Hank ran his hands through his hair and yawned hugely then leaned over the screen on the bridge. “Why do you think there’s something to find?” he asked, scratching his chest.

“Call it a hunch.”

Mal had woken Hank up, and once persuaded the ship wasn't on fire and Zoe wasn't giving birth, the pilot had made his way to the bridge.

“You get many of those at …” Hank glanced at the shipboard chronometer. “God, at this time of the night?”

“It’s morning, Hank.”

“Not from where my body sits.”

“Well, it’ll sit outside in the rain if you don’t take a look.”

Hank looked up at the bridge windows, and the stair rods hammering down. “Rain? Looks more like we should be building an ark.”

“Hank –“

“Does Casmir like the going good or soft?” he asked idly, interrupting his captain without thinking. Then he saw the look on Mal’s face and the thought occurred to him that might not have been too good an idea.

“What?”

“The going. The ground. When he runs.”

“How the hell should I know?” Mal was rapidly coming to the end of his short temper.

“It should be in the papers. Or the form.” Hank grinned. “Might be worth a flutter if he likes it soft.”

In spite of himself Mal had to ask. “You know about horse racing? I thought cards was your game. And you said you and horses didn’t get on.”

“Only riding them. I've been known to put a little money on a filly or two.”

“You want me to tell Zoe that?”

“I meant betting.”

“Not the way I put it when I tell Zoe if you don’t get your brain in gear and check out the tab!”

Hank looked at him. “This isn’t doing your blood pressure any good.”

“Do I have to get my gun and threaten you?”

Hank grinned. “See? All you had to do was ask nicely.”

“Can you not shoot him?” Freya said, climbing up the steps behind them. “I think Zoe’s only just got him house-trained. And it‘ll be messy.” She held out a cup of coffee. “Here.”

Hank took it gratefully. “I love you,” he said sincerely.

“Hey, what about me?” Mal complained.

“I