blood.
“I don’t know what it is you’re doing right now, but I’m stopping you before you do something really stupid.”
“I don’t really know what I’m doing either. What is it you’re proposing, knocking me out or arresting me?” He looked down at her hands; they were balled into fists, and her expression was one degree off dangerous.
“I’ll take you home. You can sleep it off, how’s that?”
“Boring.” She waved a hand carelessly at him, heedless of the stares from passersby.
“Maeve, I’ve been down this road before. Except I was standing where you are. It can’t end well like this.”
“I’ve been there before, standing where I’m standing. Fuck.” She ran her hands through her hair in anguish. “I don’t want to do this anymore. It was just there…I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.” She was still fighting it down, whatever it was. “I’ll go…back.”
“Let me go with you.” He drew close, pleading in a voice that sounded wholly unfamiliar to his ears.
“Why? Why? What are you going to do? Save me?” She looked at him with ragged emotion.
“I told you. Someone did that for me. Maybe it’s time for me to repay that.” He held out a hand and waited.
۞
“Where do you think you saw him?” Jemi watched her friends thoughtfully as she asked this question.
“Commerce. Near the entrance to a theater.”
“They told us he wasn’t in the container with us. What is going on?” She and Grace exchanged equally anxious looks.
“Maybe they don’t know about him.”
The card game was forgotten. They were all watching Leif, waiting to hear his reaction. Of them all, he was the only one who actually knew the history between Maeve and Fergus Wallace. The rest of them only knew that Leif did not like Wallace.
The extent to which he disliked the other man was notable, given Leif’s typically dispassionate demeanor. Josh suspected there was jealousy in that dislike. Actually, it was more than just suspicion; Leif had confessed his feelings late one night, long ago. It was why they’d not asked any questions when they’d come to and found Wallace was not there. Less conflict, less stress; no possibility of homicide.
“I don’t know how he got here. Don’t care.” Leif stood to leave.
“Where are you going, man?” Josh stood quickly after him.
“To get to him before he gets to her.” There was no murder in his eyes, just turbulence. Leif was trying to resist the storm.
“I’ll go with you.” Josh moved swiftly, not wanting to be left behind.
۞
“I don’t know if I can be saved.” This was less self-pity than realism, at least in her mind. Dmitry knew what she was saying, though. He’d been there, ready to give up and jump off the bridge, literally. It seemed like forever ago, that it had happened to someone else.
“Why don’t you stop fighting?” He gently turned her back to face him, and closed the distance between them. “Let me try?”
“And what happens when you get tired of your experiment?” She bit back harshly. He frowned. It was an odd choice of words….
“One thing at a time. Who’s to say you won’t get sick of me first?” He tried to put on a good show. She made a face.
“I’m a mess.”
So was I, he thought. It was almost involuntary how he reached up to touch her face. He looked from the dark, hunted eyes, to the defiant chin that was still set to keep arguing with him. After all the resisting he’d done, it finally seemed like the moment had come, at least for one thing. He leaned in and gently kissed her. Just for a second. She was still drunk; he could taste the maltiness of her breath.
“One thing at a time.”
۞
Wallace was put off. Or perhaps put out. Probably both. He drew back behind the corner from which he’d been observing. There she was, only a couple of months out of stasis, already intimate with someone. It bothered him that he was so obviously hung up over it. He knew how long it had taken Maeve to be intimate with him.
The guy she was with was familiar. It took Wallace a few minutes of hard thought to place him. The context had to slide back into place. That guy was the guy he’d run into in the theater. Mrs. Han had said he was the second in command for the Nimitz. Great. It didn’t help that he was tall, athletic…Wallace supposed he was good-looking. He grimaced as he replayed the kiss in his mind.
He’d come to the station thinking that all he really needed from her was forgiveness. Now, he was not entirely sure what he wanted. It was time to get back, though. Jules had this compulsion to grill him and follow his every move. Like she didn’t trust him or something. He retraced his route back to the theater, as he barely missed running into yet another hapless soul. Wallace brushed by the tall figure, oblivious to what the person even looked like. This was not going to be as easy as he’d thought.
۞
Leif turned and watched him walk away. It was definitely Wallace. The question: how to handle this development?
“I’d love to know how he came to be here. It’s a little strange, don’t you think?” Josh had seen what Wallace had been looking at. He hoped it had escaped Leif’s notice.
“I’m sure that once we get our hands on him, it’ll only be a matter of…squeezing the story out of him.”
۞
After speaking with the harbormaster, Antonio was led down the stacked rings of docks by a seaman, until arriving at one that held small, schooner-sized vessels. He stared in awe at the slim and darkly metallic hulls, wondering why he hadn’t come to the lanes before.
It was amazing! Thanking the young hand who’d guided him, he waited until he was alone. Then, he began to carefully investigate the locks to the docking doors. It was the same sort as the ones for the housing units. It wouldn’t take much to break down its algorithm; he could be inside by tomorrow.
