinets of supplies, and a half dozen pieces of wall-mounted equipment, there was just enough room for one stool stuck to the floor on magnetic feet. Shed was sitting on it.
"Hey, buddy, mind if I come in?" Holden asked. Did I actually say 'Hey, buddy'?
Shed shrugged and pulled up an inventory screen on the wall panel, opening various drawers and staring at the contents. Pretending he'd been in the middle of something.
"Look, Shed. This thing with the Canterbury has really hit everyone hard, and you've - " Holden said. Shed turned, holding up a white squeeze tube.
"Three percent acetic acid solution. Didn't realize we had this out here. The Cant's run out, and I've got three people with GW who could really use it. Why'd they put it on the Knight, I wonder," Shed said.
"GW?" was all Holden could think to reply.
"Genital warts. Acetic acid solution is the treatment