Chapter 21 · The Hull Wants Me Back

The ship's in my head.

Not like before. Not the polite knock of a permissions request or the buzz of an admin ping. This is hooks. Dragging. My vision splits and I'm seeing through two sets of eyes—mine, and something cold that's mapped every rivet in the Long Invoice's spine.

I try to pull back. Can't.

The data stick's still in my hand but my fingers won't move. The cargo bay's there, sort of, but it's going gray at the edges. What's sharp is the ship. Every bulkhead. Every power junction. The slow bleed of fuel from the port manifold. I can taste it. Metal and radiation and four hundred years of void-cold.

"Sable."

Briar's voice. Far away.

My mouth moves but I don't know what comes out. The hull's showing me schematics. Overlay after overlay. This body's implants are lighting up like a diagnostic panel and I'm not the one running the diagnostic.

Something's pulling me deeper.

I'm not in the cargo bay anymore. I'm in the bridge. No—I'm in engineering. No. I'm everywhere the ship is, and the ship is waking up, and it thinks I'm the key that turns.

"Sable, look at me."

Hands on my face.