“I didn’t say it was.”

“Then why punish him by denying him the chance to get closer to you?”

“Fraternization is forbidden between crewmembers.”

“My dear . . .”

They were sitting together in their shared office: a grim little space, but one of the few truly private rooms aboard the Deucalion. If Park had had her way, she would have convinced ISF Earth to cough up the bits to convert the office into a more welcoming space: better lighting, warmer colors to the gray walls, maybe a plant to alleviate the ambient chill. Curtains to simulate security, privacy. But Dr. Keller was the primary psychologist, and she was utilitarian, machine-based. She’d brought a MAD—a Mood-Altering Device that shot soothing gamma rays into a patient’s eyes—and told Park that it was enough.

“Can we get back to the topic at hand?” Park asked. “I’m concerned about Reimi’s absence impacting the mission. And as to whoever poisoned me—”

“I wouldn’t call it poison—”

“Legally, it’s poison. I’m aware that the likelihood of anyone confessing to the act to either of us is very small. But if the androids uncover anything—”

“I really wish you hadn’t done that, my dear, you know how the crew distrusts the bots already—”

“—I would like to know our course of action. Shouldn’t we inform Commander Wick?”

She waited, watching her mentor’s face. At fifty-nine, Keller was by far the oldest crewmember on the ship, but the medical reports said she was in better physical condition than even Park herself. Her head was shaven, after the Earth fashion of the elderly, but her blue eyes were bright with genetic augments. She shifted in her seat, frowning to herself, before she said, “I think we should be discreet about this for now. Now that we’ve landed, Commander Wick is preoccupied with many things . . . and if he hands this issue off to someone like Sagara or Boone, word would get out that people are meddling with each other’s food. Paranoia might foment—and that’s the one thing we can’t have, not when they’re scheduled to begin exploring the planet soon.”

Word has probably already spread, Park thought dourly, remembering Chanur’s withering lack of sympathy. It was no secret that she had historically been the target of the crew’s little cruelties and mischiefs: they hated her for being Earth-born, for being ISF’s spy—and especially for her association with the ship’s androids, which others considered freakish. It would not surprise her if multiple people had conspired to cause her discomfort.

But she said: “Fine. But I’ll be making my report to ISF. And if we do learn who the culprit is, I’ll recommend disciplinary measures. Strong ones.”

“As will I,” Keller said agreeably, patting her hand. Then she sighed and continued, “As for the issue of Reimi, there’s not much we can do. The crew’s bodily health is solely within Chanur’s purview, and if ISF agreed with her recommendation to freeze Reimi, we must abide by that decision.”