The Exxar Chronicles: Book 02 - Emissary

by Neal Jones

  A waitress appeared. "Can I get you something to drink while you decide?"

  "I'll have a vodka tonic." Laura looked at Marc. "Dinner's on me. What do you want?"

  He started to ask for a Scotch but then changed his mind. "A Batarian sunrise."

  The waitress nodded and typed the orders into her compad as she walked away.

  "Batarian sunrise? How exotic."

  "You don't remember, do you?"

  Laura thought for a moment and then smiled. "Ah, of course. You're right, I'd forgotten about that night."

  Marc laughed. "Bullshit. We'd been separated for three months. You were the one who got me drunk just so I wouldn't remember why we broke up."

  "It worked, didn't it? It got us back together, which is what you wanted all along."

  "No, we got back together after your dad's funeral."

  The waitress returned with their drinks. "Still need some time with the menus?"

  "Yes, please." Gabriel raised his drink. "To that memorable night."

  Laura raised hers. "To the good times."

  They drank, and Marc made a face. "I forgot how strong these damn things were!"

  "Hhmmm."

  "What?"

  Laura shook her head and gave a rueful grin. "Just thinking about that night."

  Marc nodded, and his expression matched Laura's. "I should have known better."

  "But you came anyway. I knew that we were meant to be together, and throwing an old fashioned birthday party for a mutual friend was the best plan in the book."

  Marc scowled. "Considering what you did to me six months later, that night at Chelton's now seems especially cruel."

  Laura grimaced. "You're right. Sorry."

  An uncomfortable pause bubbled between them, and they both reached for their menus. The waitress reappeared moments later to take their order, and after she left the silence still lingered.

  "So..." Laura said at last. "Here we are."

  "Yes," Marc replied. "Here we are."

  They both took long sips of their drinks. Laura sighed and upped the level of the privacy screen by five degrees. The background murmur of conversations and the pounding thump-thump-thump of the dance floor music faded considerably.

  "This is ridiculous. Surely there's something we can talk about."

  "Like what?"

  Laura shrugged. "How was your day?"

  "It was fine. How was yours?"

  "I already told you about my progress with breaking through the hypergate's security protocols."

  "Yeah, you did." Marc was enjoying this, and he took another swig of his mixed drink. The tall glass was now half empty. "How long are you staying?"

  "What?"

  "Ilkara should be here tomorrow. With her help, you and your team should have the hypergate connected to the network in a couple days, maybe less, right?"

  "Theoretically, yes."

  "So after that, how long are you planning to stay on Exxar-One?"

  "You know perfectly well that I'm getting married in a few weeks."

  "Oh, that's right!" He took another long sip of his sunrise. "What's his name again?"

  "Keith."

  "Keith," Marc repeated and nodded as if that name was the answer to some deep, universal mystery. "Keith."

  Laura shook her head. "How much alcohol is in that sunrise?"

  "I don't know, but I forgot how much I liked these things." He motioned to the waitress who had just finished delivering an order to the adjacent table. "I'll have another sunrise, and she'll have another vodka tonic."

  The girl glanced at Laura to make sure that's what she wanted, and she nodded. "Two more coming right up. And I'll be right back with your order."

  Marc downed the last of his drink. "You know what? I'm happy for you and Keith."

  "Good. You should be. How are things between you and Mariah?"

  "Mariah?"

  "Commander Decev. I heard that you two are old friends."

  "Yeah, that's right. We served together on the Tokyo during the war."

  "Are you still friends now? Or is there something more going on there?"

  "No. No, we're just friends."

  The waitress returned with a tray of food and drinks. She set them on the table, and then asked, "Anything else I can get for you?"

  "We're good for the moment," Marc replied without taking his eyes off Laura. "Thanks." He sipped his drink before scooping up a forkful of pasta.

  "You don't sound very convincing," Laura replied.

  "About what?"

  "You and Mariah." She carved off a slice of roast chicken.

  "And what would you know about convincing?"

