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so he had no idea what he said or how many ways it could be taken.
    Nevertheless, the statement brought images to her mind that were best forgotten.
    She ate and tossed the empty tray in the waste chute. She heard his waste receptacle flush.
    It was time to sleep, time to empty her mind of everything and find refuge in a dreamless void. She crept onto the bunk and put out the lights.
    This time she woke with the Commander calling to her.
    “Are you awake, saàloh ?”
    “I am now,” she mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She glanced at her watch. Another four hours had passed. Not long enough. She rolled over and closed her eyes again.
    “Wake up, saàloh. Too much sssleep isss asss detrimental asss not enough.”
    “What does it matter?” she muttered.
    “You are compensssating for lack of physssical ssstimuli.” There was a pause.
    “Sss’t!”
    Her eyes sprang open. She desperately tried to free her mind of what his “physssical ssstimuli” suggested.
    “Boredom,” she said through a yawn.
    “What, saàloh ?”
    “You mean that I’m bored.”
    “Yes, saàloh. You need to keep your sssensesss sssharpened, to be prepared for what isss to come.”
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    30
    Lanette
    Curington
    She sat up on the side of the bunk. She loved the sound of the word he called her, saàloh , but she was afraid to ask what it meant. It might mean “bitch” or some other disparaging term. If so, she didn’t want to know. She preferred to think it meant “dear” or
    “darling”, something mildly affectionate.
    “How do you propose I do that, Commander?”
    “Talk to me. Pace your cell for the exercissse. Look at sssomething you have never ssseen before.”
    I want to look at you, she thought. I want to rest my eyes on another living being. His disembodied voice, especially now that it resounded with disapproval, had begun to get on her nerves.
    She stood, pain gripping her abdomen. A full bladder screamed for relief. She had to do it, as embarrassing as it was. She dropped her pants and prayed that Steve or one of the others didn’t pick this moment to run a bed check. There was no way to escape. If they managed to break free of the cells, there was nowhere to go. The ship scanner would locate them in a heartbeat—by the sound of their heartbeats.
    The waste receptacle automatically flushed when she stood. She closed her eyes for those few seconds, then buckled her belt.
    J’Qhir waited a few minutes.
    “I am going to try again, saàloh ,” he called to her.
    “Try what?”
    “What I tried before.”
    “Which is?”
    “The imposssible.”
    “Oh. Is it more possible now?”
    “Marginally. The burnsss on my handsss have healed.”
    “Already?”
    “Yesss. Zi ssskin regeneratesss quickly. My ssshoulder doesss not throb now.”
    “What, exactly, were you trying to do?”
    “I attempted to pull one of the bunksss apart. The metal frame—”
    “To use as a weapon?”
    “No. I will try to ssshort out the forcefield.”
    “It won’t work.”
    “Perhapsss not. But at leassst I am doing sssomething.”
    “A waste of energy.”
    He clenched his teeth. “At leassst I am not sssleeping away the few remaining hoursss of my life.”
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    Starkissed
    31
    “To each his own.”
    A pause.
    “Another human saying. One for every occasion, remember?”
    Another pause.
    “Do you think it will work, Commander?”
    “I do not know.”

    ”””

    J’Qhir braced his left arm against the bunk and yanked as hard as he could. The metal whined and his arm began to throb again. He twisted the tube, and with one last shriek it broke off in his hand.
    He rubbed his shoulder. Now, how to do this without electrifying himself again. He couldn’t hold the metal with his bare hands. He needed—
    He looked down. Warmth crept into his face. Gloves. Tucked into his waistband.
    War gloves, two layers of wool for warmth with a layer of rubber in between. In a war, in the heat of battle,