Fela understood. This interrogation wasn’t about information. It was about Car’Annie’s need to vent her cruelty. But she wouldn’t give her captor the pleasure of hearing her scream.

For the first hour, anyway.

20 STACIA CHIKEKE
The Cypher (Returning to Titan)

There was a routine to life on the Cypher. Those on command cycle rose for first-shift duties. Completing their morning routines of showers, room maintenance, and the donning of uniforms before they assembled for breakfast. The vessel awash with fragrances from the ship-wide maintenance performed by third shifters; the crew’s duty shifts overlapped over the meal. Some gathered in small ensembles for command performance rehearsal. The idea of practicing improvisation sounded oxymoronic, but an ensemble had to spend time together. Learn one another’s strengths and weaknesses; their habits and defaults, if they were to know how each would react given a key change or random riff.

Hondo bobbed along, his head flushing with exertion. Sweat dappled his forehead like he’d eaten a bowlful of ghost peppers before picking up his flute. With his penchant for spicy dishes, that wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Though not a natural musician, since he had no ear for it, he made up for his lack of gifts with a bullheaded determination. He pretended to not notice that Stacia had entered the café, but his neck seemed to buck more. Attacking each measure with a relentless fury, working his flute to within a centimeter of its life, whipping it through chord progressions to the point of ignoring scales. Anyone could practically see him counting off the beat in his head, but they had to give him points for effort.

Once his troupe ended their performance, Stacia leveled her voice at him, smooth and even. “Hondo, can I see you for a minute?”

“Yes, Captain, but I have maintenance duty next.”

“I’m aware. I sign off on the duty schedules.” Turning to leave, she clasped her hands behind her, the gesture reminding her of Paki. She cursed Hondo even more for sidetracking the investigation into her missing friend. “I wanted to have a sit-down with you, but if you’d rather perform maintenance…”

Hondo perked up to full attention, his flute still in his hands. “Nah, I’m good. I’m good.”

“All right. Meet me at storage bay three.” She turned back to stare him up and down. “Bring your flute.”

“Really?” Hondo’s face lit up. An impromptu audition with the captain meant the opportunity to demonstrate his ability for a command performance assignment.