It did not.
I pulled the temporary slate Tivid had given me closer.
At the top I wrote:
DOOR.
Below it:
OPEN / CLOSED / DOESN’T CARE.
Scarlet leaned over my shoulder.
“You making a survey?”
“I’m preventing homicide.”
“Same skill set.”
The silver-skinned woman saw the slate and stiffened.
I immediately turned it so she could see.
“Not names,” I said.
Her translator caught up a half second later.
Her shoulders lowered.
The traffickers had written things down too.
Names. Prices. Medical conditions. Sexual classifications.
Information could be another cage if the wrong person held it.
I erased the blank name field from the template.
“Preferences only,” I said.
Nora looked up.
“Food too.”
“Food?”
“There are three people who haven’t eaten since we boarded.”
I stared.
“Why?”
“One says the paste smells like a drug they used in holding.”
Zoe added, “One doesn’t eat animal protein.”
Scarlet frowned. “Alien vegan?”
“I don’t know. Maybe religion. Maybe species. Maybe she just hates gray paste.”