“Are you afraid?”
“Yes, a little. Why do you ask?”
“You’re shivering.”
Pausing for a moment to consider this, Jos found it was true and wondered why - this place was probably the warmest on the ship. Still, he pulled his cloak tighter and gritted his teeth.
They walked on long-bladed grass that crunched delightfully at every step. Jos could barely remember the last time he had walked on grass - the smell was magical.
A sudden stampede of memory threatened to overwhelm him - everything came back so clearly. He could see the swings he had played on as a child - they were red, with black seats, high enough off the ground that he had felt really grown-up to sit on them and swing into the air. He had swung and dreamt of flying, of reaching to the heavens, of becoming a pilot of a ship to the stars. He played on the slide and the roundabout, on the see-saw and the climbing frame that was shaped like an elephant’s head. He played and he smelled the grass beneath his feet, fresh with frost or dew. Ghosts of children played across his eyes, walking the paths beside him, laughing and shrieking with equal glee, climbing the tall oak trees to his left, the beech trees to the right, sitting beneath a gnarled, old willow. For a moment he could see everything. Then he was back.
“It’s okay to be frightened,” Jonah said, in what Jos could only assume was supposed to be a comforting tone of voice - Jonah did not comfort well.
“Thank you but I don’t really need your permission. Some deranged terrorists are trying to destroy the ship and I’m trying to stop them. Every security guard on the ship is looking for us - and will probably shoot us on sight given that their boss seems to be behind it all. And here we are, strolling through a park…”
“An arboretum,” Jonah corrected him, almost sheepishly, “it’s an arboretum.”
“… strolling through an arboretum as if it were a Sunday afternoon and we hadn’t a care in the world. I think I have earned the right to be a little scared.”
