In the Company of Others (51 page)

A perilous hold. Once contact was broken, Aaron began convulsing violently, his eyes rolled up so only the whites showed, a foam appearing at the corners of his lips. Malley strained to keep the chair upright while avoiding the gold-veined hands flailing in every direction. The strapping restraining the 'sider stretched but didn't break, At wrist and ankle, it dug into his flesh tightly enough to guarantee bruises.

Then, as abruptly, Aaron was still, except for the slow rise and fall of his chest. Malley let go, one hand at a time, sending an urgent glance at the now-silent machinery. One of the techs—Benton—gave a shaky thumbs-up.

“How's Petra?” Gail said into the ominous quiet.

“Give me a second,” Aisha snapped.

Gail walked over, carefully not looking at Aaron. She understood Rosalind all too well now. The more time she spent with him, the less she could bear seeing him reduced to this.

“Well?” Gail asked, looking down at what appeared to be a woman peacefully asleep. More than peaceful—Petra's face looked almost esctatic. “Anything?”

“Some peaks on Sazaad's cog screen,” Aisha said, consulting a notepad handed her by another tech. “We'll have to analyze those, but everything else appears to measure nominal. I'm surprised she didn't come out on her own when the alarms went off—must be pretty deeply under.”

“Can you bring her out of it?”

Aisha scrutinized her patient. As she did, her fingers absently stroked the spider brooch on her lapel, a tiny thing most people didn't spot on the intensely colorful coat—a favorite, Gail remembered. “I'll assume you've reasons for that, too?” Aisha asked, her usually expressive voice toneless.

“I do.”

Aisha released Petra's arm from the remote, then took the woman's limp hand in both of hers and began to rub it gently. “Petra,” she called. “Petra ...”

Petra's eyes flickered under their lids and she smiled.

“Petra ...”

Her eyes opened, revealing dilated pupils that quickly shrank to normal size. “Yes, Dr. Lynn? Aren't we doing the experiment?” Petra blushed and struggled to sit up. “Oh, dear, did I fall asleep on you? That happens to me all the time.”

“The experiment went—” Gail deliberately didn't look at Aaron, “—very well, thanks, Petra. How do you feel right now?”

The blush deepened. “Well, I—feel pretty wonderful, Dr. Smith.” The woman giggled, tried to stop herself, then giggled again. Aisha's lips twitched, even as she and Gail traded glances.

“Is this how you usually feel waking up?” Aisha asked.

Her green eyes were sparkling. “I'm always happy and relaxed during the trance—that carries through when I come out of it.” Another infectious giggle. Petra put her hand over her lips as if to stop herself “I don't remember ever feeling
this
happy before. It's quite amazing.”

“Thank you, Petra,” Gail told her. “Dr. Lynn will take more details from you, if you don't mind.”

From the contented look on the assistant engineer's face, Aisha could take all the details she wanted.

“Care to explain?”

Gail whirled, saying: “Aaron!” perhaps a little too enthusiastically for the moment.
Maybe everyone was too busy watching Petra giggle and coo.
No such luck. Aaron looked like he'd been run over by a freight trolley, but he smiled up at her with a warmth that said he'd heard the emotion in her voice.

Malley wasn't smiling at all.
In fact
, Gail thought with disgust,
the stationer was beginning to look downright grim.

Did he think she was a fool? They were going to have to talk—
she wasn't looking forward to it.

Gail firmly controlled her visible reactions as she went to Aaron's side. “First, tell me what you experienced,” she requested, keeping it professional.

The way his eyes lingered on her mouth didn't help a bit.

FIFTEEN hours.
Didn't sound like much, if you were talking a shift and a half to cover someone late, or how long that someone, usually Syd Denery, could sleep after too much partying.

It wasn't much, when you were talking about time spent screaming through the darkness, aiming at a tiny ball of dirt somewhere out there.

