The last of the two bottles of wine had been finished off the night before.
She considered him. Arched a speculative eyebrow. Did she dare? “Got the next best thing. I’ll get it while you dish up the rest.”
Whirling on her heel, she stalked outside to her aircar, checked the charge out of habit—seeing it was up to ninety-two percent, which was about all the battery would take these days—and pulled the bottle of whiskey out from under the dash.
Back inside, Dek was setting the plates on the small table. He looked up, eyes widening at sight of the bottle. “Oh, my. Is that what I think it is?”
“One of Inga’s outstanding bourbons from last year.”
“This is a special treat indeed.” With a flourish, Dek produced two duraplast glasses. “The first fried fishsnake ever, augmented by broccoli, mint, and cabbage, toasted with bourbon.”
She seated herself, took a tentative bite of the fishsnake. “Oh, that is good. It’s a softer meat than crest or chamois. Not sure what to compare it to.”
“Be better with your red chili sauce,” he said, “I think it’s got the best texture on Donovan so far. Sort of reminds me of crab crossed with cod, having never had your gibnut for comparison.”
“So, how’s it going with the quetzal TriNA? You seem remarkably human today. Only seen a few of those disconnected looks.” She cut another piece and forked it into her mouth.
“I took your advice. When Demon starts to fool with my memories, I close my eyes, imagine myself falling . . . that slam of impact as I hit the water. Then I’m down, under the surface, bubbles gurgling around me. I experience the pounding roar, that huge weight of the water beating me down into the darkness, and I imagine myself drowning. Feel the cold water rushing into my lungs . . .” A pause as he closed his eyes. “And my brain clears. I can almost feel him cowering down in the middle of my head.”
“Middle of your head, huh? He hides behind my stomach most of the time. Funny where we imagine them inside us.”
“Flute’s starting to talk to me. At least, that’s how I categorize the voice. Must be a combination of all the other quetzal TriNAs, but definitely an opponent of Demon’s. And one equally terrified of drowning. Why is that?”
“Quetzals can’t hold their breath,” she told him. “Air in the mouth is piped through the lungs and out the vents behind. If they get in water over their heads, they drown. Period. Cheng thinks it’s one of the reasons we’re seeing vastly different TriNA haplotypes in quetzal populations. Rivers effectively isolate quetzal gene pools from each other. Quetzals might ford creeks and streams, but deep water makes an impenetrable barrier. Has implications for future settlement security when it comes to a lot of Donovanian wildlife.”
“You know, you really are remarkable.”
“How’s that?”
“Because of what you know. Your pragmatism. That strength of character and the sacrifices you have made for people. Like . . . me. Bringing me out here to help me find myself. I think you are the most amazing woman alive.”
“Oh, sure. Me and all my quetzals. I’m a friggin’ mess, Dek. I’m not even sure I’m human anymore.”
“You’re more than human. I figure you are the beginning and end of my universe.”
The look he gave her sent flutters through her core. Intimate, measuring, and compellingly erotic, it stirred something grown cold and lifeless within her. Damn, did she trust him? The guy was like a living contradiction. Charming and vulnerable, physically appealing with his smile, scar, and kind eyes, but she had only his word that the old Taglioni was dead and buried. Let alone that he had control of Demon.
“It’s all right,” he said softly. “I can wait.”
“Read my mind, huh?”
He tossed off the last of his whiskey. “I’ve got a lot more of you inside me than you know. And, no, I can’t give you a guarantee that I’ve got Demon forever whipped. But after the river? I know how to club him back into submission. I just haven’t figured out how to do it with finesse or on demand.”
“So . . .” She sipped her whiskey, having finished the last of the fishsnake. “Where do you see this going?” Damn, did he have to have such remarkable eyes?
He leaned forward, earnest gaze locked with hers. “It will go wherever you are comfortable going. Me, I want to hold you, cherish you, explore every last bit of you. I want to see if you and I fit together as seamlessly as I think we can.”
“And if we can’t?”
“Won’t know until we try. I came alive after that escape from the river. That was you and me acting as a team. I want to see if we’re heading to someplace fantastic.”
Her heart was beginning to pound. She felt the quetzals stirring inside her, that rush of the limbic system.
Oh, Talina, do you dare do this?
She stood, reached for his hand and pulled him to his feet. For a long moment she stared into his no-longer-human eyes, looking into those yellow-ringed depths. His lips met hers as he pulled her close.
The tickle in her loins flickered into that familiar glow. Her breathing deepened, the rush building as she pressed against him. As his tongue delicately teased hers, she realized that she’d never been kissed like this. The way his mouth worked on hers, the faint taste of peppermint and whiskey, electrified her.
Breaking away, her body pounding, she could read his desire, see the rising and falling of his chest. Actually feel the blood throbbing through his body.
“Come on,” she told him. “I’ve got nothing on my schedule for the rest of the day.”
As she led him back to the bedroom, nothing remained but the moment.
68
Kalico Aguila, in a foul mood, ground her teeth and stared at the world through slitted eyes. She had been irritable ever since the last trip to PA. That rare moment of camaraderie she’d felt on the way into Inga’s had slowly evaporated as she discovered that the Maritime Unit had lost a submarine with two people aboard, and then lost a man to some flying thing.