  "I know you, Marc."

  "No, you don't. You knew me twenty years ago."

  She snickered as she polished off her first vodka and tonic. "You haven't changed."

  "I have. I'm twenty-three years older than the last time you saw me. I'm not that immature, stubborn jackass that you met at the academy."

  "Oh, no, not at all."

  "By the same token, you're not the arrogant, stuck-up bitch who cheated on me with – what was his name again? Oh, Casen!"

  "Oh, so now we're name calling?"

  He shrugged as he swallowed his spaghetti. "Are you denying that you were arrogant and stuck-up?"

  "I deny that I was the only bitch in that relationship. You weren't always a gentleman yourself."

  "So we're both in agreement that we were never right for each other."

  "No, we were perfect together."

  "Then why did you break off the engagement?"

  This brought Laura up short, and she blinked in surprise as she considered the question. "You said it yourself. I was afraid."

  "That's it?"

  "Does it matter now? After all these years?"

  Now it was Marc's turn to think, and he stared morosely into his sunrise. After a few moments he looked up and said, "I thought it did."

  Laura reached across the table and laid her hand over his. "I'm sorry for what I did. Really. I mean it. I made a mistake."

  He slid his hand away. "And what about now?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Never mind." He tore off a piece of garlic bread and stuffed it in his mouth.

  "I'm marrying Keith."

  "I know. You said that already."

  "You think I still have feelings for you? That I'm still in love with you?"

  "Aren't you?"

  "No, I'm not."

  "I don't believe you." Marc sipped his drink while motioning for the waitress to bring him another.

  "Well, what if I did? What difference would it make? In a few days I'll be on a transport back to Mars. My life is there. My career is there."

  "Your home office is wherever you want it to be. You have enough seniority that you could request a transfer here. Once that hypergate is connected to the others in the network, you and your team are going to be inundated with the technological remains of all the Erayan outposts and planets that our science ships uncover."

  She couldn't deny the validity of his point, and it was a tempting offer. "Marc, I can't. I'm sorry." She reached for her drink.

  "You're still afraid, aren't you?"

  "It's more than that. It's complicated."

  "Of course it is."

  Laura sighed and pushed away the remains of her roast chicken and mashed potatoes. "I won't deny that I've missed you. And there were many, many days when I regretted what did twenty years ago. But –"

  "But what? You really don't wonder what it would be like to be with me now? You really don't think that either of us has changed in twenty-three years?" The look on her face told him what he wanted to know. "Forget it." The waitress returned with a fresh sunrise, but Marc left it untouched and stood. "Have a good night."

  "Marc, wait!" Laura paid the bill. "Let's take a walk."

  ( 3 )

  "We've been walking for half an hour. When you said take a walk, I didn't think we were just going to walk."
/>   Laura giggled. "I need to sit down."

  They were in a corridor in one of the upper sections of the primary hull. No one else was in sight, and Gabriel was feeling woozy himself. He sat on the bench beside Laura, and she laid her head against his shoulder.

  "Laura? I think you need to get home and into bed." When she didn't say anything, he glanced at her and saw her eyes closed. "Laura?" He sighed and held both sides of her face. "Laura! Wake up! I can't carry you all the way back to your quarters."

  "What? What, I'm awake." She stood and scrubbed her hands over her face. "I shouldn't have taken two."

  "Two? Two what?"

  "And I definitely shouldn’t have had two vodka and tonics."

  "Wait a minute! Are you on some kind of meds?"

  "Oh relax, Marc, I'm not about to die of a heart attack." She plopped back onto the bench and reached into her pocket. "They're mood relaxers. All this stress with planning the wedding, the work on the hypergate, a couple other projects that I'm in charge of back home..." She handed a small packet to Gabriel. "I only take them once a week or so, when the stress just gets to be too much."

  Marc turned the packet so he could read the prescription on the back. "These are pretty strong, Laur. You're damn right you shouldn't have taken two, and with alcohol, no less."

