Faring Soul - Science Fiction Romance (13 page)

Bedivere was walking normally, but as
they reached the halfway point between the ship and the doors he
began to slow his pace and she knew he was as fear-filled as
she.

Finally, he stopped.

“Just a few more steps,” she
whispered.

His hand was clamped around hers and he
looked at her, swiveling his head slowly like it was being cranked
by a rusty cog. “I suddenly…can’t walk.”

“It’s in your mind. It’s just the
fear.”

His grip on her hand loosened and
tightened convulsively.

She stepped around in front of him, so
that he could look at her directly. “It’s not a big deal,” she told
him. “If it doesn’t work, then I’ll pick you up and drag you back
to the ship and when you come round, you can cuss me out for
scraping your face on the dirt.”

He couldn’t even smile at her joke.

“Just one step,” she said. “That’s
all.”

He took the step quickly, like he was
getting it over and done with.

Nothing happened.

“And another one,” she said.

This one came easier.

“And once more.”

This time the step was more like his
natural stride.

Catherine studied him. “You must be
beyond the reach of the ship network by now. Can you tell if you’ve
switched over?”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple sliding
up and down. Then he moved her out of his way gently. He walked
over to the doors and turned to look at her. His hair in the bright
sunlight was an old gold color.

He was smiling.

Catherine hurried over to him,
happiness bubbling up inside. “It worked,” she breathed.

Bedivere lifted his hand and looked at
the sunlight playing on it, then up at the skylight overhead,
squinting at the dazzling sun. “It worked,” he said softly. Then he
picked her up and lifted her up high. “It works!”

Catherine was almost giddy with relief.
When he put her back on her feet, she had to grip the sleeves of
his jacket to hold herself upright.

Bedivere looked down at her, his smile
small, but genuine. There was something that looked suspiciously
like tears glistening in his eyes. “Thank you,” he said, his voice
very low.

She couldn’t speak. There was a painful
knot in her throat, squeezing and making her own eyes sting. When
it had passed, she said hoarsely, “I’d do it all over again in a
heartbeat.”

The look in his eyes. That was what
shifted everything. Afterward, she was able to pinpoint it exactly.
He looked at her and the look in his eyes changed.

A voice whispered in her head.
He
wants to kiss you
.

And for a breathless moment that seemed
like a fine idea, like the icing on the cake. It would be such a
kiss!

Her heart hammered and her whole body
seemed to wait, pulsing.

Then Bedivere stepped back away from
her and the moment passed. The sun blazed through the skylight, but
not quite as bright as before. Catherine blinked and cleared her
throat.

“I say we hit every bar in this place.
A drink at each,” Bedivere said and moved over to the three meter
gap between the doors. “You’re buying.”

“Of course I am,” Catherine said with a
snort.

They did their best. But the atmosphere
between them had gone wrong, somehow. Catherine spent the entire
time looking behind her and over both shoulders, as well as in
front and up and down, worried that some asshole would spoil this
for Bedivere. There were plenty of men who, with enough drink in
them, would want to take on someone Bedivere’s size just to prove
to themselves they were definitely of the male gender.

Bedivere drank, but spent more time
looking around, watching people, and absorbing details. And
thinking.

“Is something wrong?” she finally
asked.

Bedivere picked up his shot glass and
examined the play of the lights behind the bar through the caramel
colored liquid. “Not a single thing,” he assured her. It was his
sixth, but he was speaking clearly, still.

“We should maybe get you back to the
ship, anyway.”

Bedivere laughed. “That’s funny,” he
added.

She realized that the alcohol was
affecting him, after all. “No arguments,” she said quietly. “The
experiment is a success. We’ve celebrated. Let’s go home,
Bedivere.”

He looked up at her, blinking slowly.
“Do you know the way?”

“Yes. Which is probably just as well. I
don’t think you do right now.” She was shorter than him even when
he was sitting on a bar stool. She tried to ineffectually pull him
up onto his feet.

He cooperated enough to stand and hold
on to the edge of the bar. “Oh…wow,” he breathed. Then he looked at
her. “I didn’t say thank you.”

