Chapter 2
Steam rose from a wok into the air, twisting lazily and permeating the dining area with mouthwatering aroma. Meat and vegetables sizzled inside, dashed with spices and sauce. A large, strong hand held the wok steady while the other tossed the contents lightly to cook them thoroughly.
A vibrantly red head leaned over the counter to watch. She was slender and elfin next to Kento's bulk, her pale pretty face and green eyes peering at the contents of the wok. Tendrils of red hair escaped from her bun and hung precariously close to the cooking food. He swatted at the strands of hair and she reared back to give him a dirty look.
"The recipe did not call for Essence of Robyn," said Kento to Inferno's pilot. He'd tied a fraying, bright orange sweatband high on his forehead to push dark, curling locks of hair back and away from his face. The white shirt strained against pectorals, biceps, and a range of other muscles the ship's communications officer and second-in-command managed to keep in top physical condition for the duration of the trip, a feat which amazed the majority of the crew.
It certainly amazed Robyn McCarthy. She was convinced, near the beginning of the trip, that Kento was taking steroids. There was just no way he was retaining all that muscle in space legally. She'd since learned, though, that he just went above and beyond the required two hours of exercise a day. It was more like four.
"It should," she retorted. Robyn leaned against the neighboring counter to watch at a safer distance, simultaneously appreciating the view of the cooking food and the chef's sturdy, muscular physique. "It'd taste better. What are you making?"
"Chicken."
"I'm sick of chicken."
"And yet you keep eating it."
"Because that's all you make."
"You get next shift, Robert, you make whatever you want. Today, I wanted chicken." He shut off the heat from the burner and lifted the wok to carry it over to a large serving bowl. "Everybody's a critic," he muttered to himself.
"You've had a year to come up with a better insult than Robert. I'm still waiting."
"It is getting rather old," Cye commented from the dining table, his elbow resting on the metal surface with his fist propped under his chin.
Kento set the empty wok down, braced both hands on the counter in front of him, and stared at the biologist with narrowed, dark blue eyes. "Come up with something better, nature boy."
Robyn raised an eyebrow at Cye, to which he cleared his throat and said, "I refuse to put myself in an incriminating position by following through with that request."
Kento snorted. "He's afraid of you."
"Damn right," she said, winking at the biologist.
"Careful now." Rowen Hashiba breezed into the dining area, dressed casually in navy blue lounge pants and a grey t-shirt. The ever-present square communication device around his neck swung gently as he moved. He smirked at Robyn as he pulled back a chair and collapsed in it. "Keep it up and she'll just turn this damn ship around."
Robyn flipped Rowen the bird and slid into her chair with a flourish, enough to send it spinning in a lazy circle. She tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and for a second imagined herself on a merry-go-round back on earth, clutching the bars of the metal structure instead of the arms of the chair to keep her static while the wheel spun.
As the pilot reached her last spin, Rowen said, "Sixteen months of doing that every day, and you're still not tired of it."
"Nope. Sure am tired of seeing your face every day, though."
"That's not what you said last night."
"Well, gosh, Rowen," Robyn said, opening her eyes wide and innocent. "What did I say? You know how I get sleepy when I'm bored, and you just tuckered me out."
Cye snickered, but Kento threw his head back and guffawed. The redhead smiled sweetly at Rowen as he opened his mouth for a comeback, couldn't muster one, and settled for a head shake and a halfhearted attempt to kick her chair.
"Drop the mic, Robyn," Kento said as he extended his fist in her direction. Robyn rose to bump fists with him, turned to Rowen, and dropped an imaginary microphone in front of his face. He snatched her hand and attempted to pull her down.
"Oh hell no—" Robyn tried to jerk away and a feeble fight began between the two of them, peppered with curses and laughter. Their antics jostled the table and Cye saved a glass of water from spilling.
"Hey, hey, kids!" Kento pointed a wooden spoon at them. "Settle down. Dinner's almost done. Where the hell is everyone else?"
"I think I saw Mia and Rae watching a movie," Cye said, mildly perturbed as Robyn shoved Rowen's seeking hands away and sat back in her chair, glaring at the blue-haired physicist and mouthing…something to him. Cye stood, grateful for a task. "I'll collect them."
He absentmindedly slapped Robyn's outstretched hand for a high five as he headed out to the main hallway that their living compartments branched from. He was still a few doors shy of the room they used for watching movies and relaxing—Rowen insisted on calling it The Lair, as if they were a greaser gang circa the 1950's and not a bunch of highly trained scientists and astronauts—when he heard the sound of televised screaming.
