When she doesn't answer, I turn around.
Ruth is pale, her arms crossed over her chest in an almost protective gesture. She's not looking at the bed but looking right at me.
Oh no. She's misunderstood my actions. She thinks I'm forcing her into my bed after all. I move to her side, hating myself when she flinches away and slides over a step. "Ruth," I say soothingly. "I didn't mean it like that. You're getting the bed. Not me. I'll sleep on the floor. Remember what I said?"
She blinks, dazed. "You said…that it's up to me. It's all up to me how far we go. I remember that."
I want to kiss her trembling mouth, but it's not the time. "That's right. You're in control here. I won't let anything happen to you."
Ruth swallows hard and then gives a jerky nod. She looks so miserable I feel like a keffing ass. Here I am trying to make her comfortable and I've scared her again. I'm surprised she didn't attack, but maybe she's too rattled. I know whatever trauma was in her past has to be difficult. I rub her arm and give her a faint smile. "I'd offer to hug you again but—"
I can't even finish the statement before she's flinging herself into my arms.
40
RUTH
I burrow against Straik, seeking comfort.
He thinks I'm upset over him mentioning the bed. That I'm fragile enough that I can't function at the thought of ending up in the sack with him. Truth be told, if he took me unwillingly, I'd hate him again. I'd hate him, I'd plot his downfall and work on a true mutiny…but I'd survive it. Just like I survived it before.
That's not what's got me rattled.
I…worry I'm a clone.
I'm not like Helen, who's an absolute blank except for where she's learned from us. But his stories about people with big blanks in their memories, people that function just fine except for the gaping holes in their minds. People created because someone was cutting corners. I've always hidden the broken parts of my brain from the others, because I didn't want to feel like “less.” But ever since I've woken up from stasis, I've felt “off.” Like something's wrong and I can't quite put my finger on it. I thought it was just the situation, or that I'd been in stasis sleep for so long that it's chewed up parts of my memories from before.
But what if there's no “before”?
What if my head is scrambled because I only think there's a before?
Shuddering, I clutch at Straik, desperate for some sort of comfort. I wish he'd throw me down on the bed again and kiss me senseless, because then at least, I'd be distracted from the thoughts in my head. He could silence them all with a kiss and maybe he'd touch me and I wouldn't hate it. But he only strokes my hair and holds me close, because even though he tries to be mean and vicious, he's soft on the inside. It's just the world he's been born into that forces him to be hard.
I know what that's like.
It's while I lie sleepless in Straik's bed that night that I come up with an idea.
I roll over on the bed—which is extremely comfortable now that I'm not cuffed to it—and look over at him. He's on the floor again, with a thin blanket covering his large body. It doesn't look all that relaxing, but after my panicked hug, neither of us was ready to share the bed like “buddies.” He's giving me space, which I absolutely appreciate, and is not pushing for more in the slightest. It gives me room to relax, and to think about whether or not I'm the C-word.
The other people on the ship are clones—Dopekh, Zaemen, Aithar—all clones that Straik freed and then employed. They'll be able to tell me what being a clone feels like. I can compare their experiences with mine and see if this is all in my head or if it's something to legitimately be worried about.
So I slip out of bed, tiptoeing around Straik's sleeping body. He doesn't wake up, and I cross the room, touching the door panel. It whooshes quietly, and when I step into the hall, there's a man there, staring at me in surprise.
Oh shit. I always forget that Straik has a guard outside his door. I give him a bright smile as the door slides shut behind me. It's one of the younger a'ani, whose name escapes me. I decide to play dumb. "Hi there. Which way is the kitchen again?"
The tension in his frame eases. "The mess is two halls down, take a right, and then a left."
"Can you show me? Straik's asleep and I don't want to wake him, and I'm not sure I'll find it on my own." I give him my most winning smile. Truth is, I know exactly where the mess is, because I've climbed over every inch of ductwork in this ship. Short of twirling my hair at him, I try to be as friendly and sweet-looking as possible without being seductive.