  She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. "I'll be fine. I just need some sleep."

  "Not here. Stand up."

  She obeyed, but when she started to sway, he grabbed her. "I can't go back to my quarters. I don't want Jeanette to see me like this."

  "No, of course not. My place then. Let's go."

  She shook her head, slapped her cheeks and took a deep breath. "All right, I'm awake." She grinned at Marc. "Just like old times, isn't it?"

  He couldn't help but laugh, and this only made his head feel lighter. The sunrises were definitely kicking in. By the time they made it to his quarters, both of them were giggling so hard that they collapsed just inside the door.

  "Oh my gods, stop!" Laura crawled to the couch and stretched out. "I thought twenty-three years would have improved your sense of humor, but your jokes are as lame as ever!"

  "Then why are you laughing so hard?"

  "I'm not...laughing..." Laura started to doze.

  Marc stood, waited for the dizziness to pass, and then walked to his bedroom closet and grabbed a blanket. He returned to the living room and covered Laura. He slipped off her shoes and her jacket, and as he laid them aside, he fingered the packet of meds. He wanted to try one, but he thought better of it and returned to his bedroom instead. He shucked his shoes and shirt and sprawled out on the bed without bothering to pull back the covers. He was asleep as soon as his head - which was starting to feel as big as Exxar-One - plopped onto the pillow.

  ( 4 )

  Marc awakes, and it hurts just to open his eyes. He blinks several times, trying to remember where he is. His mouth tastes like it's stuffed with cotton balls, and his head is pounding. His stomach feels like a dead weight. He rolls over and instantly regrets it. As he stumbles out of bed, he gets tangled in the sheets and goes sprawling headfirst next to the dresser. Beyond it is the door to the bathroom, and Marc makes it to the toilet just in time.

  "Marc?"

  "In here."

  Laura appears in the doorway, a glass of ice water in one hand and two pills in the other. Marc stands at the sink and splashes water on his face before accepting her offering. He suddenly realizes he's naked. Laura's in her underwear.

  "Where am I?"

  "Chelton's house. Birthday party last night, remember?"

  He nods weakly as he crawls back into bed. "Where's everybody else?"

  "They left two hours ago."

  "What time is it?"

  "Almost noon. You were the life of the party."

  He moans into his pillow. "I don't remember anything past my third sunrise."

  "Yeah, I cut you off after ten. Actually, Steph cut us both off. I think I had seven. Might have been more. You were standing on the coffee table, shouting lame jokes. And then I joined you and we started singing. And then you started rambling about your father. You got yourself pretty worked up, and by the time Steph and I dragged you in here, you were pretty pissed off. I couldn't understand half the shit you were saying cause you were slurring your words really bad. I'm surprised you didn't throw up all over the bed."

  "All right, enough! I get the picture. Did we...?"

  "Fuck? No. Are you kidding? You passed out before we even got you on the bed."

  "Then why am I naked?"

  "Well, that's the interesting part. You started stripping in the living room for some reason. That's when Steph and I hauled you off the coffee table. Chelton's friend Martin dared you to take off your clothes."

  "Oh, gods! Isn't he gay?"

  "Yep!" Laura pulls back the sheets and snuggles in beside Marc. "I miss you. I miss your stupid sense of humor."

  He turns over onto his side so he can face her. "You arranged all of this just so we could get back together?"

  "It worked, didn't it?"

  He winces. "I don't know, Laur. I can't talk about this now." He turns onto his other side.

  She doesn't respond, but instead snuggles tighter against him and drapes her arm across his chest. After a minute or two, he intertwines his fingers with hers. She listens to him breathe as he drifts into sleep.

  ( 5 )

  Marc jerked out of his sleep, shouting into the dark. It took him a moment to realize where he was, but that fact didn't ease his anxiety. In only intensified it as he remembered the nightmare.

