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"I have heard of the accident," Keff said, out loud. "I knew a brainship had died. Never heard what happened to the brawn."

"Hah!" Mirina said bitterly, into his sleeve. "Exactly."

Keff glanced toward Carialle's pillar.

"They let her down, too," Carialle said, just as bitterly, in Keff's ear. "For all they say we're a valuable, respected resource, the bureaucrats still treat us like animated furniture, shells and softskins alike, damn them."

"Horrible! We have to help her."

"We can't," Carialle said, flatly.

"She's been the only moral influence these people have had," Keff said. "It could have been far worse if she hadn't been here."

"But why was she here at all? Why didn't she take her brother and go?"

"You heard her," Keff whispered urgently. "She was needy. She'd had a mental breakdown-and she had to get over it by herself. You know what that feels like."

"I certainly do," Carialle said, every memory of her own accident coming back to her. "But what would our word do for her? Shorten her prison sentence? But no, she wouldn't last in a prison. She said she would rather die than be groundbound. I think she means it. We should separate her from these people anyhow."

"We'll have to think of something," Keff said, frustratedly. He realized Mirina had been talking.

"… Wanted help, just a little help," Mirina was saying, a little incoherently. "They figured I'd ask for it when I needed it. But how would I know when? I was just trying to survive, feeling it was my fault when I knew it wasn't. Hot white explosives. No time. Charles saved my life."

"Shh, I know," Keff said. He was torn between worrying about Carialle's mental state, and the growing concern for a fellow brawn. Mirina seemed as if she had been waiting for somebody to talk to for a long time. He just stayed beside her, stroking her hair, and occasionally dabbing the tears off her cheeks with the edge of his sleeve. Poor Mirina, carrying a weight like this all by herself for eight years. He kissed the top of her head, rocking her gently like a child.

"I knew Charles slightly," Carialle said, solemnly. "He was a stodgy old 700. He thought I was too radical. I thought he was embalmed. I'd never met his brawn."

Keff opened his mouth to reveal their secret, but Carialle, reading his mind, stopped him short.

"Don't," she said. "She's been part of this piracy operation."

"We have to help her," Keff insisted.

"Why? She has no loyalty to the CW."

"But she was one of us. A brain chose her as his brawn. That means she had that special something. She's… less than half a person now. She's broken. You know what that means."

"I know, oh, I know," Carialle said, her voice rising almost to a keen. She sighed. "You win, Sir Knight. I'll try to think of something we can do for her, some way to help."

Thunder crashed, loudly enough to be heard through the noise insulation. Keff felt Mirina tremble in his arms. He stood up and held out a hand to her. She looked up at him, her caramel eyes drowned with tears, and put her hand in his.

"Perhaps you'd better stay the night," Keff said.

Chapter Twenty

He awoke looking up at the ceiling. The shifting of a soft weight on his shoulder made him look down. In her sleep, Mirina cuddled her head just a little cosier against his chest. He tightened the arm around her, fitting his wrist warmly into her opulently curved torso. One of her hands opened on his chest, the fingertips playing delicately on his skin. He remembered the touch of those small but strong hands along his back, and smiled. Two lonely people had found an oasis of peace together for a moment. He was content, and hoped she felt the same.

"Keff? I know you're awake." Carialle's voice came softly through his aural implant.

"Just barely," he said sublingually. "Whasup?" He glanced down at Mirina.

"I've checked her sleep pattern. She's in deep delta. Good morning. The rain stopped just before dawn. I've got a ship on extreme long-range sensors. I've sent a hail out on standard frequency. The cavalry's on its way!"

"Hurrah," Keff said quietly, wishing he could cheer. "About time."

"The Cridi want to get out and around for a while. They're rather bored with being cooped up, and I can't run the water-refresher if you're supposed to be alone."

"Mmm," he said. "Tell them I'll go take a real shower, and they can bathe as long as they like."

He edged himself out of the bunk carefully, lifting Mirina's head from his shoulder onto the pillow. He left the coverlet tucked around her where his arm had been. She let out a small sigh.

"Probably hasn't felt this safe in ages," Keff said quietly to Carialle. He walked silently toward his bathroom. Carialle must condone his sympathy for Mirina. She was perfectly capable of making the humidity or temperature controls in his private quarters go squiffy out of pettiness, but the air was warm on his naked skin, and even the floor had been heated to a comfortable 18 degrees C.

Keff passed up the sonic cleaner for the shower fixture. He fitted the standards into the depressions in the deck, snapped the extendable envelope out into a rectangular booth two meters high and a meter square, and twisted the water spigots on to full. Jets of water shot out of the metal disk at the top, hammering at the booth floor and sides. An answering rush of water across the corridor told him the Cridi had heard his cue. As soon as the water warmed up to a comfortable temperature, he climbed into the booth and sealed it around him. He stood under the shower for a good twenty-five minutes, until his fingers turned into pale prunes.

"Are they finished, Cari?" Keff asked, as loudly as he dared. His voice sounded curiously dead in the heavy plastic tent.

"They are," Carialle chuckled. "Narrow Leg said they wouldn't have had to do this in stages if you hadn't put their swimming pool in the storeroom."

With a thankful sigh, Keff spun the controls off. He shouldered into his toweling robe and walked back into the sleeping room, rubbing his hair dry with a clean cloth. Mirina stirred and opened her eyes at the small sound. Her eyes crinkled as she grinned at him, embarrassed. She sat up, clasping the coverlet to her body.

"Sorry. Have I slept too long?" she asked.

"Not at all," Keff said. "I've just finished. The bath is yours."

She stretched out her arms, throwing her head back with abandon. "Mmm! I haven't had a refreshing sleep like this in ages. Thank you. And, thank you for last evening." The wickedly coy look, through the eyelashes, returned just for a moment. "I was supposed to come and win concessions from you, but I think I gave up as much as I got."

"My pleasure," Keff said, with a twinkle.

"Thank you. I ought to watch my liquor consumption," Mirina said, seriously. "I shouldn't have talked so much."

"Not at all," Keff said. "I understand. Truly, I do." Mirina gave him a skeptical, almost pitying look. He wished again he could tell her the truth, but Carialle was right. He must not blow their cover too soon, even for a fellow brawn in need.

He extended a hand to help Mirina off the bunk, but she smiled a polite refusal, and dropped lightly onto the soles of her feet. She did accept his spare robe, and trailed off into the steamy, tiled bathroom with an easy, spacer's stride. Keff dressed, listening to her hum happily in the shower.

Once they emerged into the main cabin, there were no signs of the Cridi at all, except that the indicator on the food synthesizer was a little lower than it had been the night before. Mirina didn't notice the discrepancy, but then, she'd had the lion's share of brandy and wine. Keff programmed her a nice breakfast, and poured himself a health shake with extra calcium and vitamin E to help chase away the dregs of a headache that loomed behind his eyes. For all her shamed protest, Mirina looked as if she was rather less worse for the wear than he was.