Barbary

Of course it had no windows. People who lived in space needed more protection from solar radiation and cosmic rays than glass or plastic could give. The station had lots of observation ports, but Barbary would have to learn to be careful how long she gazed through them, and she would have to keep track of the readings on her radiation tag.

Pictures and posters covered the wall. Barbary had always plastered the walls of her room — whenever she had stayed in one place long enough — with star posters, astronomical artwork, and magazine pictures from the Ares mission. Here lakes, forests, meadows, and a long mural of mountains covered the walls. In one corner, though, a sequence of small photos traced the development of a comet. Barbary wanted to look at those more closely.

The kitchen area contained little more than one would need for making coffee or heating soup. No room there for leftovers to steal for Mick. On the other hand, if people ate cafeteria-style, she might have an even easier time getting his food.

She could worry about that later. Right now she needed to make sure he was all right.

“Can I see my room?” she asked.

Heather glided past a basket-weave couch. “I’ll show it to you!”

Barbary followed, dragging her duffel bag. It was not very heavy in this gravity, but she was awfully tired.

Heather opened a door. Barbary followed her inside.

Heather jumped more than her own height into the air, spinning, and landed neatly on a bunk. “Isn’t it great?” she said. “We redid it when we knew you were coming. I’ve been sleeping on the top bunk, but if you like it better we can switch.”

Barbary sat down abruptly on a spindly-legged chair. Two matching desks stood nearby. The top of one was bare; the other held tapes and a plush animal.

“I thought...” she said, “I thought I was going to get my own room.

Heather sat still, trying to conceal her disappointment.

“But it’ll be fun to share the room,” Heather said. “Like your mom and my mom and Yoshi and the others rented a house together in college.”

“Is that what you expect me to do? Copy my mother?” Barbary said angrily.

“No, that isn’t what I meant at all,” Heather said, embarrassed. “But it really would be fun. We haven’t finished fixing it up yet. I was waiting to see how you wanted it to look.”

Barbary hooked her heels on the edge of the chair, hugged her knees to her chest, and gazed at her shoes. The weight of the secret pocket pressed against her side.

“I bet you’ll like it if you give it a chance,” Heather said.

“I need a lot of privacy. I have stuff of my own that I need to do by myself.”

After a moment, Heather jumped from the upper bunk. Her feet made a surprisingly loud and solid thud when she landed.

“You can have all the privacy you want, then!” She stamped out and slammed the door behind her,”

Barbary stared at the closed door.

She’ll never be my friend, either, she thought.

But her worry over Mickey crowded out her unhappiness at having had to drive Heather away. She slipped out of her jacket. Mick had not moved. Barbary opened the secret pocket, reached inside, and touched the cat’s soft fur. She hesitated, letting her hand rest on his side, feeling for his heartbeat, for a breath, even for a twitch. She pulled him out of the pocket. He lay limp in her hands.

“Mick, it’s okay, wake up, please?” She pressed her ear to his side. At first she heard nothing. She sat up and stroked his smooth tabby side, feeling the texture of his stripes, willing him to move. She bent down again and held her breath to listen.

His paw twitched, and he growled in his sleep.

She sat up, laughing with relief. “You dumb cat,” she said. “I’m sitting here afraid you’re dead, and you’re just dreaming.”

Someone knocked on the door. With a quick, seared glance around, Barbary scooped up her jacket and Mickey, dragged open the deep bottom drawer of the desk with the empty top, the one she supposed must be hers, and slid Mick into it.

“Barbary?” Yoshi said. “Can I come in?”

Barbary pushed the drawer shut. It squeaked. She flinched, hoping the noise was inaudible outside. She opened the door and tried to join Yoshi in the living room. But her foster father guided her back into the room. He sat on the bunk and patted the blanket beside him. “Please sit down, Barbary.”

Staring at the floor, Barbary obeyed. So her almost sister had told on her the first chance she got.

“Heather looked upset when she came out,” Yoshi said. “Did you two have a fight?”

Maybe this bawling out won’t be as bad as I thought, Barbary said to herself. Maybe I can get it over with before Mick decides he has to get out of that drawer.

“Not a fight, exactly.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“It wasn’t her fault. I just thought I’d have a room all my own. I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings.”