A second later, she heard another noise at the back of the room: this one a metallic-like clatter that reminded her of … hooves?

Then a brown and pink mass rushed through the doorway and bounced off the ladder. It squealed and kicked its stubby legs until it caught one hoof on the ladder. The hoof stuck, and the creature—the pig—jumped after the cat.

The sight of the pig was so surreal, it left Kira flabbergasted. As always, life continued to surprise her with the depths of its weirdness.

The cat landed at the other end of the room and promptly sprang away through another open doorway. A moment later, the pig followed suit.

“What was that?” Kira said, finding her voice.

“That’s our ship pig, Runcible.”

“Your ship pig.”

“Yup. We put some gecko pads on his hooves so he can move around in free fall.”

“But why a ship pig?!”

“’Cause that way we can always bring home the bacon.” Trig cackled, and Kira winced. Eighty-eight days in FTL just to be subjected to bad puns? Where was the justice in that?

Gregorovich’s watery voice sounded above them, again the voice of an uncertain god: “Prepare for resumption of thrust in one minute and twenty-four seconds.”

“So what makes your ship mind so special?” Kira asked.

Trig shrugged. It was an odd motion in free fall. “He’s really, really big.” He eyed her. “Big enough for a capital ship.”

“How’d you manage that?” she said. From what she’d seen of the Wallfish, no mind with more than two or three years of growth should have wanted to serve on board.

“We rescued him.”

“You rescued—”

“He was installed on an ore freighter. The company was mining iridium out around Cygni B, then hauling it back here. A meteoroid hit the freighter, and it crashed on one of the moons.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. And the crash knocked out the comms, so there was no way to signal for help.”

The alert sounded again, and Kira’s feet settled back on the metal decking as her weight returned. Once more she marveled at how well her muscles worked after so long in zero-g.

“So?” she said, frowning. “The freighter’s thermal signature should have been easy enough to spot.”

“Should have,” said Trig, and started to climb down the ladder. “Problem was, the moon is volcanic. All the background heat hid the ship. The company thought it was destroyed.”

“Shit,” said Kira, following him.

“Yeah.”

“How long were they stranded there?” she asked, as they arrived at the bottom of the shaft.

“Over five years.”

“Wow. That’s a long time to be stuck in cryo.”

Trig halted and stared at her with a serious expression. “They weren’t. The ship was too damaged. All the cryo tubes were broken.”

“Thule.” Her own trip had been brutally long. Kira couldn’t even imagine five years of it. “What happened to the crew?”

“Died in the crash or starved to death.”

“And Gregorovich couldn’t go into cryo either?”