“Meaning?”
“Meaning GC treaties or no, they won’t release Corbin to anyone who comes from a species that bans cloning. In their eyes, they’re doing those species a favor by keeping him away from the rest of the galaxy.” She cleared her throat. “So, the only way we can get Corbin back is if he has a guardian who comes from a species without cloning laws.”
“Who doesn’t have—” Ashby paused when he saw the hesitant look on Rosemary’s face. She wasn’t looking at him. He followed her gaze across the table. To Sissix.
Sissix blinked twice, her face blank. She put her palm over her eyes, arched her head back, and let out a long, angry sigh. “You are fucking kidding me.”
“Wait,” Kizzy said. “Whoa. You? Aandrisks don’t have cloning laws?”
“No, we don’t have cloning laws.”
“Why?”
“Because we don’t do it,” she snapped. “The idea never occurred to us. You know why? Because unlike you people, we think nature works fine on its own without tweaking it and hacking it and—and—oh, this is ridiculous.”
“Sissix—” Ashby said.
“Don’t say anything. I’ll do it. It’s not even a question. I’m not going to leave him to rot in some teracite mine.” She drummed her claws on the table. “So. Fine. What do I have to do? Sign some formwork, go to a few hearings with him?”
“Yes,” Rosemary said. She licked her lips, speaking more quickly. “And you have to be within the same system as him at all times during the duration of the application process.”
Sissix’s feathers puffed. “How long is that?”
Rosemary shrank into herself. Her whole body was one big apology. “Up to a standard. Maybe more.”
Sissix swore in Reskitkish and walked away from the table. She turned back toward Rosemary. “I’m not mad at you about this,” she said. “You know that, right?”
“I know,” Rosemary said, looking into Sissix’s eyes. Ashby watched an unspoken conversation pass between them. He studied them with interest. He had a suspicion, but now wasn’t the time to ponder it. There were more important things to think of.
Sissix sighed again, and tried to smooth her feathers down with her hand. “Well, come on,” she said. “Let’s go save the bastard.”
Sissix had only been aboard the enforcement orbiter for a few minutes, but already, she loathed it. No windows. No colors. Silent hallways. Humorless, angular design. Everywhere she turned, a sense of disapproving sterility. She understood that prisons weren’t meant to be cheerful, but this was worse than she’d imagined. It was the sort of place that inspired you to never do anything bad ever again. The only good thing was the warmth, but even then, the heat was thick, heavy. It felt like something you could chew on.
They entered a holding room, which contained nothing but several wall-mounted scanners and an imposing set of doors. “Wait here,” said her escort. The Quelin punched a code into a wall panel. The doors fell open, and Sissix nearly gagged on the air that drifted out, a miasma of unwashed skin and bodily waste. She pressed her palm against her nostrils and took a step back. How did the Quelin stand it? Did they even have a sense of smell?
She fought down her growing sense of nausea and tried to see inside the detention area. The light was too dim to make out much of anything, but she could see body heat rising from pits in the floor. Pits. Did the rest of the GC know about this? Surely someone in Parliament did. Did they care? Did it make them lose sleep at night, knowing that they shared council sessions with sapients who treated other species this way? Or was easy access to teracite enough to remove those qualms? The sick feeling within her grew, but now it had nothing to do with the smell.
And I’m here for Corbin, she thought, the notion refusing to sink in. She was in this hollow corpse of a place, after filing some seriously binding formwork that would leash her for a standard—a fucking standard—and all for Corbin. That biting, ugly waste. Why him? Why her? She could accept him being on the ship, she could deal with having to share the same food and air, but this—this was absurd. And unfair. And unearned.
After a few moments, she could see the Enforcer heading back to the doors, walking behind a Human man. There was something wrong with him. Sissix could see it in the way he moved. What had they done to him? She sucked air between her teeth as he came closer. A dark spray of bruises covered his torso, purple ringed with yellow. His face was a mess, and his nose hung at the wrong angle. He moved stiffly, clutching his side with one arm. His other hand was busy trying to shield his genitals. Humans. Honestly, after being beaten and dumped in a pit, that’s what he was worrying about?
But then Sissix saw the look on Corbin’s face. She thought it was anger at first, but no—it was shame. She would never fully understand Human modesty, but she knew how deeply ingrained it was in them. She also knew that every hard feeling she had toward Corbin was returned in kind. For him to be pushed around without clothes on was probably humiliating enough, but to be seen that way by someone he despised was the ultimate insult. Sissix wished that someone else could have been sent for him. She looked away.
“Are you sure you want him?” the Enforcer asked. “He is an abomination.”
Sissix glared. “Go get the abomination’s clothes.”
“They were likely destroyed.”
She took a few steps forward to Corbin, who was having trouble standing. She took his arm and put it around her waist, helping him to stand. Had she ever touched him before? She didn’t think so. There must’ve been a handshake, at least, when he’d been hired. She spoke again to the Quelin. “Do you have anything? A blanket? A towel? Anything?”
The Enforcer hesitated, then opened a wall panel full of medical supplies. Despite his unreadable face, Sissix got the impression that this Quelin was treading lightly around her. She was nobody, but her species was one of the big three in the GC Parliament, and they had far more pull than the Quelin did. Their species’ diplomatic ties were tenuously civil at best, and an Aandrisk treated poorly at the hands of Quelin Enforcers was the sort of thing the news feeds would pounce on.
The Enforcer handed Sissix a small blanket, made of some foil-like synthetic fabric. She helped Corbin wrap it around his waist.
“Thank you,” he said in a thin voice. It was obvious that he was having trouble drawing a full breath. His eyes were fixed on the floor, but Sissix could see him fighting back a small ribbon of tears. Just one more embarrassment he was trying to prevent. Sissix took her eyes off his face. She had no business seeing him like this.
“Let’s get you home,” she said. She led him out of the room, the Enforcer following close behind.
After a moment, Corbin spoke in a whisper. “I wasn’t sure anyone would come for me.”
Sissix said nothing. Nothing she could say would sound right, or honest. They continued down the hallway. Corbin winced with every step. After a while, he said, “Why you?”
She sighed. “It’s complicated, and you are not going to like what’s going on any more than I do. But it can wait until Dr. Chef patches you up. For now, let’s just say… it was the right thing to do.”