Free Priestess of the Eggstone by Jaleta Clegg

the wall; the handle of the cargo bins dug into my shoulder blades. Jerimon looked cocky. “I don’t know if I prefer you sick and incoherent or well and argumentative.”
    “I don’t know if I care.” I put my hands up to shove him back.
    “Turn your head and let me see.” He grabbed my hands, holding them against the cargo bins on either side.
    “No.” I squirmed, but not very much. I licked my lips, wondering what it would feel like to have him kiss me.
    “I’m only trying to help.”
    “Is that what you call it? What were you trying to do earlier when Leon interrupted us?”
    “You mean when the ship was threatening to blow up?”
    “Yes. It’s about time to check on things again. Let me go, Jerimon.”
    “Why? The engine sounds fine to me.” He shifted closer. “This is what I was going to do earlier.” He leaned towards me. Our noses almost touched.
    “Don’t you dare, Jerimon.”
    “Don’t dare what, Dace?”
    “Let go of me.” I twisted my wrists, but not very hard.
    “Why?”
    “Because I’m the captain and I told you to.”
    He raised an eyebrow.
    “I’ll have you shot for mutiny.”
    “No, I don’t think you would.”
    He leaned closer and our lips touched. It was like grabbing hold of a charged wire. I closed my eyes, giving in to the heady sensation. He ended it too soon, but not soon enough. I tried to slow my breathing.
    “That isn’t where I’m bleeding,” I managed to say.
    “You want to be kissed there?”
    “No, I want you to let go of me.” But I didn’t.
    “Why?”
    “Because I can hear Leon trying to break down the door. And it sounds like the valves need adjusted again. And because I don’t know if I like you or not.” I found him attractive, very attractive, but that wasn’t the same as liking him.
    He stepped back a pace, his smug look wiped away by his professional mask. He turned my chin to the side with one hand, prodding at the scrape on my head with the other.
    “Do you want it bandaged?” His voice was cold, impersonal.
    I wanted it that way, I insisted to myself. I wanted distance between us. The ship was too small as it was. “Has it stopped bleeding?”
    “Just about.”
    “Then leave it, Jerimon.”
    “Whatever you say, Captain. I’ll let Leon out and check the gauges.”
    “Fine.”
    The door hissed shut behind him. I leaned against the wall. Didn’t we have enough problems without Jerimon complicating it even further?
     
     
    The rest of that trip was a nightmare. What sleep I got was usually interrupted to adjust the engine valves. Leon slept through most of it.
    He and Jerimon talked, heads bent over the tiny table. Both of them avoided me, which took some very creative maneuvering on a ship smaller than most people’s bedrooms. Every time I had to talk to Jerimon he was very cool and impersonal. We talked engine pressure readings and that was it. I tried to pretend I didn’t care. It was his fault, he should have been the one apologizing for his behavior. I would have been within my rights to slap him when he’d kissed me. It was maddening that he was the one acting offended.
    I had a lot of time to think. I sat in front of the flickering yellow lights in the cockpit and brooded. I listened to Leon snore and Jerimon mumble in his sleep. I played solitaire until I was sick of it. I never knew four days could last so long.
    I was in the middle of a shift, staring at the wriggling colors in the viewscreen and watching the engine pressure slide up and down when the reentry alarm suddenly beeped. I jumped, banging my elbow on the edge of the console. I rubbed at my stinging arm and shouted for Jerimon.
    “What now?” He rolled slowly out of his bunk, yawning. “The valves acting up again?”
    “We’re about to find out if the sublight engines still work.” I pulled on the headset as I pushed buttons. The beeping cut off abruptly as Jerimon took his seat.
    “Is it really going to matter? Dead in space beats life in