Where Nothing Ill Can Dwell

Chapter 20 - Miranda

Ferdinand was so beautiful to watch.

I hadn't intended to spy on him. He had advised me to keep my head down and my ears open, so I tried to hack into the main computer system, hoping to learn something about the fate of the other ship.

My goals changed the moment I stumbled onto the camera system. The screen showed him huddled on the kitchen floor as the storm raged outside. He looked so miserable and lost as he stared at his pendant that I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him. Instead, all I could do was wrap my arms around the tablet and hope he could somehow receive my thoughts of comfort through the connection.

I didn't fall asleep until after he did.

When I woke up, he was already rummaging around the kitchen like a starving skylnx. I tried to open my door, eager to fix him breakfast, but it remained locked. For a few heartbeats, I toyed with the idea of breaking out, but once I saw he'd found something to eat, I relaxed back on my bed with Pooka and watched him more.

What would he do if he could leave? He said he'd take me with him to NAPLES, but from what he'd told me about the spacestation, I didn't think I'd like it. I'd miss the glorious sunrises and sunsets, the unpredictable yet wondrous storms, the gentle sway of the wind through my hair. I'd miss the fresh food and the icy springs and constant surprises of the forest's flora and fauna.

But I'd miss him if I didn't go. Strange how quickly he'd grown on me, how easily he'd worked his way into my heart until I craved his company. Maybe it was because he was something new I'd never seen before. Maybe it was just some silly infatuation I'd grow tired of down the road, but so far I felt a stronger connection to him than I had with any other living creature, even my mother. And even if my silly romantic notions fizzled out, I still believed he'd be a true friend in the end.

The storm blew itself out by the late afternoon, and I watched as Mom released him from the kitchen, ordering him to clean up what he could outside. I switched to the exterior cameras, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get a good view of him as he worked. And I liked watching him work the most. I loved the way his muscles rippled and flowed under his clothing. It wasn't the sheer bulk of them that mesmerized me—Caliban had plenty of muscles. It was the grace of his movements, how once he figured out how to efficiently do something, it almost seemed like dancing.

I'd finally found a camera that allowed me a perfect shot of him when my door slid open. Panic choked my throat, and I barely had time to slide my tablet under my pillow before my mom walked in.

She eyed my bed with suspicion before turning her attention to me. "I don't know what's gotten into you over the last few days, Miranda, but I'd like to stress once again that I wish for you to have as little contact as possible with the prisoner."

"He has a name, Mom."

"I know, but I'm trying to reinforce that he is a prisoner, and that he will take advantage of your soft and generous heart, just as Caliban did."­

A shiver coursed down my spine as images of the day Caliban attacked me raced through my mind. Nothing in Ferdinand's actions so far had indicated violence. But then, Caliban hadn't shown any indication of violence toward me until the day he snapped. "Ferdinand is far more civilized than Caliban."

"He's a male, and furthermore, he's a Santos. His father didn't become the head of NAPLES without stepping on people on his way to the top. Like his father, he'll use you for information, try to gain your sympathy, do anything he thinks will help him escape, and when he does, he'll forget all about you."

My heart skipped a few beats and sank into the pit of my stomach like a stone. Would he forget about me? Were his kisses nothing more than a ruse he'd used to seduce me to his cause? Was his promise to take me with him as hollow as the rotting trees in the nearby swamp?