Ghost Planet (30 page)

“That would’ve been on the application.”

“He was no match for you, Murphy.”

“Would that refer to the cooking, or…?”

“I’ll leave you to ponder that.”

“Unacceptable answer!”

“If you can’t take the heat, love…”

He grinned at my borrowing of his term of endearment, even mimicking his pronunciation. “I expect you to give me a fair trial, under optimal conditions.”

“Not if you keep me up talking all night.”

“Fair enough. Cut to the chase.”

I frowned. “I guess I always felt something was … off. Or missing. From very early on. I could never define it, for him or myself, so I assumed I was imagining it. Borrowing trouble, you know?”

He took hold of my hand. “I do know. It was the same with Lex and me.”

“Really?”

“Well, that plus the fact we turned everything into a competition. And had horrible screaming rows every night.”

“Screaming? I don’t believe it.”

“True, unfortunately. Happened at a family dinner once. Funny, my mother hated her on sight.”

At first I derived some satisfaction from this—but it led to wondering what his mother would think of
me
. At least Lex was human. Babies made by Lex and Murphy would get to meet their grandparents and aunties, but ghosts weren’t allowed on Earth. People were afraid we might spread like a disease.

But this kind of thinking could easily ruin the rest of our evening.

“So what happens now?” I asked him.

“What do you want to happen now?”

“You seemed to have some very specific ideas earlier.”

“That was when you weren’t so sleepy.”

“Who says I’m sleepy?”

He tilted his head to one side, studying me.

“Could be I’m just very relaxed. If you’re looking for optimal conditions for your trial, I’d say that’s a critical component.”

“Hmm, an excellent point. If this were
your
trial, how would you go about verifying your subject is relaxed but not sleepy?”

He was still holding my hand and I rubbed my thumb over his. “I’d recommend observing your subject in a sleep-conducive environment.”

Murphy rose from his chair. I gasped as he bent and lifted me in his arms. He carried me to the bed and gently lowered me. “Will this do?”

“Yes, excellent choice.”

“What next? Visual inspection?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t trust a visual inspection.”

“Inquiry, then.”

“I’m afraid further inquiry could have a soporific effect. I think you can do better, Dr. Murphy.”

“I have it now. Close your eyes, please.”

“Ah, there’s a risk there—”

“Close your eyes, Miss Cole.”

I complied, and his hands slid slowly up my sides as he peeled my shirt over my head. Heat flamed out across my abdomen as his fingers moved against my belly. He unfastened my jeans and tugged them down my hips. My underthings were washed and dripping in the shower, so I was nothing but flesh now.

He grew quiet and still, and I squirmed a little, imagining him staring down at my body in the candlelight. We’d only made love the one time—in complete darkness.

“Can I open my eyes?”

“No, you may not.”

I waited another full minute, and my arms fanned out over the blanket as I sought the hands that must be somewhere close. My hips lifted slightly, anticipating and longing.

“Murphy?”

“Are you cold, Miss Cole?”

My body was trembling, but not from cold. I shook my head, gripping the bedding in my fists.

I felt something move against my forehead and I tilted my head back. My brow furrowed as I concentrated, trying to identify it. Neither rough nor particularly soft. Not flesh, or cloth. But as it slipped slowly down the bridge of my nose, I smiled with recognition. A spear of lavender.

The bud head moved down to my chin, caressing my jaw and cheeks. Then it tickled its way down my neck, dipping between my breasts.

I moaned as it circled first one nipple, then the other.

My back arched as it traced down my belly, diverting down one leg, shifting to the inside of my thigh before continuing all the way down to the arch of my right foot.

As the spear started up my other leg, I let my knees fall open. It traced up and down the inside of each thigh, and my hips convulsed in little spasms as it spiraled around each hipbone.

The spear came again to my mouth, and I parted my lips to follow the tip with my tongue. As I did this I recalled that something warm and desirable controlled the other end—I could hear its labored breathing.

My hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of shirt, and I pulled him down onto me. “I need you
right now
.”

He pinned my wrists down to the bed, lowering his lips to my ear. “Response to stimuli confirms sufficient level of arousal.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

“I concur.
Please proceed
, doctor.”