Cye touched a grey pad to the left of the door and it slid up soundlessly. He was immediately confronted with an alien exploding from a man's chest on the wide screen secured to the opposite wall.
Rae must have picked this one.
Neither woman noticed him in the doorway. He watched Mia cringe away from the carnage as the crew members around the dying man scrambled away from the bloody alien ascending from his chest cavity.
"Perhaps this wasn't the wisest choice, given our circumstances," Mia said to her companion uneasily.
Regan replied, "Precisely why we should watch it."
Cye had no idea how the ship's engineer managed to convince Mia Koji, lover of foreign dramas, historical thrillers, and documentaries, to watch her beloved horror films. He was admittedly enjoying the way Mia sat: curled up in the chair as if she could press her body into the cushions and disappear, yet peeking at the unfolding events with a dreaded curiosity. She looked less like a woman in her mid-thirties who happened to navigate the route for the most important mission in mankind's history and more like a coed in a dormitory, scaring herself silly with an ill-chosen movie.
It reassured him, somehow.
The ship's engineer, on the other hand, looked like a girl confronted with the amusement park of her dreams. Regan Sundari's eyes danced with the kind of giddy, gleeful disgust found in the faces of haunted house goers. He had been suckered into watching many films in her genre of choice, and while he did not prefer the vast majority, except for the occasional paranormal thriller, he took pleasure in how they, too, turned her into a younger, less guarded version of herself.
Cye rapped his knuckles on the metal doorframe. Mia started, but Regan merely turned her head, reluctantly tearing her eyes away.
"Dinner soon," he said, then added with a grin, "Another one, Rae?"
"I have a quota to hit."
"I think you've well surpassed your brother's expectations for that challenge."
"You don't know my brother. Have you seen my spreadsheet lately?"
"You're still keeping that?"
Regan bent forward and scooped up a small tablet. She passed it to Cye and he glanced over the detailed log. Her twin brother had challenged her to watch the greatest space and alien movies since the beginning of the film industry, and she was apparently determined to fulfill her end of the bargain.
He saw Alien as the last entry, then Mia under the witness category. Under comments, she had put: Mia says she finds it distasteful, but I think she secretly likes it. Body language doesn't lie. Earlier entries included 2001: A Space Odyssey; they had all watched that, and Rae's single comment summed up everyone's thoughts: unsettling. Another recent entry was Invasion of the Body Snatchers, with Rowen in the witness category. Under comments: According to Rowen, the campiest way he's ever lost brain cells. Although he is inexplicably angry with me for bringing the dog man creature into his life. I thought it was hilarious.
Cye chuckled and handed it back to her. "Well, pause it for now—let's eat."
Both women stood. Regan was a few inches shorter than Mia's willowy frame. She'd put her long, dark brown hair in a loose braid that she began to undo as she walked. Mia did the opposite, using a hair tie around her wrist to pull up her long auburn hair, creating a sleek, fox-like tail.
"Dead Zone's coming in less than twenty-four hours," Cye reminded them.
Mia wrinkled her pretty nose. "I still find that terminology unsettling."
"We could always tell everyone back home that—" Regan pitched her voice to match the cool remoteness of Inferno's computer, or an automated voice on the phone, "—we are sorry, but our signal is currently roaming; connection will resume the moment we have reached a coverage area."
Mia was still chuckling when the observation room's door slid up and Sage stepped out. The doctor greeted all of them, and Cye told him that dinner was ready. He fell in step with the trio.
Sage's heart still beat a rhythm of contentment. He wasn't even aware of how hungry he actually was until Cye mentioned food. It was as if his stomach was satiated with sunlight only until the light was taken away. The thought seemed to reinforce his sensible side's misgivings—he really should keep a close eye on his physical need for those clandestine moments with the sun—but he dismissed it for now. It in no way hindered his ability to assist the other crew members, and their wellbeing mattered a great deal more.
Next to him, Cye discussed something with Mia, referring to Inferno's trajectory a few times. The other silent companion walked next to Sage, fingers running through her dark hair to remove the last few twists of a braid.
She must have felt his eyes on her, for she looked up. Regan stared at him thoughtfully before asking, "How was your therapy session, Doctor?"
Sage suppressed a smile. He supposed his comings and goings did not escape the attention of any of the crew; least of all the sharp eyes of the engineer. "Invigorating. I recommend it. Don't forget your appointment the day after tomorrow."
