After a moment, Vishal nodded, met her gaze. “Yes, yes, very much. But my food is not as good as my mother’s or my sisters’. They put my poor efforts to shame.”

“How many sisters do you have?” she asked, thinking of Isthah.

He held up fingers. “Three sisters, Ms. Navárez, all older.”

After that, an unnatural silence settled over the galley. None of the crew seemed to want to talk while she was there; even Trig kept quiet, although Kira felt sure he was buzzing with a thousand more questions.

It surprised her, then, when Nielsen said, “I hear you come from Weyland, Ms. Navárez.” Her tone was more formal than that of the rest of the crew; Kira didn’t recognize her accent.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Do you have family there?”

“Some, although it’s been a while since I visited.” Kira decided to take a chance and ask a question of her own: “Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Nielsen wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Here and there.”

“She’s from Venus!” Trig blurted out, eyes shining. “One of the biggest cloud cities!”

Nielsen pressed her lips together in a flat line. “Yes, thank you, Trig.”

The kid seemed to realize he’d screwed up. His face dropped, and he fixed his gaze on his bowl. “I mean,” he muttered, “… I don’t really know or anything, so…”

Kira studied the first officer. Venus was nearly as rich as Earth. Not too many folks from there went wandering around outside Sol, and certainly not in a dinky rust bucket like the Wallfish. “Are the cities as impressive as they appear in vids?”

For a moment Nielsen looked as if she wouldn’t answer. Then, in a clipped tone, she said, “You get used to it.… But yes.”

Kira had always wanted to visit the floating cities. Just another life goal the Soft Blade had put out of reach. If only—

An excited squeal distracted her as Runcible trotted into the galley. The pig ran straight to Falconi and leaned against the side of his leg.

Nielsen made an exasperated sound. “Who left the latch on his cage loose again?”

“That would be me, boss lady,” said Sparrow, raising her hand.

“He just wants to be with us. Don’t you now?” said Falconi, and he scratched the pig behind the ears. The pig lifted his snout, eyes half-closed in an expression of bliss.

“What he wants is our food,” said Nielsen. “Captain, it really isn’t appropriate to have him here. A pig doesn’t belong in the galley.”

“Not unless it’s as bacon,” said Hwa-jung.

“There’ll be no talking of bacon around Runcible,” said Falconi. “He’s part of the crew, same as Mr. Fuzzypants, and they get the same rights as any of you. That includes access to the galley. Is that clear?”

Hwa-jung said, “Clear, Captain.”

“It’s still not hygienic,” said Nielsen. “What if he goes to the bathroom again?”

“He’s a well-trained pig now. He would never embarrass himself like before. Would you, Runcible?” The pig snorted happily.