But now she was forced to stay alone in the darkened shuttle, shackled to the bunk. She couldn’t reach her bag with her gear to try to short out the stasis, and she couldn’t get anywhere near the control panels of the shuttle. The interior of the shuttle was so confusing that, even if she did get loose, she wasn’t sure she would be able to fly the ship. And that was saying a lot. Prior to this experience, Starsa would have said she could pilot anything that was capable of becoming airborne. But this ship was different. The dark gray bulkheads bulged outward, and there seemed to be control units and readout screens on the walls and ceiling as well as the floor.

All Starsa could do was wait, biting her nails at her inactivity, wondering if the Rex would ever return for her. She drank the last of the water from her canteen and her stomach was trying to twist out of her body in its demands for food. She wished she had eaten more last night before the Rex took away her bag, but she remembered Nev Reoh’s caution just before they beamed down that they would have to conserve their supplies.

Then she started to wonder if something had happened to the Rex. Maybe she was stranded. She knew better than to panic, certain that the cadet ship would not be kept long from the planet. Someone would arrive to save them–she just needed to hold on. But her fear of being by herself, of hearing nothing but her own heartbeat, was beginning to drive her crazy. She tried singing to herself, but she had a terrible sense of rhythm and her attempts offended her own ears.

Long after it had gotten dark, both Rex returned about the same time. Starsa could see them through the front portal as they approached and softly bumped heads in greeting, a quick rub before twisting away. When the door opened, she could hear their slow, chirruping noises. Mainly it sounded like queries, questioning each other about what they’d seen, what to do about it. They both grew agitated, their tails abruptly slashing back and forth as one or the other would snarl or reach out with a sharp swipe.

They kept mentioning “Rex.” That was one word familiar to Starsa because Bobbie Ray often dropped his native name into conversations. Women seemed to love the rumbling murmur, and Starsa had sometimes teased Bobbie Ray by mocking him with the sound in front of another one of his girlfriends.

Now, Starsa thought she would try it out for real. “Rum‑murrow‑ah,” she murmured in a low voice, trying to catch that precise rise at the end that gave the Rex name such a lilting, enchanting flair.

The two Rex stopped short, looking at Starsa with almost comical surprise. She laughed out loud, unable to stop herself. Then they looked annoyed.

“No, I’m sorry,” she tried to tell them. But she couldn’t help giggling again at their affronted expressions. They looked exactly like Bobbie Ray that time she put double‑stick tape on his sleep cushions.

The slightly smaller Rex let out a short, sharp note, very high, while the other gave a plaintive, high‑to‑low tone, much lower‑pitched. Starsa’s translator beeped and gave a literal interpretation, “Indignation! Protest!”

“All right,” Starsa told them, raising both her hands. “I said I’m sorry.”

Grudgingly, the Rex gave her a twisted piece of some kind of dried flesh that she had to gnaw on. They also gave her water, which she was properly grateful for. She banged the dried meat against her bunk a few times before dunking it in the remains of the water to soften it. She hoped they would get the message, but the Rex were concentrating on their shuttle controls.

Soon after that, a thrumming sound began to vibrate the bulkheads. Then she understood why her bunk was padded both below her and along the curved bulkhead. As the ship lifted off the ground, she felt a subtle pull toward the hull. She realized the gravity generators were situated so the hull was “down” from every direction. The Rex moved easily around the interior, using the controls on all four of the curved walls, resting casually on the small bare platforms and protruding benches.

Suddenly, the engineering puzzle became clear and Starsa understood how the Rex could pilot their strange craft. They leaped from one control to the other, defying the gravity to twist and turn in the air, landing exactly where they intended. It was so effortless that it looked like a beautiful dance.

The shuttle lifted out of the canyon, rotating as it cleared the top of the plateau. Starsa felt her stomach heave against the lazy turn, jostling the food and water she had eaten too fast. At first she swallowed, maintaining control, but when the ship seemed to fall sideways out from under her–while her eyes told her they were flying straight up–she let out an unattractive burp.

Both Rex swiveled their heads around to gape at her. Starsa held onto her stomach, her eyes bulging expressively as she hung on.

The Rex showed by every stiff motion that they knew what was going on. Their ears were twitching rapidly back and forth as they gently slowed the motion of the shuttle, giving Starsa’s body time to adjust.

They seemed annoyed at having to move at a crawl, but Starsa thought that it served them right after leaving her alone all day. Defiantly, she took another bite of her meat stick. Maybe if she disgusted them enough, they would toss her back where they found her.

As the shuttle began to descend, she thought her idiotic plan might actually be working. But the wicked glare in the Rex’s eye as he leaped toward her told her otherwise. Then he touched a hypospray to her neck and she dived into blackness, her hand still clenched around the half‑gnawed meat stick.

At first Starsa thought she was dreaming, then from the brightness against her eyelids, she realized that time must have passed. She could hardly move at first, and had trouble convincing herself that she had been knocked out all night. It felt like only a second, and she was very groggy, as if she had spent the night walking around and around the shuttle. But according to the deep crease in her arm from the half‑eaten meat stick, she had been lying there like a log for hours.

Neither of the Rex were in the shuttle, and moving to the furthest reach of the stasis restraint, she still couldn’t see them outside. The shuttle was resting in a different canyon now, aimed toward a sort of oasis along one wall. It was the first truly green vegetation she’d seen on this planet, but then, she hadn’t had a chance to see much.

Her canteen was nearby, so she drank some water to clear her head, then finished off her meal from the night before. When she had drunk as much as she could, she considered what to do with her only tool. Tightening the cap, she took aim and hurled it at the main control panel. The canteen bounced against the plassteel, but there was a reassuring crunching sound from one panel.

Unable to reach her canteen for another throw, Starsa spent her time dismantling the supports of her bunk. It was like a compulsive action, peeling the cushions off the base and wall, shredding them as she did. But if she stopped, words and images swirled around in her head as if trying to fill the void. She almost longed to be knocked out again. She had never woken up alone before, and it was deeply unnerving. The silence spoke too loudly, telling her that she wasn’t there if no one was able to validate her existence. Life was interconnected–she was nothing, yet she couldn’t be nothing, and she had to do something, anything to prove she was alive. At least the destroyed bunk was a testament to her will.

She noticed immediately when one of the Rex came down the rocky wash at the bottom of the canyon. He dropped down to one knee and perked his ears at some sound. Her only warning was a slight sideways flattening of his ears as the other Rex leaped out from behind a pile of jagged boulders that had fallen from the wall. Starsa thought they were fighting, but the bigger Rex rose up on his toes, dodging back before darting in to give the smaller one a few solid bats on the side of the head.