Her eyes, a pale green that reminded him of the forests near his childhood home when they still flourished, crinkled at the corners. "I've penned it in my planner."
The four joined the other three in the dining area. Everyone was sitting to eat when Kento counted heads. He came up one missing. "Where's Ryo? I slaved over this dinner and if he thinks he's gonna skip out, he has another thing coming."
"He's in his quarters," Mia said. "I'm not sure if he wants to be disturbed."
"Too bad," Kento replied. "It's family dinner. Someone go get his ass."
"You have such a way with words, Kento," Cye teased.
"I volunteer Mia to go get the captain's ass," Rowen said.
Mia rolled her eyes good naturedly and stole away from the group, taking a range of passages to the personal quarters, all clustered together around an octagonal open space. Ryo's closed door of frosted glass was easily identifiable due to the pirate's hat hanging from a hook by the door (courtesy of Robyn) and a picture of Captain Crunch, the old white-haired mascot of a children's cereal, taped to the door itself (courtesy of Rowen). Below the silly picture was a piece of paper taped to the door with one simple line on it: O Captain! my Captain! (courtesy of Rae).
Mia knocked softly. "Dinner, Ryo," she said.
After a moment of silence, the door slid up. Ryo blinked his stunning blue eyes at her, as if roused from a long sleep. He smiled a little sheepishly. "Already?" White Blaze hopped down from the bed and wound around the captain's legs, his long black and white-tipped tail whipping the material of his pant leg.
"You've been in here for awhile," Mia confirmed, bending to greet the cat. His rough, pink tongue licked her fingers.
"Give me a minute."
She waited patiently while he shut down his tablet. Mia didn't have to look at the documents he closed on the screen to know what they were.
Hariel again.
The closer they drew to the sun, the heavier Hariel grew around his neck. Like an albatross. And having him pull away from them now played into the exact fears he had over what caused Hariel to fail.
It had to stop.
"Ryo…" she hesitated. He looked up inquisitively from the tablet he was setting down. She nodded at it. "We will never get the answers we want," she continued, trying to strike a note that wasn't discouraging or too blunt, just…factual.
"I know," he admitted after a pause. He dragged his hand through his thick, raven black hair. "I know, but I…" he stopped to collect his thoughts, as they left his quarters and walked down the hall. He finally shook his head ruefully with a short laugh. "I couldn't stand repeating whatever mistakes Anubis might have made."
"How do you know the fault lied with him?" she challenged.
"How could it not?"
"Did we ever rule out mechanical failure of some kind?"
"We never ruled out psychological failure, either."
Mia sighed. It was an old, frustrating argument that she didn't want to have right before dinner. He was so set on that theory. She refused to rise to the bait and play into his obsession.
He didn't continue and his eyes were still troubled but, like magic, the worry was put to the side and dissolved from his expression the closer they drew to the group. Of all the crew members, Mia had known Ryo the longest; well before either was even in the running to be a part of the Inferno crew. Ryo from six years ago would have worn his worry on his sleeve all through dinner, but over the last few years, he learned to mask his feelings. Whether that was an improvement or not, Mia couldn't say. She didn't think so, and oftentimes found herself missing younger Ryo's playfulness. It was still there, to be sure, but Ryo only brought that side of himself out of hiding once in a great while.
Mia patted his forearm affectionately. "Could you at least…obsess in the common areas with the rest of us?"
Ryo looked down at the floor with a smile. "Yeah, Mia. Gladly."
"Hey, Captain," Robyn greeted when Ryo and Mia joined the table for dinner.
"Hello, Pilot," he called back with a grin. "How's the piloting business?"
Delighted to have him play along, Robyn crossed her arms and leaned forward. "Smooth sailing. Not a cloud on the sky."
"Not even a raindrop?"
"It does not look like rain," Robyn confided.
"Tut tut," Cye and Rae said at the same time.
"Why will no one tell me what that's from?" Rowen asked.
Mia opened her mouth to tell him and Robyn shook her head. "He's not invited into that club," she said. The navigator laughed softly as Rowen looked indignant.
The meal descended into a controlled chaos Mia had grown to love. As an only child, and then living in an empty house after her grandfather died when she wasn't traveling for school and the various space programs, she liked the companionship and happy chatter of those she'd come to care so much for. It was a kind of intimacy she'd never experienced before this trip.
It never failed to amuse her, either, that once this crew gathered for an evening meal— some of the greatest scientific minds on the entire planet sitting at one table—their maturity levels tended to tumble into the adolescent range.
