Page 12 of The Last Hunt
“Maevey-pie?” TAI’s voice comes from the speaker in the ceiling of Maeve’s room.
Maeve pauses mid sit-up. “What?”
“Just wanted to let you know that the Menace is following us,” TAI says. “They’re at the very edge of our scanner range. They seem quite set on us. I’m rather flattered, but I know you’ll be annoyed.”
Maeve resumes her sit-ups, irritation making her voice sharp. “Yeah, not surprised.”
“Maevey,” TAI says, her tone wheedling now. “What’s the history with you and that beautiful organic?”
Maeve is starting to feel her muscles burn as she rips through her workout. “What beautiful organic?”
“Oh don’t be coy, Maevey,” TAI chirps. “Aethon Trell!”
“Why would you think we have a history?” Maeve demands. She flips over and starts doing push-ups.
“I can read your vitals, babe!” TAI says. “I may sound as sweet as pie, but that doesn’t mean your girl TAI is a dimwitted AI. I’m the best of the bunch. A quick analyzation of your conversation patterns indicates -”
“Ok, ok, I get it!” Maeve interrupts. She flops down onto her stomach, her cheek pressing against the cold metal of the deck. Though TAI is annoying, Maeve has to admit, it’s nice to have someone who notices that kind of thing about her. Even if it is just an AI. She hasn’t had a friend to talk to in a long time. “We started at Two Roses at the same time. I’ve known him for years.”
“Oooh! And you’ve been pining for him ever since you met?” TAI asks excitedly.
That gets a small laugh out of Maeve. “No. I hated him when we met.” She remembers the first time she saw Aethon Trell at a meeting for newly inducted Two Roses members. He hadn’t filled out yet, his body whip-thin. He had developed a certain charm over the last fifteen years, but twenty year old Aethon was much more of an asshole. He’d barely spoken to her, content to trade sarcastic jabs every once in a while when one of them beat the other to a bounty.
“But obviously things changed,” TAI coaxes. “Give me all the dirty details, Maevey! I know you want to.”
Maeve rolls onto her back and stares up at the dark ceiling of her room. The ceiling of the small escape pod that she’d spent a week trapped in with Aethon had looked almost identical. Despite herself, she wants to talk about it. There’s something about Trell that she can’t seem to get out of her head. Maybe if she tells TAI about it, the memories will stop replaying in her mind.
“It was four years ago,” Maeve starts. “We were both chasing Henrietta Howell - a serial killer from the settlement on Io.”
“Mmm,” TAI says. If TAI had a body, Maeve imagines she’d be curling up into a comfortable chair to listen to the story. The image makes her smile.
“Trell and I were both chasing Howell, but the woman was insane,” Maeve continues. “We were all on a freighter when Howell broke a containment seal on a huge container of kethelzine gas.”
“Oh hells’ bells,” TAI says. “You’re lucky to be alive! That gas will kill you in less than a minute!”
“I know,” Maeve says. “But I was near a survival pod. So I jumped inside and then I saw Trell sprinting toward me.” Maeve remembers the split second when she considered closing the door of the pod before Trell could get there. But she knew she could never do that. She’d screamed for him to hurry. He’d made it just in time. They’d sealed themselves in and ejected from the freighter.
“By the time we were safely away,” Maeve says. “The freighter started to leave without us. The kethelzine gas was contained to a cargo bay. I’m not even sure if the freighter captain knew about the leak. And we couldn’t raise them on our comm. So we got left behind.”
The pod had been a small oblong one - about ten feet by seven feet, with just enough height for both Maeve and Aethon to stand. They had stared at each other, their bodies thrumming with adrenaline once they realized that the freighter was gone. Maeve remembers unconsciously grabbing Aethon’s arm to steady herself.
“We sent out a distress call, but we didn’t know if the signal was getting out,” Maeve says. “We were close to Jupiter’s dust rings - and they tend to block comm signals.”
“So you were trapped there together?” TAI asks.
“We were,” Maeve replies. “But it wasn’t romantic. We only had the food we both carried in our backpacks, and a few emergency ration bars. The pod used the water from the air and our bodies to recycle and dispense - so at least we weren’t dehydrated. But the pod wasn’t well heated. It wasn’t a fun trip. We didn’t know if anyone would find us, and the pod only had the power to sustain life support for about a week.”
“Oh heavens to Betsy,” TAI exclaims. “A week?”
The memories of that trip come fast and thick to Maeve now. She remembers the feeling of claustrophobia she’d experienced in the tiny pod. Not all the time, but the waves of it had been almost unbearable. The only lights in the pod had come from the tiny dash - small, blinking yellow, blue and white indicator lights. But the primary source of illumination was Jupiter. They could see the huge planet out the one window of the pod - and the reflected sunlight off the surface lit up the inside of the pod with a reddish orange glow. It gave everything a deceptively warm cast, but the pod itself was cold. It wasn’t meant for extended space travel. It had no beds, only a narrow bench of hard seats. There was a tiny emergency toilet and a sink. The rations stocked there were stale and out of date. They’d fallen into dusty chunks when Maeve had opened one, but they ate them anyway.
Maeve and Aethon had spent the first two days arguing about the best way to get a signal out while trying endless ideas and getting zero results. They spent the first two nights in irritated silence, curled up in balls as far away from each other as they could get, shivering through the night.
After two cold, sleepless nights, Aethon had taken off his bandolier, jacket, and finally his shirt, and sat down on the ground across from her. Maeve had watched him from where she sat on the deck, her arms around her knees. She took in his muscled body and the tattoos that wound their way from his pecs, down his sides and into his tight black pants. She wondered if his tattoos meant anything. She’d noticed them when he worked out shirtless in the gym before, but something about seeing them in this situation made her feel like she was witnessing an intimate part of Aethon. He stared at her, his eyes blazing with challenge.
“Come here,” he said gruffly. “Unless you want to freeze.”
“I’ll be fine,” Maeve had replied. She tucked her hands under her arms. She was freezing - they had to lower the temperature to try and make the pod’s power last longer - but there was no way she’d cuddle up with Trell.