Salvaged Destiny (7 page)

“And do you?” Del struggled with a sticky noodle that was
living up to its name.

“No, I don’t really like to arrest most of them. Only the
really dangerous ones. I feel sorry for the rest—the addicts, the unlucky ones.”

“Isn’t sympathy a dangerous attribute for you though? Wouldn’t
that make you inclined to be too lenient?”

“No, not really.” Lazlo settled back to express himself. “What
I do and how I do it is pretty well determined by Congressional mandates and
the law. Leniency is for the judicial branch, not enforcement.”

“What about using force?” She was looking cautious now,
probing a bit and probably worried about what he might say. Some people really
enjoyed the idea of security being tough and vengeful and taking down the
offender. People on the other side were convinced that security officers were
corrupt and cruel. Lazlo hoped Del’s attitude fell in the middle of that
spectrum.

“I do it when I have to, but I don’t like it.” He paused and
ate the last bite of egg, which really
was
good. The cook had made it so
quickly it had to be simple to do. Not for the first time, he realized he
needed to learn how to cook. “I prefer finesse to force anyway. It’s better for
everyone involved to avoid shouting and wrist clips. And I know the rules and
like most of them. I like it when people behave themselves.”

She quirked her eyebrows and nodded slowly. “So what do you
do when you aren’t doing what we are doing now?”

He grinned at her attempt to be clandestine. “Before this
assignment I was working on a special investigation. Before that I worked in patrol.”
Actually, he had been supervising shifts of patrol officers and training new
hires, but he didn’t want to sound as if he were boasting—and of course he
couldn’t tell her about the specifics of the investigation that had just
concluded. But he liked her questions, she actually seemed interested in his
answers and he couldn’t help but notice she was much more relaxed when she wasn’t
talking about herself.

The counter had cleared a bit by then and the number of
people walking by had dwindled as well. Evening was coming and much as he liked
sitting there talking with her, they both needed to get some rest before
tomorrow and what was in store for them. The cook served their lo mein and
Lazlo looked at it regretfully.

“Maybe we should just get that to go,” he offered and she
nodded.

“You take it. You need it.”

“What do you mean, I need it?” Lazlo tried to act offended.
She was so serious about things. He wanted her to get ruffled again.

“You’re a big man and you need the calories. Tomorrow is
going to be tough. We’re going to be out for at least twelve hours. Pack twice
as much water as you did today, because we’re going to be climbing.” The remote
mask had slipped on her face again. Del was back to business. She asked the
cook to box up the leftovers and when they stood, no one was waiting to take
their seats. Evening quiet was filling up the port and he felt more relaxed
than he had in a long time.

“I’ll walk you home.” Lazlo wanted to escort her—it seemed
like the right thing to do even if this was a non-date.

“No need. Meet me tomorrow at the same place as this
morning, but one hour earlier. We can cover some ground before full light.” Del
turned to leave, then looked back at him. “Thanks for dinner. Good night.” Then
she walked rapidly away, disappearing around a stone corner before he could say
any more.

Lazlo stood there for a moment with the paper box of noodles
in his hands, not wanting to go home to an empty apartment and a solitary
evening with only the data feed for company yet again.

“Where were you?” Dee Dee asked as Del unlocked the door to
her apartment. She lived in a converted flight control observation deck above
the family compound. It was small and had lots of windows, which she liked, but
the proximity to her family and resulting lack of privacy was sometimes
wearing. Like now, for instance. Her sister had been waiting for her to come
home and followed her up the stairs like a happy puppy eager for fun.

“I was out.” Del gestured for her sister to enter. “Coming
in?”

Dee Dee moved through the doorway quickly, flinging herself
down on the only section of old sofa not covered by shipping foam and empty
boxes. Del really needed to pack up some pieces to send out tomorrow and make a
few marks since she was getting the feeling she was never going to earn the
reward for finding the old weapons cache.

There wasn’t much furniture in her place, just the bare
essentials for living and working. A large workbench she’d pieced together from
several castoffs from the Ag Research Station dominated the small room.

On the work surface in well-lit splendor was her prize—her
slightly used quark scope spectrometer, Toots. She was slightly in love with
Toots and indulged the piece of equipment with every add-on and maintenance
routine she could afford. Everything else in her apartment was drab, small and
salvaged from somewhere else, but Toots was her lovely helper and Del gave it
an affectionate pat as she passed it on her way to take a seat on the only
chair.

“You can help me pack up specimens and take them to the dock
tomorrow. I’m going to be out.”

“Must be nice to be free to wander around wherever you like,”
Dee Dee griped, but moved quickly to start wrapping and packing as Del
directed. Her sister was a good sport beneath the youthful surface. Dee Dee had
no interest in going out prospecting anyway—too lonely and dirty for her
tastes. “Dad’s assigned me to sorting with the kids. He said we’re getting in a
bunch of crates from unclaimed storage so it might be exciting. Who knows what
I might find? Maybe some new clothes? Of course, if there are clothes they’re
likely to be dungarees and fifteen sizes too large. What are you doing
tomorrow?”