Rowen remarked on Sage's frequent trips to the observation deck and wondered if anyone should evaluate the good doctor, which the blonde took in calm stride. Ryo made a dry remark concerning Rowen's own mental faculties, nearly earning him a smirk from Sage. Mia thanked Kento after he dished food onto her plate, giving him a smile that he readily returned. Robyn watched them over the rim of her cup of water. Regan and Cye discussed the oxygen garden; would Rae like to take a look at a particular unit that appeared to be reading oxygen levels incorrectly? Sage made another remark in defense of Rowen's comments that Mia missed, but Robyn's bright, happy laughter in response rang through the dining area. The noise escalated from there, somehow ending with Kento saying sternly, "If I have to ground all of you disobedient brats, so help me God—"
Mia stayed out of it, happy to sit apart and watch for the evening. She noticed that Ryo, too, looked at them all with fondness, and it relieved her to see him interacting and engaged with the crew, too. It was nice to see Kento teasing him about something, Sage asking Ryo to spar with him later on, and Regan asking him if she could put him down for another sci-fi film.
After awhile, she saw Kento make eye contact with Ryo, who then nodded at him.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the second-in-command called over the din of dinner. "One more time—for the last time. Communications go down sometime during the night. The Dead Zone is coming."
"Dun dun dun," Rowen sang theatrically.
"Shut up," Kento said just as theatrically. "Tonight is your last chance to send messages home. Please remind who you are messaging that they cannot send any, either. We're looking at three months, at least, of solar and space interference until we are in the clear again."
The announcement sobered the cheery atmosphere of dinner. Conversation reduced to a murmur. Mia twirled noodles around her fork, her thoughts back to her parents in France. They were already worried sick as it was; they didn't take the news of her involvement well from the very beginning. They tried to stay positive in their videos to her, bless their hearts, but the worry and sadness in their eyes translated loud and clear over the millions of miles. She didn't know what to say for this last message. They would surely think the worst.
Ryo's paranoia was catching.
"They'll be happy you thought of them," a deep voice said quietly beside her.
Mia turned her head. Kento's dark blue eyes held an understanding that tugged at her heart.
"And they'll appreciate that you've always taken the time to keep them informed," he continued. "But I know it's hard. I just sent one to my family. It'll worry them, but they know that the minute we can pick up signal again, they'll be hearing from me. Your parents know that, too."
She smiled, but it faltered when she remembered how much family he left behind; his parents and four brothers and sisters. Her family was miniscule in comparison. She thought of the times she heard Kento laughing in the comms room, talking to Mei Ryu or Chun Fa. "What will you do now that you can't tease your siblings?"
Kento grinned at her. "Tease the hell out of all of you, of course."
"More than you do now?"
"Woman, you have no idea. Just wait."
Mia laughed. He always knew what to say when the stress of the mission or the homesickness became too much. When to joke and when to be serious. Of anyone on the ship, Kento was the ground beneath their feet. She couldn't remember if she told him, really, how he steadied her.
She had a feeling he already knew.
They were still staring at one another once the laughter died. Mia took a second to admire him. Even at rest, Kento looked powerful. He constantly radiated warmth, like Ryo did; only his soothed where Ryo's seared. Mia always wanted to lean into Kento as if he were a crackling fire on a cold night. Words trembled on her tongue, but would not come out. He merely waited, listening to what she would not say. When nothing came, he raised a teasing eyebrow at her and she smiled self consciously. He nudged her shoulder with his and returned to his meal, giving Mia the chance to breathe easier and tune into the table's conversation.
"You were watching Alien without me?" Rowen asked incredulously from across the table. He swung an accusing glance from Regan to Mia.
"You were busy," Regan said. "It was spontaneous."
"It was her idea," Mia explained. "I wanted to watch Amelié. But you can finish it with her. I've had enough imploding aliens for one day."
"I would have dropped everything for a Ridley Scott movie, even if it's just to make fun of the science," Rowen said.
"I have to revolve witnesses," Regan said smoothly. "My brother won't believe me if I only ever mark you down as a witness, Rowen, and Robyn won't watch seventy-five percent of them with me."
"You made me sit through The Thing," Robyn said. "Never again."
"I have an astounding solution for you, Rae," Rowen replied. "Lie."
Both Regan and Sage turned to appraise the physicist, the former with her eyes wide as if she were scandalized at the thought of it.
"It would destroy the sanctity of the challenge," she said seriously.