His mouth came down on mine as he released my hands, and despite my trembling and fumbling I managed to work him free from his pants. He sank into me slowly, solidly, and our connection opened.

I gave a startled cry as sensation assailed me from every direction.

“Pace yourself, love,” murmured Murphy. “I’m thorough in my trials.”

Reunion

The honeymoon ended the next morning at precisely 8
A.M.

Murphy brought me a cup of tea and I pulled the blanket over my head. “When are they coming?” I groaned.

He bent and uncovered my face, kissing the tip of my nose. “Half an hour. Better get up if you want breakfast and a shower.”

“Hmm.” I considered a new tactic. I took hold of the blanket edge and pushed it slowly down past my breasts, my abdomen, and finally my hips. I raised my arms and stretched like a cat. “Ten minutes for shower. Ten minutes for breakfast. Ten minutes for…”

I glanced at him, grinning as I saw him unbuttoning his pants. “It’s not going to take ten minutes, love.” I squealed as he grabbed my legs and dragged me to the edge of the bed. “You exhausted all my reserves of self control last night.”

Unlike the drawn-out sensuality of the night before, this was instant gratification. Grunting and panting and clutching. I erupted with a ragged cry a single heartbeat before the first knock sounded.

“Someone’s early,” I grumbled.

“Fifty euro says it’s Ian,” Murphy whispered, nibbling my earlobe.

“And Julia,” I countered, pushing him up. “Take it easy on him, Murphy. He was hurt and confused. It was just a flirtation.”

Murphy’s eyes widened. “Ah
ha
, you admit it!”

I gave him a playful slap on his pale and perfect behind as he hopped up and zipped himself in. “I don’t think you get to be self-righteous about this, considering you were using your food-as-foreplay techniques on his
wife
.”

He turned slowly. “My
what
?”

He made a grab for my ankle and I slithered away, snatching up my clothes and seeking refuge in the bathroom.

“Answer the door, dear!” I called over my shoulder.

*   *   *

When I emerged I found Ian and Julia sitting on our small sofa—cozily holding hands. Murphy met me with a fresh cup of tea, one eyebrow arched in a perfect expression of
You’re going to pay for that
. I hoped it wouldn’t be by eating my own cooking.

I turned to greet our guests and Ian said, “You’re pink and fresh this morning.”

They would certainly have heard the tail end of my passionate exuberance from outside, but I’d hoped he’d take the high road.

“Pregnancy suits her,” added Julia, meaning to make up for Ian, I think, but deepening my embarrassment.

Murphy slipped an arm around my waist and kissed the back of my head. I nestled against him, and he stood holding me as we drank our tea. Maybe Ian would have said he was posturing—marking his territory. Maybe he was. But it didn’t feel that way to me. It just felt nice.

“Hank said she was going to be late,” said Ian. “There was a transport of food and supplies due in this morning.”

“Should we go and help her?” asked Murphy, his thumb rubbing little circles against my stomach.

“She said she had it covered.”

There was another knock at the door, and Murphy released me and let Gavin in.

“How was your night?” Murphy asked him.

“Okay,” he replied, scrubbing his fingers against his freshly trimmed beard. “I didn’t sleep much, but—”

I felt a light rush of air against my face, and an expectant tingling along my spine. Pinpoints of color multiplied and assembled before my eyes.

“Oh God,” I murmured. Murphy reached for my hand. The video at the counseling center had done little to prepare me for this real-life demonstration.

Staring at the new arrival, a film of sweat formed on my face and neck. Too strong a reminder of my status as a copy, and of the fact we could be there/not there at any given moment. Did I enjoy any protection from that, now that I was detached?

Blake took a step and stumbled, but quickly righted himself. He stared at each of us in turn, obviously confused. He looked heavier, and less tan. His eyes found Gavin, and I watched his bewildered expression give way to relief.

“I just had the worst fucking nightmare, brother. That same one about the avalanche.” He glanced around again. “What the hell did I drink last night? I don’t even remember where I am.”

Murphy squeezed my hand. “Stay here with Ian and Julia.”