“You look like a man with a plan.” Antonio restrained himself from jumping nine feet into the air, slowly turning around to face the source of the voice.
“Colonel Tarkington, sir. Did not expect to see you here. I was just wandering the lanes, marveling at all the ships.” Tark smiled at Antonio, hoping he didn’t look as crocodilian as he felt.
“To include a careful investigation of the electronic locks? And in front of a dock that holds a ship we also have some interest in?” The blonde man paled. Tark’s smile grew fractionally. “Two people came in on that boat. Would you like to know what happened when we ran their photos through our computer?”
“I have a feeling you’ll tell me anyway.”
“We got nothing.”
“Oh.”
“Until someone expanded the parameters, and strangely, all the files from your vessel were included. We got a result then.”
“Sir, I know this looks funny, but if I’m right, the people who came in on this ship are another piece of our puzzle.”
“I knew it. You all do know what’s going on, don’t you? And be sure to include how it is that two of your shipmates magically appeared on board my base.”
“We don’t know how that happened. I mean, it’s true that we all have our memories, except Maeve, I guess. But as to how we ended up where you found us? Your guess is as good as mine.” Antonio threw up his hands. “We’re as confused as you are about the other two. We thought they were probably dead.”
Tark found himself trusting Antonio, and asked him to tell all he knew. The Colonel listened while opening the lock to the docking door. Three-quarters of an hour later, Tark knew as much as anyone could about the container, its occupants, and the nature of their mission.
It was supposed to have had practical application, at least how Antonio explained it. The ten of them had been chosen for many reasons. Intelligence, leadership, special skills, and finally, because they had no ties left. In one way or another, they were all devoid of family, friends. Anything that would normally distract from duty was gone.
“There you
have it, sir, we were all orphans, loners, you know?”
“What you’re trying to tell me is that nobody expected any of you to live?” Antonio laughed. The Colonel had hit something right on the head, while missing the point entirely. It was too perfect.
“Oh, they expected us to live through the initial process.”
“What are you saying?”
“The plan was to place us, strategically, one might say. Then the timer would go off, ding, and we’d wake up, and do our job.”
“What kind of job?”
“The kind that nobody walks away from.” Antonio was very matter of fact. There was no point in sugar-coating it. He knew that some of them had accepted the parameters of the mission. Others, like him, had chosen to believe that they could come through the other side. The only problem had been getting rid of a leader with a death wish. Now, it didn’t seem to matter. She was her own problem.
“The question remains, who were you working for…and against?”
“It was not the most stable period we’d had in our history. I mean, we had…bad economy, really big divides in ideology…after a while, there was a lot of domestic terror and…well, stuff I never imagined seeing.” Their conversation was brought short when Antonio brought aloft, triumphantly, a handful of worn papers that appeared to have taken a vacation from their binding. Handwritten paragraphs crowded barely controlled doodling.
“What are those, and why do you look so happy?”
“These, sir, are from the journal of the young man to whom you referred, who might not be so young, come to think of it. He is what polite society calls a thorn in our rear. Fergus Wallace, and if you doubted his connection to us, only read.” Tark took the pages, and did so, aloud.
’At this place, in my memories, I can see her so well, and know that I betrayed everything that she was struggling for and away from. In the evenings, when we would do her rounds, talking to the men, I could find in her eyes the light of so many stars. She was perfect in her wanting of a just world, and in the way she loved me perfectly. After that night, I saw her as a tree in winter, with all the things that should have been green cast down into death. And then she was perfect in her grief, after she of her brother’s death. She looked at me, through me, and I saw on myself the black robes, while she saw the blood of many. It’s a fight every day to force myself into penance, and to ignore the callings of an easier way. I know that I have to someday make amends, and restore the walls of the fortressed city I once inadvertently helped to rend asunder.’
“Jeez, this guy needs to get out more. He’s gone goopy in the head. I presume he must be referring to Maeve…?” Antonio smiled grimly.
“That is something I can’t say I’m an authority on. I mean, I heard the rumors, but by that time, Maeve was…gone, and they’d just thrown in Wallace at a wholesale bargain. His father bought him a slot, we were told. Maybe as punishment.” On that subject, Antonio only had rumors. The colonel thankfully ignored the last comment.
“Who was his father?” Tark shuffled through the smudged papers.
“The Secretary of Defense. From what I understand, Fergus worked on Maeve for months before she would even give him the time of day.”
“Fascinating. So, what did he do to her that was so horrible?” Tark looked over at Antonio, who turned a bit red.
“Like I said, sir, you should probably ask someone else about these details. I know next to nothing as to actual fact.” He coughed and directed his attention to the rest of the ship’s interior.
Tark nodded. He knew that Leif would be a safe bet. He seemed to have the protective instincts of someone who’d spent considerable time with Maeve. Tark kept the pages, slipping them into the leg pocket of his uniform trousers.
Antonio felt more at ease. Perhaps Leif had already found Wallace, and pounded him into a jelly. Maybe they could put his