CHAPTER 25
Noah carried a stack of food trays covered in plastic into a berthing room. Double bunks were stacked against the walls with a long table down the middle of the room. Wall lockers nestled between the bunks had names written on strips of paper on them.
Felix lay on one side on a bottom bunk, a blanket up to the bandages covering his right shoulder. Boyle sat on the bunk over Felix’s, a pair of headphones on. His eyes were closed and his head bobbed along to some song Noah couldn’t hear.
“I’ve got chow.” Noah set the trays down. “Crew made us some sort of churro-looking stuff— Ain’t even listening.” He glanced at a clock on the wall, then rushed to pull a small ticket from a pocket. “My shower chit’s almost up! Damn it damn it son of a bitch!”
Noah flung a locker open and yanked out a white mesh sack with small bottles, fresh utilities from the battalion’s foundry printer, and a towel inside. He went back to the passageway and turned a corner to a small recess with a shower bay and restrooms behind separate doors.
Noah double-checked his chit and narrowed his eyes on the timer over the shower door. It ran down to zero as he stripped off his shirt. A new timer began on the clock as the mag locks snapped off and the door went slightly ajar, releasing a waft of steam.
“Mason,” Noah hissed. “Mason, you’re cutting into my time and if you think I’m going to help you scrub your ass—”
He flung the door open.
Tessa stood in the shower, her legs slightly wider than her shoulders, a towel wrapped around her lowered head blocking the view of her more intimate areas. Noah froze as soap suds and water dripped down her legs and flanks.
Tessa flung her head back and locked eyes with Noah, who could now see everything.
“Ah!” Noah slapped a hand over his eyes and fell back. The shower door slammed shut.
Noah had his back to the bulkhead, his jaw open. Mason rushed out of the bathroom, one hand holding his pants up. Mason looked at the shower door, then at his shocked brother.
“Ahhhhh!” Mason raised his hands and shook them next to his head.
There was a bang against the shower door.
“Ahhhhh!” Noah shouted in panic and fear as he ran back to the berthing. He found Felix and Boyle both seated at the table, eating rice and kababs.
“Hey, you want your churro-looking thing?” Felix pointed at a tray laid out on the other side of the table.
“Ahhhh!” Noah slapped his hands to the side of his head.
“What’s the prob—oh no.” Boyle dropped his fork and swallowed a mouthful of rice. “You brought the food.”
Mason ran to the doorway so fast he slipped trying to stop. He got one hand on the doorframe and pulled himself into the berthing, his breathing heavy and his face red.
“Corre’s gonna kill us all.” Mason put his hands on his hips.
“You were supposed to guard the door!” Boyle shouted.
“You were supposed to tell Noah not to go in there!” Mason shouted back.
“I was listening to music and didn’t see him. You were supposed to guard the door!” Boyle slapped a hand on the table.
“You were supposed to be in the shower!” Noah thrust a finger at Mason. “It was your turn!”
“I had to take a shit—which I thought was okay because Boyle was going to tell Noah I gave my chit to her because Boyle said the hot water was running out—and it was my first shit in days and—”
“What is wrong with you guys?” Felix poked a fork into some rubbery carrots. “This some weird Bretton—oh no, Corre is going to kill us. He said we’re honor-bound to kill anyone that messes with her because of Ta’essa or something . . . wait, maybe he didn’t see anything.”
“Well,” Noah closed his eyes, “it was steamy—not like that!—and she’s pale. Really pale all over and okay so maybe I got a good look at . . .” He opened his eyes.
The other three men were frozen in place.
“She’s behind me, isn’t she?” Noah asked.
Tessa cleared her throat. She strode into the room in baggy overalls, her hair still damp against her scalp. She stopped between the table and Noah, her back to him. She clasped her hands over the small of her back at parade rest.
“Boyle, if I’m to understand the rather unprofessional screaming I heard in the passageway, is it correct that you misled me as to my proper shower chit time? I did draw last from the hat before Noah went to pick up our rations,” she said.
“Um, yes.” Boyle swallowed hard. “I gave up my hot water allotment for you. So did Mason.”
She looked at Mason, who nodded and looked away sheepishly.
“And why was I misled? This is suboptimal communication between stations,” she said.
“You really wanted a hot shower,” Boyle said. “And, if we’re going to be all optimal and stuff . . . you needed one.”
Everyone but Tessa nodded.
“And Mason was posted to ‘guard my honor’ that Sergeant Corre insists on protecting?” Tessa took a step towards Mason.
“I had to shit!” Mason extended an arm and wagged a finger at Boyle. “He was supposed to stop Noah.”
Tessa whirled around and narrowed her gaze at Noah.
Noah went to the position of attention like he was about to be yelled at by an officer.
Tessa stood very close to Noah, her head coming up to his shoulder. She hooked a finger into his collar and pulled him down to be cheek to cheek with her.
“I believe there has been a series of honest mistakes,” she whispered. “Do you agree with that assessment?”
Noah nodded.
“This will never be spoken of again. Is that clear?” she asked.
Noah nodded.
“The hot water supplies have indeed expired, and a cold shower is in order for you,” she whispered into his ear.
“Yes, ma’am. I need a cold—I mean—”
Tessa let go of his collar and went to the table. She pulled the plastic off a tray and sniffed at the food.
“What is all of this? It doesn’t look like any standard Hegemony ration pack. I am partial to the beef stew if that’s ever available,” she said.
“So I should just . . . go?” Noah backed toward the doorway.
Tessa snapped her fingers twice and thrust a finger towards the shower bay.
Noah stumbled over the doorframe and jogged down the passageway.
“You’ve never eaten food food before?” Felix asked.
“These small rubbery bits are curious.” Tessa pushed rice around with the edge of her spoon.
“Everyone get the stank off?” Corre asked as he entered the bay.
Boyle, Felix and Mason acted like a grenade had just rolled into the room.
“What? Anything wrong?” Corre frowned.
“What? Nothing!” Mason shrugged.
“Shipshape.” Boyle’s head went north and south several times.
“Alright.” Corre pondered for a moment then sniffed the air. “Hot chow, outstanding.”