[img]https://i.imgur.com/mKWc5O2.jpg[/img]


[i]“No thanks,”[/i]  she’d responded to Abby’s offer of breakfast.  [i]“I’ll eat after I’ve grabbed a few hours’ sleep.”[/i] Apparently, this morning’s bacon was the last of their stores, and the cook had kindly put some aside for the young deckhand.  As the girl devoured her meal, the woman she knew as Ms. Baker sat with her.  She sipped coffee, listening to Abby’s story.  The girl’s former boat, known as “Butterfly” in the native tongue of the woman, had been her home.  Despite the rough-hewn nature Abby showed the world, her conversation revealed hints of a somewhat sheltered existence, fostered by a protective aunt and uncle.  [i]A whole lotta life she hasn’t lived yet[/i], the temporary mechanic observed in silence.  [i]At least she’s bright enough to conjure what she doesn’t know.[/i]

After the youngster cleared away her dishes and set off to begin the day’s chores, the woman finished her coffee in silence.  She gave a thankful nod to the cook, placed her cup on the dishpan, and made her quiet way back to the engine room.  China Doll’s radion core spun merrily, pushing the boat through the black toward their destination...and hopefully, a safe end to her current task.  She checked the numbers.  Fuel consumption was within tolerances, and the uneven burn the pilot had told her of had proven a simple corrective adjustment.

Her stomach felt more than a bit off, a condition so frequent these days that she’d come to accept the queasy death of appetite to be her norm.  He’d warned her about the drawn out, inexorable decline.  For a time she thought she might’ve escaped his prognosis, a false confidence sometimes bolstered with the help of drugs, when she could get her hands on them. But the slow ravage was always there, working its’ way through her, sapping her strength as the hair collected by her brush steadily increased. She was so tired...but the job wasn’t over til she made the handoff.

Once more, she slipped through the cargo bay hatch.  The crates were there, neatly lined up and strapped in place.  The woman circled her charges, checking the seals on each before casting her eye over the subtle marks placed to betray any tampering.  [i]So far, so good,[/i] she thought of their undisturbed condition.  [i]Mayhaps I got off Persephone with none the wiser.[/i]  Buddha knows they’d paid Badger well enough to arrange discretion, but ultimate success was still two days away...on a boat full of passengers.  

She could feel the dulling of her senses, just when they needed to be their sharpest.  Time to meet this boat’s medic.