“Knowledge to freedom,” Kira replied.

When dinner was over, and people were dispersing, she contrived to get a moment alone with Falconi by the sink. “Is Nielsen alright?” she asked in a low tone.

His hesitation confirmed her suspicions. “It’s nothing. She’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“Really.” Kira gave him a look.

“Really.”

She wasn’t convinced. “Do you think she’d like it if I brought her some tea?”

“That’s probably not a good id—” Falconi stopped himself as he dried off a plate. “You know what? I take it back. I think Audrey would appreciate the gesture.” He reached up into a cupboard and removed a packet. “This is the stuff she likes. Ginger.”

For a moment Kira wondered if he was setting her up. Then she decided it didn’t matter.

Upon fixing the tea, she followed Falconi’s directions to Nielsen’s cabin, trying to keep the liquid from sloshing too much in the two safety cups she carried.

She knocked, and when there was no response, knocked again and said, “Ms. Nielsen? It’s me, Kira.”

“… Go away.” The first officer’s voice was strained.

“I brought you some ginger tea.”

After a few seconds, the door creaked open to reveal Nielsen standing in burgundy pajamas and a pair of matching slippers. Her normally immaculate hair was tied back in a shoddy bun, dark rings surrounded her eyes, and her skin was pale and bloodless even beneath her spacer’s tan.

“See?” said Kira, and held out a cup. “As promised. I thought you might like something hot to drink.”

Nielsen stared at the cup as if it were a foreign artifact. Then her expression eased, if only slightly, and she accepted it and moved aside. “Guess you’d better come in.”

The interior of her cabin was clean and tidy. The only personal effect was a holo on the desk—three children (two boys and a girl) in their early teens. On the walls, overlays created the illusion of oval, brass-framed windows looking out upon a vista of endless clouds: orange, brown, and pale cream.

Kira sat on the lone chair while Nielsen sat on the bed. “I don’t know if you like honey, but…” Kira held out a small packet. The movement of the clouds kept catching her eyes, distracting her.

“I do, actually.”

While Nielsen stirred the honey into the tea, Kira studied her. She’d never seen the first officer so frail before. “If you want, I can get you some food from the galley. It won’t take more than—”

Nielsen shook her head. “I wouldn’t be able to keep it down.”

“Bad reaction to the cryo, huh?”

“You could say that,” said Nielsen.

“Can I get you something else? Maybe from the doctor?”

Nielsen took a sip. “That’s very thoughtful, but no. I just need a good sleep, and I’ll be—” Her breath hitched, and a spasm of pain knotted her face. She bent forward, putting her head between her knees, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Alarmed, Kira darted to her side, but Nielsen held up a hand and Kira stopped, uncertain what to do.