Unmade by Amy Rose Capetta Page B

cleared her throat and said, “We really should be helping with—”
    â€œWhat? Survivors? They know how to walk across a dock.” Lee turned back to Zuzu. “We’re going to have a fleet soon, and we need them armed.”
    â€œOh, right,” Zuzu said, tugging at an ear stud. “I’m used to
thinking
about weapons. Not so much actually using them.”
    â€œWell, things are about to get really hands-on,” Lee said.
    Ayumi looked four different kinds of upset.
    The last of the survivors from Res crossed the dock, and on the other side, Renna let out a full-ship sigh.
    Â 
    She wasn’t the only one who liked things quiet. Cade had spent years kicking people out of her dressing room, slapping threats on anyone who stared at her for too long. Her new urge to bring the human race together wasn’t the same thing as wanting them all within touching radius.
    Cade took a walk, admiring the acoustics of the emptied ship. She was so tuned in that she heard the dull knocking right away. It was coming from the common room, behind one of the cushions that survivors had been using as makeshift beds.
    Cade pushed aside a wall panel and found Mira, knees shoved to her face. She stared out, all green eyes and defiance.
    â€œWhat’s this about?” Cade asked.
    Mira pulled her crossed arms tight and Cade noticed the places where they were still dotted with baby fat. “I don’t care about that other ship. I like it here.”
    Rennik and Lee had been doing a maintenance round, and hooked around the door frame at the sound of voices.
    â€œWho are you talking to, Cadence?” Rennik asked.
    She stepped aside to reveal Mira.
    Lee didn’t look surprised.
    â€œWe’re still close enough to
Everlast,
” Rennik said. “We can hail them and have them here in—”
    â€œNo!” Mira sprang out of the panel. “Please.”
    â€œShe has no reason to go with them.” Cade’s own past rose again. Andana, in all of its anti-glory.
    â€œThe girl needs to speak for herself.” Lee retied an errant hair knot and did her best to look wise. “State your case.”
    Cade got the feeling anyone with a semi-functional heart wouldn’t be able to turn Mira away once they heard her story. Wanting to know what had happened to her was like wanting to hear a sad song—Cade got the feeling it could drag her under, but it would also scrape her against something she needed to feel.
    Mira didn’t pour out a story, though. She kept her eyes hard and put a hand to the wall. “Renna let me stay.”
    Renna
was
the ship—she had the first and last word on the subject.
    That was enough to take the air out of Lee’s objections. Under normal circumstances, Rennik would have let it go at that, but he was still sizing up Mira as if every pound she added to the ship had to be worth it.
    â€œIf you want to stay,” he said, “you’ll be counted on to help.”
    Mira nodded like he’d handed her a hot meal, a birthday present, and a kitten all at once. She skittered out of the common room and turned back when it became clear that no one was following.
    â€œAll right, then!” she said. “What do we do?”
    â€œ
We,
” Lee muttered. “Universe help us.”
    Cade didn’t bother hiding her smile.
    Â 
    Mira’s first job was to grab tables from the storage closet and set them up in the control room to help turn it into a center for the finding and gathering of the human race. She rushed, a blur of pale brown hair and bright eyes, so eager that she brought five more tables than Cade needed. Lee unrolled charts of all the known systems. Ayumi tore blank pages out of a notebook, which Cade patched with tape so that the huge sheet laid flat, taking up a good portion of the floor.
    She kneeled in front of it, pencil in hand. Rennik claimed the starglass. Lee and Ayumi manned the charts. Mira sat