“That sounds like an approval.”
“You have no idea how good that was. Not that your food isn’t good,” she quickly added, “but…” She shrugged.
He nodded. “I completely understand, a’tein. I am sure I would feel the same way in your situation.”
She accompanied Yanna to the bridge for a little while, then went to her cabin to take a nap and sleep off her full tummy. They were on their way to Mars, finally. Possibly on the way to finding out who she was. As soon as they had the treaty signed, she would be protected, as would the Beyants, by the treaty. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about the men facing any sanctions for not turning her over immediately.
And if she couldn’t figure out who she was, or didn’t like what she found out, she would be free to remain with them for as long as she wanted. No one could force her to stay on Mars if she didn’t want to. She was officially a Beyant.
Maybe selfish on her part, but she wasn’t about to give up a sure thing for a wispy, scary what-if past.
Ford belatedly realized maybe the whiskey had played too much of a part in his decision. As he sobered up, his head throbbing with pain from the hangover, he realized how badly he’d fucked up. They were under way. A few times he’d heard crew walk past his hiding spot.
Aaron and Caph had to be panicked by now.
But that woman was Emi. He was sure of it.
The only way to know is to find her for myself.
He carefully moved the filters out of the way and listened at the locker hatch. Silence. Working slowly, he carefully opened the hatch and climbed out into the deserted corridor.
He had no idea where to go, and the occasional placards on the walls were written in Beyant. Praying they wouldn’t kill him outright or dump him out an air lock before he found Emi, he slowly made his way down the large corridor until he rounded a corner and nearly walked headlong into a Beyant crew member.
Ford didn’t know who was more shocked, himself or the Beyant.
Ford held up his arms in what he hoped was a universal sign of surrender. “Emi. Dr. Hypatia. Please, take me to her.”
The Beyant looked terrified. He screamed at him while pointing at the floor. Ford slowly sat, keeping his arms over his head as the guy ran over to a panel and paged someone. Within a minute he was surrounded by armed Beyant guards who nervously trained their weapons on him.
“Emi,” he begged. “Please. Just let me see her. I know she’s here. Please?”
One of the guards stepped forward. “English standard?” he said, his accent thick.
Ford nodded, relieved. “Yes, I speak English standard.”
More agitated jabbering amongst themselves in Beyant before another man showed up. The new guy pointed to himself. “Pabo.” He pointed at Ford. “Your name?”
“Ford Caliban.”
“Ford?”
He nodded.
More jabbering and conversing over their com system between Pabo and someone else.
Finally, Pabo pointed at him. “Up. Now.”
Ford kept his arms up and slowly stood. They frisked him and let him keep his wallet, handheld, and picture card, but they kept their weapons trained on him.
“Arms down,” Pabo said, waving at him.
He lowered his arms. “Please, take me to Emi.”
“Who?”
“Emi.”
Pabo looked confused. “Who Emi? No Emi here.”
“She’s a woman. A human woman. I know she’s on board, I saw her.”
Pabo shook his head again. “Only one woman. No Emi.”
“But I saw her with you guys on the station. I know it’s her.” He pointed to his left hand, where he still wore his wedding band. “Emi. My wife. She has to be here. I saw her get on board with some of your guys.”
Pabo’s eyes widened. He grabbed Ford’s hand and stared at the ring as he jabbered at another Beyant guard. Then, in standard, he asked, “What this mean?”
“It’s my wedding ring. The woman with you, Emi. Does she have one, too? Like this?” The distinctive and unique pattern was a matched set. Emi’s ring matched all three of their bands. He pulled out his picture card and scrolled through it, stopping at one that showed all four of them. He pointed to her. “That’s Emi.”
The man shook his head as he stared at it. “No Emi. Erin.”
Ford struggled against his hangover and frustration. “No, that’s not Aaron. That’s Emi.” He pointed at Aaron. “That’s Aaron.” He pointed at Emi again. “Emi. She’s my wife.”
“No. No Emi. Erin,” Pabo said.
Ford’s patience hung by a thread, compounded by his throbbing headache. It’d be worth attacking these guys just to get himself killed and put out of his misery, but he had to find out for sure. “Eh-meee,” he slowly said, tapping the picture card again. “Not Aaron. Emi. A Terran woman. Aaron’s a man. Emi is my wife. Aaron is my husband. That male there.”
Pabo shook his head. “No,” he said with every ounce of the conviction Ford was feeling. “I tell you. No Emi.” He pointed at Emi. “Erin. Erin Cafford Raoulx.” He frowned, looking suspicious. “What you want with Erin?”
Ford cried, unable to hold back any longer. “What the fuck is wrong with you people? That’s not Aaron! Aaron is on our ship. He’s a man, with a dick and testicles.” He shook the picture card. “This is Emi. Please, Emi is our wife. A human woman. We thought she was dead. If she’s here, take me to her. Please.”
“I know what woman is. I know what man is. Erin is ambassador’s daughter. Woman, not man.” Pabo herded Ford along the corridor ahead of him. “Come now. This way. Bridge. Talk to Commander Raoulx.”
When the guards led Ford to the bridge, the tall man Ford had seen on the station was pacing the deck. Up close, Ford could tell the Beyant stood even taller than Caph.
And he wasted no time crossing the bridge and getting in Ford’s face, towering over him. “Who are you? How dare you stow away on our ship?” His English standard was far better than the other man’s.
Ford held up his hands. “Please, I just want to see Emi.” If he was wrong, he’d let them kill him. He didn’t care anymore. “My wife, Emi. I know she’s here. I saw her with you on the space station.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the photo card again. “See? Emi.” He glared at Pabo. “That idiot keeps asking about Aaron. Aaron’s our husband. This is Emi. My wife. A Terran female. Woman.”
He didn’t miss the look of shock in the Beyant commander’s face as he stared at the picture card. Before Ford could react, the Beyant grabbed Ford’s shirt and hauled him up to his toes. “What do you want with Erin?” he growled in Ford’s face. “Why do you want her?”
Ford felt what little remained of his control dissolve. He either wanted to be reunited with Emi…or he wanted these guys to just put him out of his misery. “Fuck! What the hell is it with you people? Why do you keep calling Aaron a woman? You speak standard. I’m a man. Aaron is a man. Emi is a female, a woman.” Tears streaming down his face, Ford babbled out the story as best he could, ending with seeing Emi with them on the space station. As the story progressed, the Beyant’s expression softened. He eventually released Ford and turned away from him.
Ford sank to his knees, holding the picture card up to the commander as if in prayer. “Please! If she’s here and she’s alive, please, take me to her.” He pointed at the picture of all of them. “This is our family,” he said, showing it to the guy. “That’s me and Emi and Aaron and Caph.”
The Beyant turned, his brow scrunched. “What was your name again?”
Ford struggled to hold on to his fraying sanity. “My name is Ford, for chrissake. I’m Ford.”