Rafe's gaze darted between them. "Thirty-five. That's not that high, is it?"
Beka kept her eyes trained on her hands. "Actually, it is. And that's one of the lower estimates. We've gotten as high as sixty."
"Sixty!" Her brother gave a low whistle and sagged back in his chair. His eyes were wide. "Sixty," he repeated.
"Sixty," she said again. Chancing a look at him, she met his eyes and held them. "So I'm not allowed to do anything remotely strenuous until after the baby's born. That's why we're worried about the legality of this job; if it's the least bit hazardous, you have to tell us now."
He opened his mouth to start speaking, but the alarm set to indicate their slipstream portal beeped. Tyr and Beka headed for the cockpit while Rafe tried to escape, and both demand and answer were lost in the shuffle.
*****
They arrived at the drift two days later, with a total of nine days in transit. Rafe spent all his time evading their questioning about the job and arranging a meeting with their seller. On the second day after their arrival, Rafe received confirmation of place and time and went to find Beka. He found her in an ornately decorated shop, working on spending the money from the disk sale and some more besides.
As he approached, Beka asked Tyr, "Look at this. How many women actually wear stuff like this?" as she held up a magenta maternity shirt, frilled and ruffled within an inch of its life. Tyr didn't comment, but grinned as she pitched back onto a pile of similar shirts.
His statement reverted to that of boredom. "Beka, if you don't like anything in this store, can we go somewhere else? Since I'm not going to wear these, it lacks a certain amount of entertainment value."
"Wimp," she teased, but started toward the door. "All right, let's go. All this pink," she waved at the décor, "is making my skin crawl." She saw Rafe. "You're off the Maru. Does that mean you've actually set up a meeting?"
"Three hours from now, we meet him in Cargo Bay Four."
"Good. Now," she pulled him out of the store and over to the side of the main thoroughfare, "just how illegal is this? You haven't answered that question yet."
His eyes slid to the side. "Well, it's not exactly illegal, just...frowned on."
"Rafe!"
"What? It's not illegal!"
"Is there the slightest chance that anything could go wrong?"
"There's always a chance that something could go wrong." He caught her look- somewhere between give-me-a-break and a death glare- and added hastily, "But in this case, it's negligible."
"All right, we meet in three hours." Beka turned from him and looked around. She had to find a clothing shop that dealt in maternity clothes with some reason behind their existence, or else she had to take up sewing to make all her clothes fit. And sewing was not something that Beka Valentine-Anasazi did.
*****
The cargo bay was cluttered, but not with their seller. The three of them had been waiting fifteen minutes to meet him, who (according to Rafe) was usually punctual.
"Are you sure he said Cargo Bay Four, at 1500?" Beka asked as she paced past her brother, sitting dejected on a crate.
"Yes," he snapped, "I checked it three times. He must have been delayed."
Tyr lounged against a stack of cartons. "How does one become this delayed on a drift?"
"Legal trouble?"
Rafe received a glare as Beka demanded, "How much haven't you told us?"
"I've told you everything important! Except..."
"Except...what?" tersely.
He got a silly little grin on his face. "This stuff may not be hot, at least on this drift, but it's still a little warm."
"What is it, Rafe?"
"A chemical substitute for Flash, according to this guy. I've run tests on a sample of it- it's exactly the same, only much more potent. He has no idea how much resale value this stuff has!"
Tyr bellowed, "What?" He started to reach for Rafe, but Beka beat him there.
She snagged his collar and hauled him to his feet, pulling him up until they were face to face. "Are you insane?"
"Er..." Rafe looked between her and Tyr, glowering off to the side. "Yes?"
"You damn well are!" She let go and shoved him onto a crate. "Do you have any idea what that stuff does to you? Don't you remember Dad? Flash defines your life until it kills you. It did it to Dad, it nearly did it to me! Why are you running the risk? Do you want to be responsible for murdering everyone who takes it?"
"Wait, you took Flash?" He frowned curiously up at her from his splayed position. "You? Rocket?"
Beka sighed, ran a hand through her hair. "Yes, I did. It's not exactly something I'm proud of. Some of the crew managed to get me off it. Back to the subject at hand, though- why are you doing that?"
"It makes money. And rest assured I will not take that stuff. I'm not stupid."
"That's what I said. And then I nearly piloted us into a black hole." She turned to Tyr. "Let's go. I'll get the-"
There was a low metallic groan under her words. She stopped, listening to the sound of the distressed superstructure. Recognizing the ominous tones, she dived for a bulkhead, Tyr and Rafe following suit.
