The Light (10 page)

Gomez knew Stevens had been right. The best way to honor Kieran Duffy's memory would be to move on with her life. The last thing he would want her to do would be to waste her life waiting for something that was either never going to happen or wouldn't happen unless she made the effort to
make
it happen. Her close calls this year had driven home the point that life was finite, and she might as well be happy living the only one she had for however long it lasted.

Tonight,
she
was going to be the “space-stalker.”

Gomez slipped out of bed and sat down at her computer terminal. “Computer, open a subspace channel to the freighter
Vulpecula,
personal quarters of commanding officer Wayne Omthon.”

“Subspace link in progress,”
the artificial voice said pleasantly. Even it seemed to be rooting for her.

The connection seemed to be taking an awful long time to take hold, but just as Gomez began to wonder if Omthon was even aboard the ship, the screen awakened and she saw him lean close to the screen.

“Sonya?”
he asked after a moment, surprise lacing his voice. His black hair was a mess and his broad shoulders and chest were bare.

She smiled at the sight of him, and her chest swelled with welcome warmth. It was as if the pheromones he'd inherited from his Orion grandmother were transmitting through the subspace link.

“Wayne, I'm so happy I reached you. I'm sorry if I woke you up, but this couldn't wait. I know it's been a while since we last had contact with each other, but I just wanted to let you know that I still want to try to make things work between us. I'm ready to move on, and Kieran would want me to move on.”

Omthon smiled.
“I'm glad to hear you say this, Sonya. Really, I am.”

A wave of giddiness took hold of Gomez, making her feel like a quivering schoolgirl about to ask a boy out on a date. It took every ounce of willpower to keep it under control. “Look, I've just started two weeks' medical leave. Is there any way we can…”

Sonya's words drifted off, and her expression fell as she saw a pair of green arms, darker than Wayne's own skin tone, appear around either side of his chest. A moment later, the face of an Orion woman appeared over his right shoulder, her black hair cascading about her bare shoulders. The warmth that had felt so good in Gomez's chest a moment ago, now flooded into her face, and it didn't feel good at all.

“You coming back to bed, Pappy?”
the woman purred in his ear. Then she noticed Gomez on the viewscreen and cocked her head slightly.
“Oh,”
she said, a trace of curious amusement in her voice.
“Hello.”

Sonya fell back against her chair as Wayne said something to the Orion, but his words didn't register. She was too busy experiencing the end of her life, because, really, after what she'd just seen, her life
had
to be ending.

“Sonya,”
Wayne said as the Orion slinked out of view. He said her name again until she focused on the screen again. He stabbed a hand into his hair and shook his head. To his credit, he looked convincingly crestfallen.
“Oh my God, Sonya, I'm
—
I'm so sorry. This doesn't mean anything. And she knows it. Really. It's just…it's been so long since we last had any contact, I…I thought maybe you'd…”

“Given up on you?” Sonya asked, anger seeping into her voice now. Unshed tears brimmed and burned in her eyes, but she wasn't about to let them fall right now. “You were the one who cancelled out on our vacation on Hidalgo, Wayne. Why didn't
you
call
me
?”

Wayne's mouth worked briefly as though he were trying to find the right words.
“I've…I've been busy.”
He shook his head.
“I know that sounds like a lame excuse, but
—”

“I know,” Sonya said, a humorless laugh in her voice. “It's true. And it seems to be the story of our lives, doesn't it?”

Wayne held his head in his hands for a long moment, a perfect opportunity for Gomez to close the connection. But for some reason, she kept it open, waiting. Waiting for this mess to sort itself out somehow.

Finally, he looked up at her.
“Sonya, you're right. You're right. I should have called you. But I didn't. And I'm sorry, all right? Please don't think I feel any differently about you now than I did before, because I don't. I also want to get together with you like we planned, and…Dammit, I feel like such an idiot!”

Sonya shook her head, realizing there would be no sorting out of this particular mess. At least not right now. “No, Wayne. You're not the idiot.”

“Sonya, don't
—”

His face disappeared from view as she severed the connection. She sat there for a minute in her darkened room, just staring at the empty screen and wondering if she'd made the right decision. Truth was, she didn't know. What she did know was that she was hurting. Sonya brushed a tear away from her cheek and leaned forward onto the table, burying her face in her arms.

“I…am such…an idiot,” she confessed into her sleeve.

Eventually, she shuffled back to bed and lay back on her pillow. The hum of the ship actually managed to calm her, but what had just happened, not to mention Corsi's inevitable probe into Stevens's alleged “asinine” behavior, did little to calm her into a restful sleep.

Finally, she thought of one thing that might help. It made no sense whatsoever, especially now that they were two days gone from the planet where the cube had crashed, where everything had begun and everything had almost come to an end.

But she did it anyway.

“Computer—raise light level to fifty percent.” The lights in the room came up, and the soft warmth of their illumination filled her with a sense of calm that quickly consumed her. She smiled and curled up under the bedcovers.

The Light is all,
she thought as she drifted into peaceful slumber.

JEFF D. JACQUES
(pronounced “Jakes”) first found success in the world of
Star Trek
fiction through the
Star Trek: Strange New Worlds
short story contest, which saw his tales “Kristin's Conundrum” (with Michelle A. Bottrall), “Beginnings,” and “Solace in Bloom” find print in the fifth, seventh, and ninth volumes, respectively. He is pleased and proud to have taken his first command of the
da Vinci
crew, and thanks Keith R.A. DeCandido for the opportunity to do so in the first place. Jeff hails from Ottawa, Canada, where he continues to live and breathe to this day.