Even less
, Malley thought,
when the end result would be standing on that ball of dirt, without walls or a roof to be seen.
Just standing, a column of atmosphere, taller than Thromberg was long, pressing on your shoulders, your feet glued to the floor—the
ground
—by gravity that had nothing to do with the capable maintenance guys in Outward Five.

“You seem a little unsettled tonight,” Aisha observed, her hand poised over Malley's forehead. “Want to talk about it first?”

The stationer shook his head. “There isn't time. I'll only get one more shot at this before we—arrive.”

He closed his eyes as his companion's fingers traced his eyebrows, then pressed gently into each temple, rubbing slowly at the tension there.
She'd put up with a lot, these past six nights.
“Sorry, Aisha. It was rough, today, with Aaron. That's all.”

“Yes, it was. But worthwhile, don't you think? Your friend did. He's very brave.”

“And stupid,” Malley growled.

Her fingers lifted, and he opened his eyes. Aisha's head was tilted, her expression puzzled as she studied him. The light from the candles she'd placed around her room drew sparks from the tiny gold-and-crystal insects in her hair. This late, she wore layers of a silky fabric, its waves of red, yellow, and orange lapping at her midnight skin. It resembled nothing Malley was used to calling clothing.

“Why is Aaron stupid?” she asked.

Malley took a deep breath and blew it out with a laugh. “Just kidding. I'm always teasing him—keeps him from being too serious about life. Can we get started?”

Aisha turned and went to her cabinet, then returned with the headset and goggles. “Lie down, if you're in such a hurry not to talk to me.”

She had the oddest bedside manner. “Is this part of the therapy, Dr. Lynn?” he asked her, using his best smile. Malley stayed sitting on the edge of her bed.

“Maybe.” Aisha had a pretty heart-starting smile of her own. “Or it could be part of being a friend, Hugh Malley.”

“Friends, huh?” Malley nodded, thinking of the reaction if he brought this exotic version of the Earther into Sammie's.
Knowing Aisha
, he reminded himself,
she'd fit right in
—after making most of his friends faint with envy.

Malley felt confused whenever he thought of the man, of what Sammie and the others had done to the
Merry Mate II
. Of what they might have done to Aaron, if he'd been on his ship.

Not routine
, Malley thought, suddenly homesick. Nothing was anymore.

“Friends talk to one another,” Aisha ventured, taking her time untangling part of the headset. “About what makes them happy—or troubles them—”

“I don't want to talk—about today or Aaron.”

“Ah,” she said, standing so her thighs touched his knees, reaching to place the headset on his head. “I see. Who else don't you want to talk about?”

Malley loved Aisha's voice, if not her perception. He rested his hands on the roundness of her hips, and her smile broadened. Encouraged, he used this light hold to pull her into his lap. As he'd suspected, she fit quite nicely, one arm trailing cool silk as it went around his neck.

“And this is to distract me from finding out who you want to talk about—or don't want to talk about?” Aisha said with a laugh. “It might work—but then there's your session to consider.” She calmly finished adjusting the headset, seemingly oblivious to his interested exploration of the warm territory under the silks.

“Could do more good,” Malley mumbled, quite charmed by what he was finding, and by now thoroughly distracted himself. He dipped his head, aiming for her neck and anticipating sweet smells and softness, only to have Aisha slip the goggles over his eyes before his lips touched anything but air.

“Be good and take your medicine,” she said. “You've come a long way this week and we mustn't lose momentum.”

He felt the light brush of her mouth against his, as if in regret, then his lap was cold and empty. Malley sighed and blew a kiss in her direction, before lying back on the pillows and swinging his legs up and around. “You know what they say about all work and no play, Doctor,” he grinned, unrepentant. “Look what's it's done to Her Ladyship.”

“Gail.”

The word wasn't quite ice-edged, but close. Malley pulled the goggles from his eyes and peered at her. “I didn't mean it as an insult—your ‘Gail' doesn't seem to be the playful sort. That's all.”

“Because she hasn't returned your advances?” Aisha asked, the lilt in her voice accentuated by a hint of scorn.