  The same godsdamn nightmare that had plagued him for the last three months. His shirt stuck to his chest, and his pillow was soaked with sweat, as were the bedcovers. He sat up, threw his legs over the edge and took several deep breaths. But this time, his efforts to regain control were useless. He started sobbing, and he became even more angry with himself because he couldn't stop.

  The stab wounds in his chest throbbed.

  He jerked to his feet and ran for the bathroom. He threw up most of his dinner and the alcohol. He turned on the shower and stripped. He sat with his knees drawn up to his chest, staring at the wall, trying to erase the image of Colonel Serehl and the memory of his torture.

  It wasn't working.

  Marc shut off the water, dried himself, and then padded naked into the living room. Laura was still asleep, and he rummaged in her jacket pocket for the pills. He took one, paused, and then took another. In the kitchen, he filled a glass with water and swallowed both capsules at once. He returned to the bedroom, pulled two more blankets from the closet, and then walked back to the living room where he moved the coffee table to one side. He spread the blankets on the floor next to the couch and used the cushion from the easy chair as a pillow. The medication was already taking effect, and this time his sleep was blessedly dreamless.

  ( 6 )

  This time, when he awakes, it doesn't hurt quite as much to open his eyes. There's no nausea, and one long sip from the glass of water on the nightstand eases the raw burning in his throat. He looks over his shoulder to see that Laura's still asleep.

  She looks so fucking peaceful.

  "Hey, Laur. Wake up. It's sixteen hundred."

  "I don't do military time," she murmurs without opening her eyes. "And I don't really want to get up just yet."

  "All right. Fine. Where are my clothes?"

  "In the living room, I think."

  He peeks out the door to make sure the living room is empty. By the time he's dressed, Laura is sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped in the sheets, watching him.

  "Don't go yet. We need to talk."

  "We talked last night. After my second sunrise. Or was it the third?"

  "And do you remember any of that conversation?"

  He sighs as he sits beside her to put on his shoes. "Point taken. I'll call you tomorrow. I have finals next week."

  "That's it? 'I'll call you'? That's all you
have to say?"

  "What the hell do you want me to say?! Oh sure, Laur, yeah, everything's fine. You cheated on me, but I forgive you. We're cool."

  "Not with that tone, no."

  "You tricked me into attending this stupid birthday party, got me drunk, and then you thought that was the perfect time to talk about getting back together. Which one of us is the older one again?"

  "Fuck you! Don't call me. Don't talk to me. Just get the hell out!"

  "Yeah, that's what I thought. See you in a couple months for whichever friend's birthday is next. But this time I'll bring my own beer, thanks."

  "Oh, very funny! Yeah, you're a fucking riot!"

  But he's already gone.

  ( 7 )

  "Marc?"

  He stirred, but didn't open his eyes. "Hhhmmm?"

  "Marc, wake up. It's almost seven." Laura gently nudged him and then sat up and stretched. She rubbed her eyes, yawned, and then realized that she was in the living room. And so was Marc. "Why are you out here?"

  The commodore stood, wrapping one of the blankets around him. "I don't know."

  She reached for her jacket, and the packet of medication fell from the pocket as she put it on. She picked it up and turned it over. "You sneaky bastard! You took two of my pills."

  He reappeared in a t-shirt and pajama pants. "I couldn't sleep. What do you want for breakfast?"

  She followed him into the kitchen, running a hand through her hair and tucking in her blouse. "Just some coffee, thanks." Marc ordered two cups from the food dispenser and passed one to her. She took a sip and then looked at him, surprised. "How did you get this flavor? I've been trying for months to get my dispenser back home to create it, and it never comes close."

  He smiled. "A good cook never reveals his secret ingredient."

  Laura sighed contentedly as she took another long sip and sat down at the table opposite Marc. "What was the name of that café?"

  "The Tilted J."

  "Yes! That's it!" She circled her hands around the steaming mug and leaned closer for another whiff of the aromatic brew. "It's too bad that there wasn't more dates like that one during our time together."

  "You really think that would have made a difference?"

  "Don't you?"