Well, Michaela, don’t say you weren’t warned.
But what really got under Kalico’s skin and chafed was the notion that Dek and Talina were just over yonder, not more than a half-hour’s flight to the southeast at Two Falls Gap. Not only was the knowledge maddening, but worse, Kalico wasn’t sure what she wanted to do about it.
Talina was more than a trusted colleague and a woman to whom Kalico owed her life several times over; she was a friend. Granted, the path to that friendship had been rough, rocky, nearly fatal, and often acrimonious, but mutual admiration and shared values had triumphed in the end. In addition, no woman alive had earned more of Kalico’s respect than Talina.
Kalico paced her office where it sat just off the main hallway in Corporate Mine’s administration dome. Her desk seemed to mock her. As did the maps and mine schematics that were hung on the walls. Her mine. The richest diggings in the universe.
Shut down for the moment as all of her people spent time servicing machinery, inspecting shoring, conducting maintenance and cleaning, and otherwise essentially catching up and taking stock. Down at the smelter, Ituri had run that last load of ore, processing it down to elements. He had another two cargo containers that could be ferried up to orbit and placed into L5 storage at any time. The combined value of those two containers alone—based on prices when Kalico had left Solar System—was just shy of three million SDRs. And there were a whole lot more containers already up there. Waiting. In hopes that either Turalon or Ashanti had successfully inverted symmetry and made the journey back to Solar System.
“Nothing is happening here,” Kalico reminded herself. “Nor will it until Talovich finishes his inspection and they replace any suspect aquajade.”
Which meant that nothing was keeping her from donning her bush clothing, strapping on her pistol belt, grabbing a rifle, and flying the aircar over to Two Falls Gap. You know, just t
o drop in and see how Dek and Talina were doing.
Under her breath, Kalico muttered, “Don’t be an idiot. If Tal wanted you, she’s got a radio. She knows damn well that you’re only a half an hour away at cruising speed.”
So why the hell was she so wound up about all of this? Imagining Dek and Talina, bodies locked together under a blanket. The very thought of it tripped her “now-I’m-really-pissed” trigger.
You jealous, bitch?
“Damn straight,” she muttered under her breath.
Better ask yourself why.
Kalico growled to herself, stepped to the door, and prowled down the hall. At the arms locker she grabbed a rifle from the rack, checked the chamber and magazine, and stepped outside into Capella’s bright light. Nodding to Dina Michegan, who stood in armor by the double doors, helmet slung on her belt, rifle at port arms, Kalico added, “Just going to walk the perimeter.”
“You need an escort, ma’am?”
“God no. I’m trying to clear my head with a little exercise.” She slapped her rifle. “If I see some quetzal climbing the fence, he’ll be steaks and leather before you can call the alarm.”
Michegan gave her a grin. “Yes, ma’am. But I think we’ll keep you on telemetry . . . just in case.”
Of course, they would. Only eleven of her original marines remained. They took their job seriously.
As Kalico walked out into Capella’s heat, she asked herself: “So, woman, what does Dek mean to you?”
Back in Solar System, she’d hated the guy. Loathed having to breathe the same air. Derek Taglioni may have been the single most despicable human being she had ever met . . . well, right up until she crossed paths with Dan Wirth. The difference was that Dek didn’t have the excuse of being a psychopath. He’d just been a purposefully hideous human being who had hated himself and everyone around him. Especially Miko, and by extension, Kalico, who was Miko’s lover and subordinate. Foul-mouthed be he drunk or drugged, arrogant, hurtful, and condescending of anyone and everyone, Dek had been an unmitigated slime. Had she the power, she’d have damned him to the most excruciating of fates.
Right up to the moment he’d stepped down from Ashanti’s shuttle carrying what little luggage remained to him. The way he told it—and the records verified—that excruciating fate had landed full upon Taglioni’s shoulders.
The man who’d emerged from Ashanti might have been an entirely different human being hidden away in a Dek Taglioni costume. A man who’d stooped to the most menial of duties in a desperate gamble to stay alive.
Once Kalico got over the shock—managed to separate “the odious beast from Transluna” with the humble man who now presented himself—she’d come to value his company.
At the fence, she glanced back. Saw that Abu Sassi had taken the station at the dome door, and Dina Michegan—Capella’s light gleaming on her armor—was ambling along about twenty meters back. The woman was glancing this way and that, as if out for a sauntering stroll, admiring the scenery.
Nothing like being obvious.
Kalico allowed herself a smile. “All right, Private. Come walk with me. Not only will I be safer, but I could use the company.”
“Ma’am?” Michegan called.
At Kalico’s wave, the marine trotted up, eyes nervous.
“At ease, Private,” Kalico told her. “You got a man in your life?”
After the surprised flicker died in her dark eyes, Michegan said, “Uh, yeah, Supervisor. He’s a prospector working a claim out in the Blood Mountains west of PA.”
“Must be tough getting together. You see him much?”
“We work it out.” Dina kept shooting Kalico a wary glance.