“Whoa,” Malley said, sitting up and deciding he was insulted. “What advances?”
Anyway, if he'd made any serious ones, they'd have been returned.
Gail Smith wasn't immune—
until lately
, he added to himself.

“You're going to tell me you haven't displayed interest.”

Malley felt his face starting to burn. “I'm always—interested,” he said truthfully enough. “But unless it's mutual, I don't bother—you know, this really isn't any of your business, Aisha.”

“It could be, if it is upsetting you—or affects Gail.”

“Trust me. Gail Smith isn't being affected by me. In any regard.”

“Ah,” Aisha stretched out the syllable until Malley felt she'd expressed just about every possible reaction, including disbelief. Then she knelt in front of him, silks spreading over the floor, her hands on his knees. “But then there's your friend,” she said, eyes serious. “The one who
is
affecting Gail.”

“Aaron? What do you know about him and—” Malley rubbed one hand over his face, then dropped it into his lap and gazed at her fondly, if with some exasperation. “You set me up.” He sighed heavily. “Look, I wasn't going to talk about it. I didn't think anyone else had noticed. Maybe it's nothing—”

Aisha smiled back at him, but sadly, as though they shared some grief. “Nothing? A polite and friendly man—whose eyes can't leave her for more than an instant. A reasonable, sensible man who doesn't just endure uncomfortable and dangerous tests. No, he conquers them for her, like some knight on a hopeless quest.”

“Hopeless is right. Aaron's playing the fool to fantasize about her,” Malley surprising himself by the bitter note in his voice. “Not that I blame him. A pretty face can be a powerful distraction. And, with what he's lost—the pressures he's under to help with the Quill—the doubt about himself? Wonder is he's stable at all.” He paused, then growled, “Which means your Gail should know better than to encourage him.” Without intending to, Malley remembered how her hair had drifted against Aaron's cheek—and the startled, then lost look on his friend's face.
Potent weapons, the woman had
, he thought bitterly, wishing he'd snapped her neck when he'd had the chance.

“Know better?” Aisha repeated thoughtfully. “We'd all like to know better, Malley—to pick the object of our affections using our heads, not our hearts.”

“You think Dr. Gail Smith, Earther, scientist—bloody ruler of this ship—feels anything for Aaron?” Malley tried to laugh, but her expression made him stop. He went on almost angrily. “Aaron's her ticket to glory. If a few smiles make him work harder, risk more—why not? She manipulates people better than anyone I've met. I've seen it for myself.”

“Then you've been looking in a mirror, Malley,” Aisha accused. “You are so much the same there's hardly air for the rest of us to breathe when you're both in the lab.”

“We're the same?” Malley curled his left arm and smacked his right hand against the bicep. “Think I grew this studying at Titan University or being pampered on Earth?”

“I think you excelled at anything you did, the same way Gail Smith excelled. Not because anyone expected you to, but because you couldn't do anything less. You are both driven, passionate about your causes, single-minded to the point of obsession, and frustrated by anyone who can't follow your intellectual leaps. You both flip from obnoxious to charming at will. I only put up with either of you because you want the truth—and you care about what that truth means to others.”

Malley realized his mouth was open and closed it firmly.

Aisha wasn't finished. “Gail's capable of many things—but not of seducing your friend into harming himself. Even if she was, she doesn't need to—Aaron wants to see the terraformed worlds restored to the colonists from the stations as much as any of us. You know that.”

“I know Gail's not staying clear of him either,” Malley said, choosing to disregard Aisha's comparisons as uncomfortably apt and not particularly the view of himself he preferred. “You could run the tests. There are a dozen others in the science sphere qualified.” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “I could do some!”

“Gail doesn't delegate crucial work. Maybe that's the problem—” Her voice trailed off suggestively. “She always lives her work, her ambition—but I've never seen her wearing down, day by day, like this. What happened at the station troubles her. But this? It's like she's fighting demons.”