it, he wondered why. She would eventually end up dead or in a labor colony somewhere, and that was inevitable, wasn't it? It wasn't like he could turn around and take her back, not even if he wanted to.
At least she had stopped crying, and that was something to be grateful for. Her tears made him feel he was supposed to do something, and he had no idea of what this something would be.
He rose up and said, "You should try to get some sleep."
When he headed for the door, he heard her voice behind him, confessing, "Travis, I'm afraid."
He paused and surprised himself with turning around and giving her a little smile, answering honestly, "I am too."
During the next few days, he avoided her. It seemed to him every time they met, she tried to talk his ears off him, more often than not crying as she rambled on about her world and her friends and her vehicle.
He tried to ignore her, but provided for her basic needs as he debated tossing her back into a cell, or maybe contacting Central to request a pick-up of the prisoner, just to get rid of her. In the end, he did none of these things. He spent the days pretending everything was the way it always had been.
Chapter Four
When Patricia had been on the ship for a little over a week, she was less afraid than she was bored. There was nothing whatsoever to do, and even though Travis had warmed up to her, she knew he tried to avoid her. She had been following him around for a couple of days, trying to make friends, hoping he'd take her home if he grew to know and like her, but most of the time he just ignored her. It made her feel like a buzzing, irritating mosquito that might go away if he didn't acknowledge its existence.
She wished desperately for something to read or something to write on and with, a game, a computer terminal that actually worked, or anything to occupy her besides her own thoughts. She was homesick and she still had nightmares, but if her captor knew, he let her suffer through them alone. There had been no more night time chats.
Sitting by the table, resting her arms against its cold surface, Patricia mumbled, "I hate this, I hate this, I hate this, I hate this."
She didn't even look up when the door opened, not until she heard Travis's voice declare, "There's been a change of plans."
He was leaning his back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, looking at her with an indecipherable expression. His words evoked more hope than she would like to admit. No matter how dull life might be on this little ship, it was surely better than this Central of his, and a change of plans might at least postpone going there.
"The Redeemer is on its way to a planet close to our course. We're going to intercept it."
She looked at him blankly. Once again, she could understand each individual word, but they made no sense when put together. To her, it all sounded mystical and somewhat threatening, and she asked carefully, "What's a redeemer?"
Her imagination painted out a picture of something big and black that burned planets whole in its fiery insides. Travis might have seen some of the vision on her face, and sounded patient when he explained, "The Redeemer is William's ship. It was impounded, and he stole it and renamed it."
She hadn't forgotten about the rebel, or whatever it was he claimed to be hunting, but she had assumed the man had gotten away, and that he would be on the other side of the galaxy or something by now. She had a very dim concept about the size of space, but she was sure it was big.
She could feel his calm eyes on her, but at first his words didn't make sense, "Now, my problem is what to do with you."
He took a couple of steps across the room and sat down next to her, and Patricia got the feeling he had spent a lot of time debating with himself. "I'm willing to gamble you're as innocent and incompetent as you seem."
Hearing the word incompetent made her want to yell that saying things like that was rude. It didn't
At least she had stopped crying, and that was something to be grateful for. Her tears made him feel he was supposed to do something, and he had no idea of what this something would be.
He rose up and said, "You should try to get some sleep."
When he headed for the door, he heard her voice behind him, confessing, "Travis, I'm afraid."
He paused and surprised himself with turning around and giving her a little smile, answering honestly, "I am too."
During the next few days, he avoided her. It seemed to him every time they met, she tried to talk his ears off him, more often than not crying as she rambled on about her world and her friends and her vehicle.
He tried to ignore her, but provided for her basic needs as he debated tossing her back into a cell, or maybe contacting Central to request a pick-up of the prisoner, just to get rid of her. In the end, he did none of these things. He spent the days pretending everything was the way it always had been.
Chapter Four
When Patricia had been on the ship for a little over a week, she was less afraid than she was bored. There was nothing whatsoever to do, and even though Travis had warmed up to her, she knew he tried to avoid her. She had been following him around for a couple of days, trying to make friends, hoping he'd take her home if he grew to know and like her, but most of the time he just ignored her. It made her feel like a buzzing, irritating mosquito that might go away if he didn't acknowledge its existence.
She wished desperately for something to read or something to write on and with, a game, a computer terminal that actually worked, or anything to occupy her besides her own thoughts. She was homesick and she still had nightmares, but if her captor knew, he let her suffer through them alone. There had been no more night time chats.
Sitting by the table, resting her arms against its cold surface, Patricia mumbled, "I hate this, I hate this, I hate this, I hate this."
She didn't even look up when the door opened, not until she heard Travis's voice declare, "There's been a change of plans."
He was leaning his back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, looking at her with an indecipherable expression. His words evoked more hope than she would like to admit. No matter how dull life might be on this little ship, it was surely better than this Central of his, and a change of plans might at least postpone going there.
"The Redeemer is on its way to a planet close to our course. We're going to intercept it."
She looked at him blankly. Once again, she could understand each individual word, but they made no sense when put together. To her, it all sounded mystical and somewhat threatening, and she asked carefully, "What's a redeemer?"
Her imagination painted out a picture of something big and black that burned planets whole in its fiery insides. Travis might have seen some of the vision on her face, and sounded patient when he explained, "The Redeemer is William's ship. It was impounded, and he stole it and renamed it."
She hadn't forgotten about the rebel, or whatever it was he claimed to be hunting, but she had assumed the man had gotten away, and that he would be on the other side of the galaxy or something by now. She had a very dim concept about the size of space, but she was sure it was big.
She could feel his calm eyes on her, but at first his words didn't make sense, "Now, my problem is what to do with you."
He took a couple of steps across the room and sat down next to her, and Patricia got the feeling he had spent a lot of time debating with himself. "I'm willing to gamble you're as innocent and incompetent as you seem."
Hearing the word incompetent made her want to yell that saying things like that was rude. It didn't
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