"Rowen, is it time for another session?" Sage inquired, mockingly polite. "We haven't discussed your unethical behavior in quite some time."
"I will indefinitely skip out on that," Rowen replied. Eyes narrowed, he added, "I want to know what you're writing in our files. Are you reporting any of this back to mission control when we're through? I'd like to burn my copy before it ever reaches them, because I don't think you're unbiased."
As dinner wound down, Cye and Robyn collected plates and cleaned up. Kento left to shower; Ryo, Rowen, Mia, and Sage remained at the table, talking. Regan headed for the small communications rooms to send a message home.
Cye enjoyed the menial task of washing dishes and handing them to Robyn to dry. She had been quiet after Kento's announcement; soaking in the noise instead of participating. He sensed a faint twinge of something that was not quite sadness, a shred of something he picked up from her more often when they were much younger. He considered himself blessed to have one of the crew members be someone he'd known off and on almost his whole life, and did not think it was coincidence that they both ended up in the space program that would put them on Inferno together, no matter how far they had physically drifted over the years. They had been neighbors as children until Robyn was removed from her home due to an abusive, alcoholic father, then pseudo siblings in high school when she returned after living in the United States for almost ten years.
Robyn was, no doubt, thinking that she did not need to bother sending a video message home, for there were no blood relatives to send anything home to. She'd made her peace with that aspect of her life a long time ago, and even told him at one point that as far as she was concerned, all the family she needed was already on board the ship. Cye knew it still had to hurt sometimes, however.
He flicked water at the faraway look on Robyn's face as she absentmindedly dried a dish. It startled her. Before she could say anything, he said, "Want to help me message Mum? She'd love to see both of our gorgeous faces."
Robyn brightened and flashed him an appreciative smile. "I'd like that."
They went in after Regan finished. Cye pulled over an extra chair and they sat close to stay in the camera's viewing range. He pulled up his mother's contact information, but hovered his finger over the record button. "Ready?" he asked.
She nodded, then said, "Wait," and quickly pulled her hair out of its bun. It fell an inch past her shoulders and she mussed it a little. "I suddenly feel like an unwashed street urchin. Your mom is going to wonder if we bathe up here."
"I've already told her that we take Saturday baths and we all share the same bath water."
Robyn was still in stitches over the comment when he hit record. "Hello from your children, Mum," he grinned at the camera amidst gales of her laughter. "Just checking in. Hello to you, too, Sayoko. I love and miss you both."
"Me, too," Robyn croaked after the laughter died. She wiped her eyes and smiled happily at the camera. "I'm taking relatively decent care of your son, but I can't promise he's very clean."
Having Robyn there made it easier for Cye to tell his mother and sister about the coming lack of communication. How it would be a few months before they heard anything. The sting of it didn't feel so bad with her there, softening the blow and cracking jokes that would make his mother laugh.
"Remember," Cye said to the blinking dot, aware that time was running out. Robyn leaned on his shoulder, her arm companionably intertwined with his. "It takes eight minutes for sunlight to reach Earth. One day soon, you're going to wake up, and it's going to be a particularly beautiful, warm day. You'll know, then, that we've made it." His voice grew unconsciously soft. "That we succeeded. And then we'll be on our way home."
"We love you, and we'll contact you as soon as we can," Robyn added. She blew them a kiss and fought back tears.
When they finished, Mia was waiting right outside. Cye dropped a hand on her shoulder and Robyn's smile for her was encouraging. The navigator returned it unsteadily and slipped inside. As the pair left, they could hear Mia say brightly, "Bonjour, ma famille!"
"Rewind to the beginning of that scene. It's the only reason to watch the first one."
Ryo peered into the open doorway of where Rowen now sat with Regan, the former in a comfortable chair and the latter on the longer couch. The blue-haired physicist sat cross-legged and the engineer propped her feet up on the center table. She rewound the chest-bursting scene and told Rowen that the main reason to watch any of them was clearly Ripley.
Mia's request rung in his ears all through dinner. She let him know they noticed. They'd let him be for long enough. He didn't want to be one more burden for them in that way.
He needed to work on fixing that.
The captain cleared his throat and asked, "Mind if I crash this party?"
Rowen craned his neck to glance at him in the doorway. "The more the merrier!"
Regan patted the empty seat next to her. "I can only add you as a witness to my list if you watch an entire film, or at least most of it," she explained as he sat. "Which means you have to stay for Aliens."
"I think I can handle that."
"But can you handle the entire quadrilogy?" Rowen dared.