“Yes, you did.” She got her shoulder
under his arm. “This way.”

She made enough noise, stumbling around
the ramp, trying to haul Bedivere up it, that it roused Brant. He
was shorter than Bedivere, but still tall enough to take most of
his weight across his shoulders. Brant looked at her and raised a
brow. “I thought he had a better head for the stuff.”

“I don’t think his head is the problem.
It’s his body that won’t cooperate.” She drew in several breaths.
“He’s so heavy.” She hesitated, weighing up her options. “Would you
mind putting him to bed?”

“I think he would prefer you to do
that, don’t you?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Brant studied her. Bedivere’s weight
didn’t seem to be bothering him in the slightest, even though he
was doing most of the holding-up now. “You look like you need
sleep, too,” he said. “How long is it since you got more than a
couple of hours?”

“It’s been a while,” she confessed. It
had been days, really. She hadn’t slept more than an hour at once
the whole time Bedivere had been recovering.

“Go on,” Brant said. “I’ll tuck him in
and lock everything down.”

She stepped out from under Bedivere’s
heavy arm. “Thanks.”

It was only after she had fallen into
bed that she realized the budding hostility in Brant had been
completely missing.

Normally, she tried not to give a damn
about what people thought of her, especially those with whom she
would have little contact. Brant, as a Staffer, would soon be gone
from her life, even if he stayed on board for the rest of his. But
as she fell asleep, she couldn’t extinguish the tiny seed of hope
that his lack of animosity had planted.

It was Brant’s suggestion that they seal
up the entire landing bay and all four of them take a day away from
not just the ship, but the terminal, too.

“Go dirtside?” Catherine asked. “It’s a
long way to get back if we suddenly need to be gone and only one
way to get back.”

“It’s a channel that could be cut off
far too easily,” Lilly said.

“Bedivere is hooked into the ship now,
yes?” Brant asked, glancing at Bedivere. “You can monitor
everything up here and give us early warning.”

“Listen to you,” Bedivere replied. “You
decry biotech, but you don’t mind taking advantage of the immoral
convenience it offers.”

Brant swirled the remains of his
coffee, watching it spin. “None of us is pure, nothing is black and
white.” His gaze flickered toward Catherine. “I would much rather
be living a clean life on some low-tech world, surrounded by my
family, but we don’t get to live the life we want. We get to live
the life we’re handed.” He put the cup down and sat up, looking at
Bedivere directly. “So if I must share a ship with a mechanized
idiot, I’ll use that idiot’s skills to make the most of my
life.”

Bedivere grinned. “I think he’s calling
me stupid.”

“Just nod and agree with him,”
Catherine told him. “If a dirtside visit isn’t to take two days, we
need to start now.”

“I have a better idea,” Bedivere
said.

Sunittara (Sunita VIII). F.Y. 10.070

The mountain chain extended through the
spine of the secondary continent, with jagged peaks wreathed in
cloud. The val.ley Bedivere landed the ship in was just below the
tree line and the air was cool, fresh and invigorating.

The waterfall tumbling through the gap
between two peaks helped enormously with the sense of escape. The
moisture it added to the air nearby relaxed their skin.

The yellow sun overhead was bright and
warming.

“This place is better than a joy-joy
shot,” Lilly said, looking around, as she stretched her legs out on
the blanket she was sitting on. She plucked another strawberry from
the dish and bit into it.

“It’s an odd sensation, sitting outside
and eating at the same time,” Catherine observed. “Even just
sitting
outside. I’m usually busy doing something.” She
pushed her almost empty plate away from her. “What’s this called,
again?”

“A
picnic
,” Bedivere said from
where he rested full length in the soft green stuff that passed as
Sunittara’s grass. “It’s an ancient Earth word.”

“History buff?” Brant asked.

“I like to read.” He kept his eyes
closed, as the sun played on his face.

Lilly drank from an insulated cup and
gave a soft burp. “It’s hard to not like this, even if it is an
ancient thing. The view makes up for it.”

