He changed into his gym clothes, still feeling sluggish and heavy. But then he stopped. It wasn't just him, he realised, not simply his mood. It came from outside. The BRAIN felt tired, sleepy.

He sent a query but received nothing back of concern. He couldn't sense anything off in the systems other than this strange lassitude.

Maybe the clones? The presence of pseudo-offspring unsettled some BRAINs, made them react in unpredictable ways. This BRAIN seemed tired. It was an old organism. Maybe it was coming to the end of its useful life.

Or maybe it and he fed off each other's mood, even if the genetic engineers said it was impossible. Every space pilot he'd ever served with said they could tell when their ships were unhappy, and Seb sure as hell couldn't argue, based on his experience.

"Cheer up, old girl," he muttered, then laughed at his stupidity. The BRAINs didn't have sex, as the spacer jokes often pointed out.

He welcomed the graduated return to normal gravity in the corridor outside the gym, and used it to prepare for the heavier-than-normal gravity he'd experience inside. Exercising in one and a half gees wasn't much fun but it was the most efficient way for the crew to maintain condition.

As he stepped across the gym threshold, he readied himself for the unpleasant sensation of suddenly feeling a good forty kilos heavier, but he missed it in the shock of discovering the room wasn't empty. North stood over at the weights table. And worse, he'd already spotted him, so it was too late to run away. Again.

Seb made himself smile and nod in polite acknowledgment. "North."

His pilot said nothing, which didn't tell Seb much.

The room smelled cruddier than usual and he made a note to ask Jatila to check the scrubbers. If the BRAIN lagged in its environmental analysis, they'd have to rely on their mechanical systems to keep air quality pleasant. He didn't feel like inhaling stale sweat and gym shorts for the next few weeks.

He went over to the treadmill and logged in. Marta had set up individual routines for all of them and a bitch of one for him, of course. He pretended he couldn't see North staring at him, or notice his pilot had stopped his weights to do so, until he looked up and found the man, all sticky and grim, right in his face.

"Something I can do for you, North?"

"You've been avoiding me."

"No, I--"

"Liar."

"North, mind your lang--"

But he ploughed over Seb's reprimand. "You're a pretty good screw, Seb. But a night's fucking isn't worth losing a friend over."

"It's not me who's been packing attitude since we jumped planet. Do you do this to all the people you sleep with, or am I just lucky?"

"We used to talk all the time. I don't know why you won't talk to me about this."

North's well-muscled shoulders bunched, glistening with sweat, and despite himself, Seb couldn't help the coil of lust at the sight of him. The guy had high cheekbones and elegant lines in a pretty face that sometimes looked a good ten years younger than its owner's real age, and right now he sounded like his inner sixteen-year-old too.

Seb continued to run, as if he was concentrating solely on his routine, while fervently wishing the thud of his footfalls could drown out this conversation. "What's there to talk about? We had sex. Big deal. It shouldn't have happened. It won't happen again. I apologise if I misled you in any way."

North stared as if Seb had grown horns. "But you wanted me. You said--"

It had been too much to hope for, that North might not have heard what he said. "Men say a lot of things when they're getting laid. Don't tell me you never said stuff you wished you hadn't in bed."

"You shouldn't have lied." North grabbed Seb's towel and wiped his face, mopped the drips from the sopping blond curls on his forehead.

Seb pressed "hold" on the treadmill. "I don't recall you objecting to any of it."

"I didn't. It's you flipping me off afterwards that I'm mad about." He jabbed his finger towards Seb's face. "Fuck it, Seb, I like you. I respected you. You knew it'd screw things up between us and you walked out anyway."

"Yes."

"Why?"

Seb gritted his teeth. He hated to be the one to put that hurt into North's voice. He was a good kid. A good pilot, a good friend. He didn't deserve this.

"I don't know," he lied. "But we can't go on like this, and I can't fix it, and I can't go back and undo it. I'll sign any transfer request you want, with the highest recommendation."

North clenched his big hand into a fist, and Seb tensed, afraid his friend would lose control and make this worse.

"Don't, North."

North looked down at his hand as if seeing it for the very first time. He uncurled his fist and turned wounded eyes on Seb.

"You think I'd hit you? You really think I'd do something like that? To you?"

"I think you're a bit overwrought. It's not worth getting this worked up about. I'm not worth it."

He regretted saying the words the second he saw North's expression. Fuck. The kid was bruised, and he'd done it.

"I just want you to give me an explanation. Any explanation. You brushed me off like I was nothing, Seb. Like we weren't friends at all."

"Funny. There's a lot of that going around, Jason."

Seb turned. Jati stood in the doorway, glaring painful, pointy-ended death at the both of them.

Oh bugger.