That noise was all the warning they got. There was a sickening screech of rending metal, simultaneous with a lurch to the side. They hadn't quite reached the wall when it occurred, and where thrown the rest of the way. Beka slammed into the wall front-first, with a grunt that rapidly turned into a pained moan. Her stomach had made hard contact with the wall; she brushed a hand over it as she faced the center of the bay.
The first thing she saw was a tower of crates falling directly toward her.
A hand on her arm pulled her to the side, out of the way, and a body covered hers to protect her from the flying wreckage.
Tyr pinned her to the wall as the drift's heaving intensified and the room became a tornado. The dreadful metallic screeching continued, assaulting their ears. Boxes fell, their contents exploding out on impact, bits of metal, plastic, and junk soaring haphazardly through the room. The tumbling was making her sick, and pinpoints of debris stung her face and hands, despite her human shield. Her heart was in her throat as she clutched at Tyr's shirt and felt warm, sticky blood. She only hoped Rafe had found safe harbor.
What seemed an eternity later, the motion stopped, and the wreckage slowly began to settle. The drift stayed at a list, though, and the lights flickered every few moments. Beka slowly opened her eyes and looked into Tyr's. "Are you all right?" she asked, focusing on the crimson splash on his shoulder.
He glanced at the affected area. "I'll be fine. How are you and the baby?" He eased her hands away from his chest and began examining their many nicks and cuts.
"We're good. A little shook up, but not even that badly, thanks to you." She patted her swollen abdomen. The inhabitant made no comment. "Did you see where Rafe went?"
"I'm here," her brother responded, muffled, from underneath a heap of cartons and carton shards. "I'm okay, but I need help getting out. I was just waiting for the end of your love-fest before I said anything to interrupt."
"Rafe..." Beka rolled her eyes, but started to pull a broken crate off the top of the pile. Tyr helped, taking the heavier ones. Even Rafe made a few paltry attempts at assistance from where he was located.
They worked in silence for several minutes. After that, Rafe was able to push the rest of the boxes off and stand. "Like coming out of a cocoon," he said, brushing himself off.
"Yeah, but a bug looks better," Beka replied, looking him over. He was cut, bleeding, a few bruises were starting to come out, and she didn't even want to know what the glowing purple goo on his shoulder was. "Ooh," she gasped suddenly, putting a hand to her stomach; she hadn't felt the baby move till now, and it must have chosen to celebrate with one heck of a hard kick.
"Beka? Is something wrong?" Tyr moved to her side, putting his hand over hers, while Rafe looked on concernedly.
She didn't answer for a minute, waiting to see if anything else happened. After there wasn't any more pain or movement for that long, she told them uncertainly, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." Glancing between her brother and her husband, she got a wave of dizziness and her stomach turned. She hadn't felt like that since her morning sickness had started to ebb. "On second thought, maybe I should sit down for a while," letting Tyr lead her over to an intact crate.
"Rocket? Are you sure you're all right?"
"No. But what difference does it make?" At his puzzled statement, Beka, still with a hand over her belly, explained, "The drift is probably on emergency lockdown. If that's the case, then we won't be able to get out. Go check."
After tapping the keypad several times, Rafe got no response. "She's dead. It'll take me some time to open it."
"So start working- ouch!" That was not a kick, hard or otherwise. It lasted too long and hurt too much.
"Beka?"
"Rafe, do it." She turned to Tyr. Lowering her voice so as not to alarm Rafe, she informed him, "We need to get out of here, now, and get to a doctor. Something is seriously wrong- I think I'm getting contractions."
"It's too early!" He kneeled down beside her and covered her stomach with his hand, frowning.
"Owww!" Beka watched Tyr's scowl deepen as another spasm of pain went through her. She grabbed his free hand, squeezing it as the slightly-more-than-a-twinge of pain surged and lessened- each burst was getting successively worse. Not only was this too early, it was happening too fast. Looking up to see her brother staring at her, she snapped, "Open the door, dammit!" He went back to work.
"I could feel the muscles contracting," Tyr murmured, removing his hand from her stomach. He left the other in her grasp. "Are they getting worse?"
"Yes! That first one? Felt kinda like a kick. This one? Worst muscle cramp ever!" she hissed.
"Anything else? Has your water broken?"
"No." She looked over at the door, Rafe working frantically to open it. "How long do you think that'll take?"
"A few-"
"Got it!" Rafe sang as the door whined open. "You were right- the entire drift's is on emergency lockdown, something about a meteorite hit that damaged environmental and nav equipment. I found information access and put in this code for a medical emergency. We've got a doctor waiting."
"Good, let's go." Tyr pulled Beka to her feet. "Can you walk there?"
"Of course I can walk there. Move!" Beka headed for the door, ignoring the weak wave of dizziness that washed over her briefly. Tyr and Rafe followed in her wake.