Transformation Space by Marianne de Pierres

scant colour in Mira’s face drained away, and she suddenly looked so tired that Thales thought she might faint.
    He took her arm. ‘Rene, please. I know her, andhave travelled with her. The things she says are true. She needs help, or the baby will die. The cell accelerator may save
     her child.’
    Rene looked away from them, as if to someone out of their view. ‘Very well, Thales. I’ll make contact with the clinic.’
    ‘Thank you.’ Mira steadied herself and nodded to Thales. She left the buccal.
    Thales watched her leave, and then looked at his wife.
    ‘We are alone now,’ he told her.
    ‘Strange company you keep these days, my husband.’
    ‘Fortune has taken me in unexplainable directions.’
    ‘Is it fortune? Your appearance …’
    ‘The scarring will soften,’ said Thales. ‘And the cause of it is not a story to be told in brief. I had hoped to see you again.
     I’ve thought of you often.’
    ‘I’m afraid that your fate is out of my hands, Thales. I would wish you well.’
    ‘That is all, Rene? That is all you would wish me?’ He couldn’t stop his voice from rising.
    She gave him her look of practised patience. ‘That sounds more like you, Thales.’
    ‘What sounds like me?’
    ‘You were always so easily hurt.’
    Thales faltered for a moment. ‘Is that how you remember me? As weak?’
    Her expression softened. ‘Not weak, Thales. But someone with a deep sense of entitlement.’
    Suddenly all the nervousness and the expectation of speaking to Rene again drained away in the face of her criticism. ‘I’m
     not the person you remember, or thinkyou know, Rene,’ he said stiffly. ‘And I’ll manage my own fate. But I would ask one thing for what has happened between us.
     One boon for a marriage lost.’
    She waited.
    ‘Whatever happens to me in the coming days, please take care of the Baronessa Fedor. So many things depend on her.’

J O -J O R ASTEROVICH
    ‘That’s it!’ Randall called down to them.
    Jo-Jo crawled up the crest of a dune and peered over. The Araldis landing port might have looked like any other outer-world
     docking arrangement if over half of it hadn’t been burned beyond recognition. There was movement in the ruins too: Saqr, crawling
     lethargically around the twisted remains of docking tubes and hydraulic platforms.
    ‘Shit,’ said Jo-Jo. ‘What now?’ The sky was lightening, with sunrise imminent. Already the air felt like it was blistering
     his skin.
    Randall pointed to a low-set catoplasma building still intact, on the near side of the port, at the base of a bare red-rock
     mountain. ‘Pellegrini buildings. For a bunch of nobles, they were big on bureaucracy. Been in a couple of their offices when
     we first arrived here. Franco liked to show off his stuff. I say we head there. Should be coolers and water, might even be
     some food left.’ She looked at Catchut. ‘You make it, Cat?’
    ‘Sure, Capo,’ the mercenary rasped. ‘Not dyin’ out here.’
    Rast nodded. ‘Let’s move then. Keep low.’
    Dropping down behind the last line of dunes, they skirted the breadth of the landing port until the sand became the rocky
     underlay of the mountain.
    A faint hot breeze prickled against Jo-Jo’s sweat-drenched skin. The relief wouldn’t last long. One ray of direct sunlight,
     and every drop of moisture in his body would evaporate in the blink of an eye.
    ‘Rest, Capo?’ pleaded Catchut.
    Randall glanced to the horizon. ‘Not unless you wanna change your mind about dyin’ out here.’
    Jo-Jo glanced up. About a hundred metres of climb to the building, and only precious minutes before sunrise. He reached for
     Catchut’s arm again and hooked it around his neck. Randall did the same on the other side.
    Between them, they clawed their way up the already burning red rock. Their time trapped in the
Medium
had atrophied their muscles, and Jo-Jo struggled to make headway, each movement the result of willpower, nothing else.
    One more step.
    One more