“No, Murphy, I want to go with you. I need to understand what happens.”

“You do, love. You’ve lived it.” He bent closer, speaking softly as Blake’s questioning of Gavin grew more insistent. “I don’t mean to dismiss you. I don’t think you’re not up to it. It’s just the potential for conflict in this particular case. I want to focus on them and not be worrying about you.”

I felt more inclined to face it, conflict and all, in hopes of exorcising some of the demons Blake’s sudden appearance had let into my head. But I could see it was important to Murphy.

“Please be careful.”

He nodded and headed for the door. “Let’s go outside and have a chat, lads.”

“Who the fuck are you?” demanded Blake.

Murphy introduced himself as he herded them out, closing the door behind him.

I was still blinking at the door, feeling troubled, when Julia asked, “How’s your head, Elizabeth?”

She smiled as I looked at her. I was starting to like her in spite of myself. “My head?”

“Blake hit you hard enough to knock you down. I was just wondering if you’re feeling okay. Any dizziness or headaches? Nausea?”

“No, none at all.” That wasn’t exactly true. “A little nausea from time to time, but that started a few days ago.”

“That’s hormones.” She frowned in sympathy. “It might help to have a bite to eat when it happens. What about Murphy? Are you able to tell me why he’s suddenly over his injuries?”

I grabbed a chair and dragged it over to the sofa. “I have an idea why, but it requires some explanation.”

I told them about our discovery of the telepathic bond—about our memory sharing, and Murphy’s belief that I had healed him while he slept.

“Do you think this is something we can do too?” asked Julia. I was pleased to see Ian’s attention focused on her, not me.

“I suspect so. In fact, it may be what triggered our detachment.”

Julia shifted on the sofa, and Ian let go of her hand so he could slip his arm around her.

“How did you do it?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I don’t think it’s complicated. Be together. Talk. Touch each other. Same stuff you were doing back on Earth. I’m not suggesting…” I thought for a second about how to word the next part. “I doubt physical intimacy has to be part of it, unless you want it to be. I mean, obviously that’s not an option for all—”

“You’re both fucking nuts!” a male voice shouted just outside. We heard feet pounding down the stairs and I ran to the door.

I found Murphy and Gavin exiting the apartment across from ours. “Let me guess. He didn’t believe you.”

“He will soon enough,” replied Murphy, looking tired. Two nights of limited sleep were catching up with both of us. He glanced at Gavin. “When he comes back, try to keep him calm. Talk to him and answer his questions, but don’t let him get to you. It’ll be harder for him to stay angry that way. Come find me if you need help.”

Gavin gave a weary nod. “You know, we could show him. Seeing the body might help him to—”

“No.” Murphy and I replied in the same breath. My heart lurched and Murphy’s hand came to my back.

“Be patient with him,” I said. “It’s not an easy thing to understand. He doesn’t feel any different than he did before.”

Gavin left us, and we were about to venture out into camp when Hank showed up. In soldierly fashion, she appeared to have accepted the change in camp leadership without question. She gave us an inventory of what had been on the transport and what they’d done with it all.

As we wrapped up talk about water filters and pinto beans, Hank said, “Garvey also brought a couple of new arrivals. Picked them up outside New Seattle. I guess Blake was expecting them.”

“Where are they?” I asked.

“Waiting downstairs. Blake always wanted to meet new people right away.”

“I suppose we should meet them,” said Murphy. “And figure out if we’ve a place to put them.”

Ian and Julia followed Hank out, leaving us alone again. Murphy had just pulled me into his arms, murmuring tantalizing promises about the punishment I was to expect for my earlier snarkiness, when the door opened.

The mother of all landmines detonated right in my face.

“Rose? Holy shit,
Rose?
”

*   *   *

I didn’t have time to think. I didn’t have time to
breathe
.

One moment I was in Murphy’s arms. The next I was in Peter’s.

He hugged me fiercely and his lips came down on mine. His smell washed over me, reviving memories and dormant emotions. It was both familiar and surreal—I felt like I’d transported home. And yet …

I planted my palms against his chest, breaking free from the kiss.