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“Did she? I’m sorry, Mike. A few seasons went by where he initiated her into the disgusting rituals of killing and eating human beings, a dark time where she pined for a rescuer who never arrived. He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. ‘This idiotic female—’ ‘This imbecile has made me—’ ‘—made me lose my temper, and I—’ ‘—cut him with my dagger, and he is—’ ‘—damn near slit her throat!’ ‘—bleeding like a pig!’ ‘Whoa, whoa!’ stormed the captain, starting forward. “Oh, sleep! Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!” Part 2 “Now,” said Ann Veronica, after the half-hour of exercise, and sitting on the uncomfortable wooden seat without a back that was her perch by day, “it’s no good staying here in a sort of maze.
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