The Lost Ship of the Tucker Rebellion - Marie Sexton Page 0,63
won’t,” Denver assured him. “They couldn’t.”
It was the easiest promise he’d ever made. He just hoped Ginn and Spence let him keep it.
Chapter Thirteen
It seemed like Denver’s resolution might be tested quicker than he liked. Half an hour into their brotherly tête-à-tête—little weirder than usual since their minds seemed to be on different wavelengths for the first time in their lives, but still the closest moments they’d spent together since leaving Titan X—Spence crept into the kitchen.
“Denver?”
Laramie stared down into his drink, not outright angry at the interruption, but Denver could feel his irritation.
Denver tried to clear his head. To stay open to his brother, despite the distraction Spence offered.
“What’s up?”
“I need to talk to you.” He looked… nervous? Almost afraid? What was going on?
“What about?”
Spence glanced at Laramie. Denver decided now was as good a time as ever to try and get the two of them acting cordial to each other. “It’s okay. You can talk in front of both of us. Laramie’s not completely useless.”
Laramie socked him on the shoulder. “Dick,” he muttered, but his expression lightened a little.
“Okay. It’s… look.” Spence sat down at the table and pulled his chair in close. “You remember our talk about Treesa’s imaginary friend? And the rat?”
“Yeah.”
Denver pushed the idea of patience at his brother. “What happened? Did you actually find a rat in the cargo bay?” It wouldn’t be the worst news, but they’d have to act fast to keep it from fouling any of the stores. And they’d have to be gentle with it, if Treesa had made it into a friend.
“No.” He sounded grim. “I think I’ve found an actual person.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. When we had dinner last night, I noticed Treesa’s hands were dirty. I thought it was oil, something she’d touched near the engine room, but it wasn’t. It was dirt.”
“Dirt. As in, dirt dirt? Like grit?”
“No, like soil.”
“What kind of soil?”
“For growing things in,” Laramie supplied, and Spence glanced at him gratefully.
“Yeah, exactly like that. I asked her where it came from, and she said she’d been helping her friend. At first I didn’t think much of it—I just figured she’d been on top of a crate that had maybe been used to transport fresh food or something. But tonight, after she was asleep, I swear I heard a voice.”
“‘A voice’ meaning not one of us?” Denver clarified.
“Not unless one of you was sitting in the far corner of the cargo bay singing lullabies.”
Denver was completely mystified now. “Singing? Seriously?”
“Yes.” Spence spread his hands flat on the table and stared at me. “I’m not joking, and I’m not crazy, and I haven’t been on any drugs, I swear.”
“Turning over a new leaf?” Laramie asked sarcastically.
“Trying to start a new life,” Spence retorted. “And I’ve never been into them much anyway.” He threw Denver an apologetic glance. “I wasn’t the one on Rave the night we met.”
Denver felt Laramie’s laughter in his head and loved him for it. “Fair enough.”
“I know I should have just gone and checked it out, but I was worried and I didn’t want to leave Treesa alone. I moved her to your room.” He looked a little sheepish. “She won’t make a mess or anything. She’s still asleep.”
“I don’t care if she makes a mess. That hardly matters. We need to figure out what’s going on.” Denver shook his head, considering the possibilities. “Maybe we’ve got an entertainment device back there that got accidentally switched on.”
Laramie looked skeptical. “You order one of those?”
“No, but what else could it be?”
“Are you not listening to me?” Spence asked, his voice rising in irritation. “We have a stowaway.”
“We can’t,” Denver said.
“Why not?” Laramie asked, surprising him. “Half of Titan X apparently knew we’d found something. Why’s it so hard to believe that somebody might have found a way to tag along with us?”
“Thank you,” Spence said.
Shit, when had Denver become the bad guy? “Okay. Easy enough to confirm, right? We’ll have OPAL check things out. Which corner was it?”
“Back and left as you enter the hold, behind the blue and gray crates. What are those ones, by the way?”
“I have no idea. I assumed they were Ginn’s.”
Laramie shook his head. “Nope. She packed surprisingly light, and every bit of what came with her is crammed into my room.”
“Shit.” Denver ran his hands through his hair. “OPAL, you’re listening, right?”
“Of course, Denver. The door is not closed. Therefore your conversation is not private, as outlined by our previous rules.”