“Relax, Private. I could give a hang and hoot about your personal life. In fact, just the opposite. You decide you need some time, let me know. That goes for the rest of you, too. There isn’t a single marine left in this detail who hasn’t carried more than his or her weight. Let’s figure out a rotation for a little time off. What do you think?”
“It would be most appreciated, ma’am.” Michegan smiled.
“I’m remiss for not thinking of it earlier. But, given what happened to Talbot, Shintzu, and Garcia, I think we’ll have to have some ground rules.”
“Yes ma’am. I’d hope we were a little smarter this time around, though I do know that Russ Tanner and Toni Nashala want to do some exploring.” Again, the wary look. “Maybe there might be a way to make trips like those Corporate endorsed? Like for a percentage?”
Kalico gave the woman a thin-lidded look. “Damned creeping capitalistic libertarian crap is infiltrating all the best qualities of solid Corporate doctrine, if you ask me. Which means, fricking aye, we can go percentages.” She paused. “As long as our people use their heads while they’re out in the bush.”
“Yes, ma’am. We know what’s at stake.” Michegan squinted up at the sun as they walked along the tall chain-link. On the other side, the fill dropped off to the forest below. The view through the wire was spectacular across the rumpled forest. Looking out, it was to see the trees in their constant movement, a bobbing sea of blues, greens, teal, and jade as the forest giants shuffled and struggled for position.
Nice distraction. What are you going to do about Dek?
Kalico thought back to the man who’d given her his last energy bar at the foot of the cliff below Tyson Station and lied about it. That bar had kept her going when she’d have played out. Maybe she wouldn’t have died, but her collapse on that dangerous climb would have endangered them all.
Then came the memories of his dimple, of the twinkle in his green-ringed yellow eyes, that devilish smile. The scarred cheek he’d received saving her life. Just thinking of them warmed her heart.
Are you in love with him?
Good question.
“So,” she asked Michegan, “I take it you’re in love with this Wild One?”
“Uh, don’t know, ma’am.”
“What the hell is love?” Thinking back, she tried to dissect her relationships. She’d cared for some of the men she’d been involved with, enjoyed the company of others, but always in the background lurked the understanding that each had been temporary. And then there had been the other relationships. Like the one she’d shared with Miko. Purely mercenary on both of their parts. Emotion had nothing to do with it. She was using him for her own advancement as much as he was using her for sex and an arm ornament, and both of them had delivered in full measure.
Michegan hadn’t answered the question about love. Maybe the marine was as uncertain about it as Kalico was.
“Private? Can we go off the record? Just you and me? In confidence?”
Michegan arched a dark brow. “Uh, as long as it’s nothing that would compromise my oath or violate my honor.”
“Nothing like that.”
“All right, then we’re off the record.”
“What do you think about Dek Taglioni?”
“Ah,” Michegan nodded. “I see.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah.” Michegan shifted her rifle, stared out across the forest as she considered her words. “You want this bottom line straight up?”
“That’s why we’re OTR.” Kalico gestured her fluster. “I’m out of my league here. On the one hand, Dek and I have a not-so-savory history. On the other, since he’s arrived on Donovan, he’s a different guy. He comes from my world, my society. He’s a piece of my world. And, I have to admit, I like this new Dek. I just don’t know . . .” How did she put this?
“You don’t know if you want him in your bed,” Michegan finished.
“That’s a little blunter than I would have phrased it.”
“OTR, right? Our call? And that’s all of us marines, we’re the watchers. Security. Essentially invisible. Ignored when you and Dek are together. We keep this stuff to ourselves, don’t talk to the rest of the
folks out here, or, God forbid, let it slip when we’re in PA. Your Mr. Taglioni isn’t sure what to do with you, either. When he’s around you, he’s always on his best behavior, like he’s got something to prove.”
“Like he’s still not the same toilet-sucking maggot he was back on Transluna.”
“Could be. But the man genuinely likes you, admires you.”
“But?”
“You said, OTR?”
“I did. Stop asking.”
“As much as he likes you, watches you, you’re not Talina Perez.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
Michegan tilted her head, short black hair tossing in the morning breeze. Her dark eyes were prying, trying to see into Kalico’s soul. “You in love with the man?”
“Hell, I . . . I . . . Tell me what the hell love is, Dina.”
The marine’s lips bent into an amused curl. “My call? You and I will walk around the compound. A Supervisor with her marine guard. Then you’ll go back to your quarters, take a cold shower, and you’ll go back to work.”
“That simple, huh?”
“Oh, hell no. But a hell of a lot simpler than jumping in that aircar of yours and whizzing over to Two Falls Gap. If what you’re telling me is true, you’re not up to pouring reaction mass into a rocket you’re not sure you want to ride.”
“Wrong guy, huh?”
“Like I said. You’re not Talina Perez. Those of us who watch, we know. That man looks at her in a whole different way.”
69
Over the radio Raya Turnienko’s voice said, “The fact that all the children are suffering from the same painful edema, that it presents as a glandular swelling that starts under the angle of the jaw, suggests that it’s some kind of contagious disease. Maybe something unique to the maritime environment you’re in. But we’re not going to know until we can isolate the pathogen responsible.”
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