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“Uh, Polly?” Mal’s voice jerks me awake. There are three problems in that: One, that I’m awake. Two, that someone had to wake me up. And three, that it was Mal who… that it was Mal who came in here and probably saw me drooling on my pillow and twisted around on the bedroll and who probably touched my forehead or my cheek for a split second as she tried to wake me.And that’s the fourth problem, isn’t it? That I’m thinking so much about whatever Mal is doing– whatever Mal did. No. It’s not a problem. That’s completely normal. I’m her superior officer. Technically. And I should be making sure that she isn’t doing anything… untoward. By which I mean, of course, unruly, not sexually inappropriate in any way. Because that would be completely, utterly ridiculous.She’s looking at me expectantly, skinny face full of angles and contours and dark, dark eyes. Her hair is black and straight and it frames her face and I can almost see her collarbone. But, of course, because I am a very, very responsible sergeant and I am not (I think) susceptible to Mal’s charms, if you can call them that, I grin at her a bit in a very friendly and platonic way and say, in a voice that sounds a little high, “Hahaha, what” and then dive below the covers again. I am not acting as professionally as I thought.She seems confused. “I was wondering if you wanted to talk to the new recruits. There’re a lot of girls, and a lot of boys, and one that’s a girl but that’s a boy.” Seeing that I’m perplexed, she adds “Like Jackrum. How she’s a man but he’s a woman. She’s a woman. He’s a man. You know what I mean.”I don’t, actually, but I nod vigorously, only my forehead above the blanket. I suddenly realize that this may not be the most attractive, er, stately view, so I slowly reveal my entire head. “That’s very interesting, Mal. They do know that that’s an Abomination, right?”She shrugs. Strangely, I see her wince a little like I’ve said something wrong. “It is. But you’re an Abomination, Polly. And I like you fine. We. We all like you fine.”Typical Mal. Squishing dreams right after they’re formed. Did I really just think that? “Thanks. Okay, we’ve already taught them how to march, haven’t we? What else is there, really?”She’s smiling. White, sharp teeth. “Yes, but the recruits weren’t the only thing I had to talk to you about.”Oh, sugar.I try to sound very, very, very normal, but it comes out more like a overflowing stack of porcelain in an extremely small cabinet: all at once and hurting. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Silence ensues– a long, awkward, filthy silence– then she speaks again.“We’re to go on a mission,” she says, as if nothing just happened. “A spying mission. We’re to observe things. By ourselves. They’re going to be taking our recruits and we’re going to sleep in the woods and sit by hidden campfires and find out people’s secrets.”“Um, our recruits?” I say, just like I was not fantasizing about sitting by a warm hidden campfire with Mal and leaning over with my head on her shoulder and grabbing her sharp cheekbones and her lustrous hair. Because I wasn’t. I was not fantasizing about that. Because that would be deeply, deeply wrong. And maybe an abuse of power.She sighs, like I haven’t been listening. “Yes. I just said that, Polly. And I hope you’re fine with this, but they’re temporarily stripping–” (and here, I gallantly reel my brain away from whatever dark and dirty things it was trying to reach) “– us of our ranks.”So not an abuse of power then says the tiny, disgusting part of my mind I try to keep hidden.“That’s completely fine, Mal. Completely, completely fine.” She smiles again. She should really get those teeth looked at. They’re a safety hazard. “And Polly? I need to tell you one last thing. We’re going to reunite with the rest of them.”