He was learning to function on autopilot. Even outings away from Moya, such as today’s, had
settled into routines, checklists, and entrenched habits.
Aeryn was waiting for him in the hangar. With one foot propped on the bottom step of the
transport, and D’Argo perched on her hip, she was a vision of maternal beauty.
“Ready,” John said.
One eyebrow quirked upward. “You’re sure.”
“Yes, I’m sure! I used the checklist. Food, change of clothes, tragk!vi*, burp cloths.
She went on staring at him.
“What?” he demanded finally. “I’ve got everything!”
“You might want to put on some pants.”
* ~ * ~ * ~* ~ *
*Sebacean for ‘diaper’.