“It does,” Catherine agreed, glancing
at the towering peaks once more. “The lack of hostile life is very
relaxing.”

“I don’t think they’ve even opened up
this continent to settlement yet, have they?” Lilly asked.

“Certainly not this high up. You can
hear the wind in the trees.” Brant tilted his head to listen.

Lilly crossed her legs and sat up
straighter. “While we’re all so relaxed and contented, can I ask a
question, Catherine?”

Catherine shrugged. “You can always ask
questions, as long as you understand that sometimes, I’m just not
going to answer.”

“I’ll just keep asking then. One day,
you’ll answer.”

“You’re going to wear her down?”
Bedivere asked. “You won’t live that long.”

Brant snuffled back laughter.

“What’s your question?” Catherine
said.

“What are we doing here? I don’t mean
on this mountain. I mean, what are we doing here, now, this year,
in the middle of the Federation core planets? You’ve got the tech
you wanted. Now what?”

“You’re asking what my plans are?”

“
Our
plans,” Brant said softly.
“We get to go where you do. I wouldn’t mind knowing what’s in
store. Even the need-to-know business.”

Lilly nodded vigorously. “If the
Federation is after all of us just because we work for you, we
should know
why
, at least.”

“That’s two different questions,”
Bedivere pointed out.

Catherine considered the questions as
fairly as she could. “I had five things to do when I reached
Federation space. It took nearly twenty years to raise the cash for
the mesh tether and then at the last minute Sibéal asked for a
regulator for her husband, too, so we had to arrange that and wait
for it to be made. It meant we were sitting out in the fringes for
longer than I wanted to. So the list got a little longer.” She held
up her hand and counted off the tips of her fingers. “By the time
we jumped back here, I needed full rejuvenation and Bedivere did a
stint in the clinic, too. Touch up stuff.” Another fingertip. “A
new Itinerary.” A third. “Exchange the regulator for the mesh
tether.” She touched the fourth. “There’s one more job.”

Brant leaned forward. “What?”

“I won’t tell you. Not right now. Not
until we’re about to do it. But that’s why you were hired,
Brant.”

“Why won’t you tell us?” Lilly
asked.

“Because I’m a naturally suspicious
person, who has lived longer than anyone I know and got that way
because I don’t trust anyone. Living out on the fringes taught me
to be even more careful about who I share my secrets with. Brant,
be careful what you ask for. If I tell you everything, you won’t
like it. I’m saving you from a moral dilemma.”

“I survived the last one,” he said
gruffly.

“Very well. I won’t tell you because I
don’t know you well enough.”

Lilly let out a hiss of frustration.
“You want us to just do whatever you say?”

“I want you to do the jobs I pay you to
do,” Catherine said sharply.

Bedivere sat up. “That was only four,”
he said.

“What?” Lilly looked confused.

“You said you had five things you
wanted to accomplish while you were here. But you only gave us
four. What’s the fifth?”

He was deflecting the other two.
Shifting the subject.

Catherine drew in a breath, only now
aware of the tension between her shoulder blades. She let it out
and shrugged. “Number five is…I need to figure out what number five
is.”

Lilly looked at her oddly. Brant stared
blankly. Bedivere smiled, but kept his chin down so the other two
wouldn’t see it.

Now she was feeling really foolish.
“I’ve been working my ass off for nearly a hundred years. I’ve
saved more money than I think I’ve seen in a dozen centuries before
that. And now, suddenly, we’re here. It’s done. One last thing and
then…I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t even understand that,” Brant
muttered.

“Of course you don’t. You’ve only been
alive for fifty years or so and you’re still figuring out how life
works. I’ve lived every conceivable version of life I could ever
dream up, plus everything new that has ever been invented. I’m
trying to figure out what to do next.”

“What do you want?” Bedivere asked.

“That’s just it. I
don’t know
.”
She shook her head. “Something will come along. It always does and
if it doesn’t, then I’ll pick something at random and try that,
then try the next thing.” She shrugged self-consciously.

Brant put his fingers together
carefully. “How old
are
you, Catherine?”