“Going out beyond the fields,” Del answered tersely, feeling
anxious that she was almost lying to her sister. She really didn’t do that
well. Blast this secret work and blast that annoyingly nice Lazlo Casta. If he’d
just be overbearing or unfunny or irritating, it would be so much easier to
deal with him.

“I know that, but why and where and what for?” Dee Dee
interrogated as she wrapped up a gorgeous little granite with gleaming
inclusions.

“Look who is working for the newsfeed now! Why are you so
curious about it?” Del shot back, not wanting to lie.

Dee Dee stopped stuffing old paper around a nice pink metrite
fragment and peered at Del. “I’m curious if that security officer Lazlo is part
of it, that’s all.”

Del closed her eyes and wished she was in a deep sleep and
Dee Dee was long gone. But when she opened them again, Dee Dee was still there
on her sofa, bright-eyed, cute and focused on an answer.

“So what if he is?”

Smiling with great satisfaction, Dee Dee nodded. “I knew it.
I could tell.”

“You could tell what?”

“That you were interested and he must be too, otherwise you
wouldn’t even be talking to him,” her sister concluded with a smug look.
Spare
me from my sister’s absurd matchmaking please
, Del begged the universe.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Dee Dee?” Del asked, trying
to divert her a bit as she took the package and doubled-checked the shipping
label’s codes against her invoice. If only she could tell her romantic sister
the truth and end this topic of conversation.

“If it were up to you, you’d just watch him and sigh and
never talk to him, as usual. So since you’re actually interacting with him like
a person, he must be talking to you first.”

Del shrugged and wrapped up a case containing a nice
opalescent malachite destined for a classroom on Weave. If she stayed silent
long enough, Dee Dee would start on another topic. And Del certainly wasn’t
interested in Lazlo Casta in that way. He was so utterly not her type—too big,
too handsome, with a lovely accent that made her want to listen to every word.
Lazlo was a portie obviously destined for greater things than a permanent
posting on out-of-the-way Sayre. Or a meaningless encounter with someone like
her.

“So what are you doing with him tomorrow?” Dee Dee continued
her questioning.

“Going out. He wants to see some sights.”

“Oh I bet that’s not all he wants to see. Don’t scowl at me
like that, Del. He’s cute and I know you think so too. So what’s he like?” Dee
Dee continued to prod, not tiring of the subject yet. Stars, she was relentless
when it came to discussing relationships, either hers or anyone else’s.

“He’s very polite.” That sounded wonderfully boring. Even
though in reality Del was finding Lazlo’s courtesy to be strangely appealing.

“I know that. I met him. Is he a good kisser?”

“Dee Dee!” Del frowned at her. “Inappropriate question!”

“I always tell you about who I kiss. Now it’s your turn,” Dee
Dee teased with a naughty grin. “So you haven’t kissed him yet. Yet! He looks as
if he’d be good at it with those nice lips of his. They look strong and soft. I
think that’s what I like about men, they are strong, but they can be soft. Is
there anything sexier than a man just barely touching you? Not all of them of
course. Some are just mean. But that Lazlo isn’t like that. And a polite man is
good—he won’t be grabby or sloppy. And he’s got a great body, you can just
tell.”

Del shook her head, trying to get that thought out of her
mind. Thinking about Lazlo Casta’s body was not advisable, especially after she’d
acted like such a fool at dinner. It was a business dinner to be sure but she’d
still ruined it. Imagine how bad it would have been if they were on a real date
with genuine attraction between them? She probably would have slipped and
spilled something boiling on him, or started a fire by knocking over the chef’s
propane-fired wok.

Dee Dee giggled. “Come on, Del, I know you’ve looked. How
could you not? He’s perfectly proportioned. Like some sculpture or a medical
illustration.” She wrapped a seal around the last box and stacked it on a table
with the others. “I’ll get them to the dock first thing, don’t worry. Back to
Lazlo now.” She settled down on the sofa and stared at Del.

“How about a drink?” Del jumped up and took two steps to her
tiny kitchen, thumping around to get out two glasses and her favorite bottle of
non-label whiskey.

“Bring it all back here so we can talk,” Dee Dee ordered,
unpinning her hair and getting comfortable. She really had beautiful hair—shining
reddish-brown waves that set off her gray eyes and lovely skin.

Yet again Del felt like the older, drabber first attempt at
a woman. Her original mother had fled the planet and died soon after when Del
was a baby. Her father’s wife, the mother of her half-siblings, had gotten it
right with Dee Dee. And even more right with Luti, who was stunning at
thirteen. By the time her younger sister reached the age of majority, she’d
probably be whisked off-planet by a talent agency and they’d never see her
again except in entertainments.

“But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ah, so there is an ‘it’.” Her sister accepted her glass of
whiskey and took a small, wincing sip. “I don’t know how you can drink this
stuff. I know Cousin Pin thinks he’s some skilly distiller, but it tastes like
tile cleaner to me.”

“Stop drinking tile cleaner—it will kill you. Develop your
palate. I like it.” Del took her own sip, appreciating the pungent taste and
the apparent change of topic.

“I bet Lazlo Casta likes whiskey. He should be here having
some with you instead of me.”

