Polaris Rising - Jessie Mihalik Page 0,20

mocking lilt, and it was far more devastating than I’d imagined.

I suppressed my reaction and smoothly stepped around him. “Excellent,” I said. Dodging handsy lordlings without giving offense—or getting groped—had made me something of an expert at extracting myself from these situations. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten,” I tossed over my shoulder.

When the expected response didn’t come, I glanced back at him. He stared at me with intense focus. The look made me want to freeze and hide, but I continued on to the storage locker. I couldn’t afford to let him know just how much he was affecting me. One hint of weakness and he’d pounce.

I dug through the locker and luckily came up with a set of men’s clothes that would fit. I also grabbed a rucksack for my old clothes, since they were the only other set I had. I could do laundry once we landed.

I could feel eyes on me, but I refused to glance his way. I stepped into the bathroom and locked the door. I slumped against the tiny counter. Excess adrenaline made me shaky. I took deep breaths and listened for movement. I heard nothing but the constant low hum of the engines.

Loch could easily breach the door. Even if he couldn’t just unlock it with the ship’s system, which he could, he could probably knock it down. It was a flimsy illusion of safety, but one I clung to.

I wanted a shower, dammit.

I undressed quickly. I had blood smears around both wrists where Loch had grabbed me out of the access tunnel, and my left arm was bruised. My nanos would be hard at work repairing the damage, but it remained tender to the touch.

Nanobots were so expensive because they were crafted specifically for each individual’s DNA. Cheaper generic versions had been tried, but since the infinitesimal robots circulated in the bloodstream, the body often saw them as foreign invaders and attacked. The results were not pretty.

The nanobots were supposed to be good for life, but I’d gotten boosters every year with the latest and greatest new versions. When I left home, the boosters stopped. I couldn’t afford them on my own, so now my nanos were two years out of date. I hadn’t noticed any side effects, but it made me a little paranoid. One often didn’t notice the silver spoon until it was removed.

I unbraided my dark hair and ran my fingers through it. My hair hit just below my shoulder blades and was wavy enough to have a mind of its own. It had been longer when I lived at home. Cutting it had hurt, but long hair was more of a liability than an asset when you lived on stations and ships.

I wet a washcloth in the sink and stepped into the circular shower stall. A ship this small didn’t have a water recycling system. I had to settle for a sonic shower, but it was better than nothing. I hit the button for the longest possible shower.

The shower screen advised me to lift my hair and close my eyes. I did both and also held my breath. Scientists swore up and down that the cleaning fluid was nontoxic, but I’d still rather not breathe it.

Warm mist ghosted over my skin from the nozzles encircling the shower. A chime indicated I could open my eyes. My skin tingled as the sonic waves agitated the cleaning fluid. I helped it along with the washcloth.

An additional round of cleaning started for my hair. A sonic shower would never compare to a real water shower, but at least I’d lose the grimy feeling on my skin. My hair was another matter. Even with the extra cycles, it wouldn’t get completely clean until I could wash it properly. Sonic showers just weren’t designed for women with long hair, though they tried.

Two rinse cycles and a warm blast from the overhead dryer and I was done. I took a deep breath to prepare for anything, then opened the opaque shower door. The bathroom was empty and my clothes were exactly where I’d left them. Tension drained out of me. Showering was a risk I’d purposefully taken, but I hadn’t realized just how wound up I’d been.

I pulled on the boxer briefs that were my only option for clean underwear. They were surprisingly comfortable. Sadly, there’d been no extra bras, so my dirty one went back on, followed by the black shirt and dark camo pants. I was glad to see that

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