Ryo looked back and forth between the two. He knew they must have sent their messages home; Sage was the last one to go in. Ryo's own had been brief. Rae's would have upset her—it was so hard for her to be away from her twin—and Rowen would have taken his in stride. His mind was already looking ahead; already worrying about his bomb's success. Each of them had individual little worries…and they looked at him as if he needed a distraction the most.
He leaned back into the cushion and propped his feet on the table, next to Regan's. "Give me what you got," he said.
Rowen clapped his hands. "Lock him in for ten movies, Rae. Do it."
The chest-bursting scene began to play, and Ryo could feel his shoulder and back muscles slowly relaxing as the pair with him critiqued the characters and the special effects.
Nevertheless, when the day drew to a close and Inferno reminded them that their sleep cycles should begin within the hour, Ryo found himself back in his quarters, looking over video logs from Anubis and even Hariel's doctor, Sekhmet. He ignored Inferno's soft reminder that disturbances in his sleep patterns had grown more frequent as of late. Should she report it to Dr. Date?
No. The doctor had enough on his plate.
Minutes later he was back in his bed, tablet out, White Blaze sprawled out next to him, with only the voice of a long dead captain keeping him company.
Rowen lay in his bunk, wide awake. His journal tablet lay on the dresser built into the wall across from his bed. He'd long since shut off Inferno's notifications that he was screwing up his circadian rhythms. She'd been telling him that for half a year.
She would be the only voice they heard for the next few months, other than each other's. He could stand to go one night without it.
It'll be down within hours, he thought, staring up at the ceiling of his bed. Maybe it was going down right now. By morning, they would truly be eight crazy fools alone in space, carrying out the mission that would save the world with no backup from Earth. He thought of the Alien movies he watched with Rae and Ryo. That old, famous tagline.
In space, no one can hear you scream.
Rowen scowled at the ceiling. He abandoned the bunk and stalked silently out of his quarters. During the sleep cycle, Inferno dimmed the lights around the ship to encourage the notion of nighttime. He followed the low lights along the bottom of the hallway to the medic bay area on a hunch.
His instincts proved right: a lamp was on in the main room of the medic bay. Sage's blonde head was bent over one of the computers, reading glasses perched on his nose. He was updating someone's chart. Rowen tapped his fingers along one of the metal counters to announce himself.
The doctor didn't bother looking up as he said, "Have a seat, Rowen."
"I don't want a session," he replied. "I want an opponent."
Sage looked up, then, and took off his reading glasses. "I'll play white."
"As always."
Since Rowen didn't need a physician tonight anymore than Sage needed him to talk about the bomb, he took the doctor out of the medic bay and put Sage in his comfort zone.
They moved to the observation room to play a game of chess. As much as Rowen gave Sage grief over his need for this room and the sun's warmth, he understood it. He made sure the filter's exposure wasn't excessive, though, because Sage's fair skin could only handle so much. It helped the man relax, which benefited Rowen, because then Sage dropped his job for awhile and acted more like himself. He'd been a tough nut to crack during their training—the man took professionalism to another level—but challenges were Rowen's specialty. If he couldn't get under the skin of every person on board this ship, then what kind of genius was he?
They sat on the floor, cross-legged, with the chess board between them. In the background, the sun pulsated, blasting away any notion of night with its constant presence. Rowen chattered away as he played and Sage listened quietly, interjecting with a few comments here and there. Every so often, their conversation was peppered with Inferno's reminders, coming from Sage's comms device, that it was far too late to be awake.
"Does she realize the sun is right there?" Rowen asked, throwing a hand to the left.
"I think she does, but not in the way you or I realize it," Sage said, amused. "Do you want me to permanently disable Inferno's sleep cycle reminders?"
Rowen's mouth quirked. "Isn't that against your medical opinion?"
"It's not as if you listen to her."
"You're up," Rowen noted.
"I don't make a habit of it."
"You sure about that?"
Sage exchanged a glance with him before looking away, causing Rowen to smirk before returning to contemplating his next move. "You want to talk about it?" Rowen asked.
"No."
His stiff response made Rowen laugh. "I am a doctor, too, you know."
"Not the kind of doctor I would ever go to for my psychological needs."
Rowen thought Sage's indignant response was hilarious; the blonde did not find it that funny. They kept playing for another hour, and Rowen felt considerably lightened. The game occupied his restless mind; his friend's presence made him feel like he could rest now.
Far more effective than a machine telling him to sleep.
Chapter Title Song Reference: "Family and Genus," by Shakey Graves