“He’d have to arrest me if he did—you know this stuff is
illegal. I’d prefer we talk about something else now.”

“Just listen to me a bit longer, Del.” Dee Dee grew serious.
“You’re so alone all the time. I worry and I know that Ma and Pa do too. You
never go out, never meet anyone. You just wander around out there in the
wilderness and come back and hide up here with your rocks. You’re some sort of
hermit and we don’t know why.”

Del shrugged. It was all true. And she didn’t know why
either. It had all seemed to work out that way as she’d grown to adulthood—isolated
work, solitary life, her time and thoughts all to herself. A therapist would
probably say it was abandonment issues but who could afford a therapist’s
opinion?

“He’s nice, you said so yourself, and he’s handsome and
polite. Give it a chance. Do something fun. And no, don’t tell me to go after
him myself. You always try to divert things that way.” Dee Dee sat back,
presumably concluding her lecture, looking much wiser than she had a right to.

Of course, Del couldn’t tell her sister the only reason
Lazlo was in her orbit was to complete an assignment for his commander and for
her to hopefully earn some marks. There was no relationship developing between
them—it was just a business transaction. So it wasn’t really a lie when she
assured Dee Dee that yes, she would give it a chance, because there was nothing
there to begin with. For this, Del got an enthusiastic hug from her sister,
repeated assurances that her packages would be dropped off first thing, and
then Dee Dee was gone, off to meet up with some lucky man for some fun.

Del sat back down after she left, feeling lonelier and more
unsettled than usual. She didn’t want anybody or need anybody in her life. Her
work was too odd and erratic. She was too odd and myopic. All she had ever
wanted to do—explore her planet, learn about its geology and collect
mineralogical things—she was doing and fairly successfully. Del didn’t need
anything else.

* * * * *

“I could get used to this,” Del croaked as she carefully
sipped her coffee and sniffed in the decadent aroma. Casta arrived at the meet-up
spot yet again with coffee and accompaniments, cheerful and eager to start the
day. He’d volunteered to drive and was busy negotiating the rough ground along
the direction she’d indicated. It was early, barely light, and the coffee was a
blessing. Del had taken one too many sips of whiskey the night before and was
feeling muzzy-headed.

“Count on it then,” Lazlo assured her and accelerated over a
relatively smooth patch of ancient floodplain. The level and compacted soil
under their tires was a lovely shade of gray-green lavender and Del smiled. If
she had made the correct calculations, this flood had occurred about eighteen
thousand years ago. Of course, no one but her cared about an ancient alluvial
incident but it was fascinating to think—

“Why are you smiling?” Lazlo asked, glancing at her. She
squinted at him through her shades and shrugged. She’d seen better-looking men.
It was just getting hard to remember what any of them had looked like when
Lieutenant Lazlo Casta sat next to her and glowed with good health and
happiness and a wonderful smile.

“Nothing. It’s boring.”

“It’s a long drive. I’ll listen.”

Del shifted in her seat to face him a bit better. He looked
sincere. Of course, he always looked sincere, but she decided to give him a
chance anyway. “I was just thinking about this floodplain and wondering if my
estimates of the latest alluvial deposit are correct.”

“How old is it?”

“This area doesn’t flood very often, since the nearest river—the
Box, about a kilometer away over there—is large enough to handle nearly any
amount of precipitation. My guess, based on some core samples and analysis of
sediments of the last event that could have produced flow all the way over here,
is—” She paused, realizing how boring it must sound to him as she chattered. “You’re
just being polite, aren’t you?”

Lazlo smiled but kept his eyes on the ground ahead of them,
watching for obstacles and trying to avoid blue-haze lichen patches. Stars, he
had a dimple. How was that fair? And he’d been paying attention when she’d
asked him not to drive over blue-haze lichen if he could help it. Del had read
that they were rare and grew at a rate of only a couple of millimeters per year,
so she did her best to not damage them. And now ultra-nice and charmingly
dimpled Lazlo Casta was doing the same.

“I am curious. I never thought much about this sort of thing
until I met you, but it’s interesting.” Lazlo reached out for his own coffee
cup.

“Oh.” Del realized she actually believed him. “My best guess
is that it’s about eighteen thousand years old. But hydrogeology isn’t really
my interest.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She took a breath. “And there are lots of tiny
olivine crystals in the material and I have no idea where they might have come
from.”

“What’s olivine?” If Del had been less wary, she would have
categorized Lazlo’s tone as genuinely curious. She’d never met anyone who had
listened to her talk this much without changing the subject. Other than men
trying to soften her up enough to get her pants unbuttoned.

“A mineral, magnesium iron silicate. The composition of this
particular deposit seems to indicate that it might have come from an
extraterrestrial event,” Del finished explaining and took a sip of her drink so
she would be quiet and not spoil the moment with an excess of geology.

“Is that a fancy way of saying a meteorite?” When Lazlo
furrowed his brow and looked ever so confused, Del realized he was teasing her
and she laughed. All right, she was being pedantic.

“I don’t know about fancy, but yes, it probably was a
meteorite. I should have just said that.”

“So did you get your training in this at the main Academy or
a closer branch?” Lazlo made a slight course correction to avoid some basalt.