by R. M. Olson
There was a moment of startled silence, and then various shocked profanities began to filter through the general com line.
Jez looked over at Radic. He winked at her, grinning. “Come on,” he said into the com. “We’re not answering any questions until you get your lazy butts up here.”
It took the rest of their rag-tag group of ex-convicts a surprisingly short amount of time to assemble, and less time for Olya and Misko to ensconce themselves in Ysbel and Tanya’s arms.
When they had, Radic turned to Galina.
“You want to explain?” he asked softly. “Or do you want me to?”
“I’ll do it.” Galina’s face was set, that expression that made Jez want to hold her until the tension drained from her body, want to make everything OK somehow.
But the thing was, Galina could do that all by herself. Always had been able to.
Galina stepped forward, glancing around the ragged group of them. Their eyes were fixed on her, and Jez felt a small spark of pride as she watched her.
“There’s—a lot that’s changed in the past few hours,” said Galina, her voice just loud enough to carry.
Jez leaned back against the wall and watched her explain, and tried not to think about the ache growing in her chest. Because of course Galina was staying here. Jez had known that from the moment she’d realized what Masha was saying, back in Grigory’s private room in the Strani house.
It would take some time for the properties to get transferred over. But Galina would stay, and she’d shut them down, and she’d figure out what to do for the people who’d been used here in the houses—the entertainment, yes, but also the cooks and the servers and the cleaners. The people who’d been dragged away from everything they knew and forced into something designed to rip their humanity from them. But the thing was, people weren’t like that. You couldn’t take away someone’s humanity, no matter how much you tried. People were still people, no matter what you did to them, and the only people who lost their humanity were the ones who gave it away freely trying to take someone else’s. And Galina would do something about it. Hell, she was born for it.
And Jez would fly away, with Masha and the others. Because that’s what she was born for.
The crew hadn’t had a chance to talk it over yet, but that’s what they’d do. They all knew it, she’d seen it when she looked at them. Maybe with more time to prepare, Lev could have come up with an alternate plan. But Masha had been right—starting tonight, or maybe tomorrow if they were lucky, the system was going to devolve into a civil war, and the centre of it would be fought right down the streets of Prasvishoni.
And the truth was, none of them could leave the people they cared about there to get hurt.
“Anyone who’d like to stay and help, I’d be honoured to have you. But it will be long, and difficult, and I don’t expect it from any of you unless you want to. Take the evening. Think about it. You can tell me in the morning.” Galina paused a moment, as the others turned to each other and the quiet buzz of conversation began, then stepped back until she was beside Jez. Jez gave her a quick smile, and Galina took her hand and squeezed it.
“I don’t know about the rest of you,” said Ivan, looking around at them. “But I feel like I could sleep standing up.”
Tae smiled at him wearily, then turned to the others. “Come on. We can talk in the morning.”
Jez smiled slightly. He knew as well as she did what they’d decide.
As the others dispersed, the crew filed up the stairs, huddled together in a group as if they didn’t really want to get too far away from each other.
When they reached the hallway upstairs, Jez didn’t turn off at her room, and Galina didn’t seem to mind. At Galina’s room, Jez hesitated at the door. Her heart was beating a little faster than it should have been, and there was something sick in the back of her throat.
“Galya,” she said quietly. “Can I come in for a minute?”
Galina nodded and pushed the door open. She sat on the bed, still holding Jez’s hand, and after a moment, Jez sat beside her.
“I guess this is goodbye, then,” said Galina finally. She was looking down at their twined fingers, and her voice was subdued.
“Yeah,” said Jez, and for a moment they were silent. Her heart was beating so quickly she thought it might make her sick. “Galya,” she said at last.
Galina looked up.
“Galya. I—” She swallowed hard, trying to make the words come out. “Look. I know I said I didn’t do relationships—but here’s the thing. I—you—” She took a deep breath. “I thought maybe, when—when all this is done—I mean, look, I thought we got along pretty well, and maybe—maybe after I get back—”
Galina looked up at her, and there was something so sad in her face that Jez knew, the moment she saw it, what Galina’s answer was going to be.
“Jez,” she said, cupping Jez’s hand in both of her own. “I haven’t met someone like you, ever. You’re—you’re something special. And I wish I could—I wish—” She closed her eyes for a moment, and Jez’s chest twisted painfully.
“I really like you, Jez. I like you more than I’ve liked anyone in a very long time.” Her voice was quiet, and Jez could hear the hurt in it, and somehow that made it even worse. Galina glanced up and tried to smile. “But look at us. This, here, doing this—this is what I’m good at. This is what I’ve always dreamed of. And I’ve seen you. You’d go mad if you had to stay on the ground. You belong in the sky, Jez. I’ve seen you there. I’ve seen the look on your face. It’s what you were born for.”
“I—I could—I don’t know, I could fly runs, and then come back here and spend some time,” said Jez. Her voice was choking, just a little. “We could make it work.”
Galina looked up at her again. She was blinking back tears, and suddenly Jez was too. “No, Jez,” she whispered. “You wouldn’t be happy. I wouldn’t be happy. I need someone who can be here, with me, and I know you’d try, but I couldn’t watch you tear yourself to pieces. And you deserve someone who loves what you love, who can see the same things you do when you sit in the cockpit and stare out to space, like you can see all the way into heaven.” She squeezed Jez’s hand in both of her own, and Jez closed her eyes for a minute, because damn it to hell, she hadn’t planned on crying, and it was actually kind of pathetic, honestly, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
“Yeah,” she said finally, when she could speak again. “Yeah, guess you’re right. Anyways, I’ve always been kind of crap at relationships, so—” she shrugged, and tried to smile.
Galina shook her head fiercely. “Stop it, Jez. That isn’t what this is about. You say those things about yourself all the time, and they’re not true. You’re kind, and you’re caring, and you’re brave, and when anyone else in the world would run away, you stick around. Whoever you find, whenever you find them, is going to be very, very lucky. And I wish it was me, Jez. I honestly wish it could be me. But if we were together, one of us would be miserable, and that wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”
Damn it to hell, it had actually been easier before Galina had started saying nice things about her. “Yeah,” she said finally. “Thanks. And—well, and thanks for the past few weeks. It was really good.”
She couldn’t look at Galina, because she was pretty sure if she did, she’d just break down and start crying, and she didn’t want to do that right now.
She pushed herself off the bed, and Galina stood too, quickly.
“Jez,” she whispered. And finally, reluctantly, Jez turned to look at her. Galina leaned in and kissed her, gently.
“You mean a lot to me, Jez,” she said, finally. “I—I wish—”
And then Galina turned away, blinking back her own tears.
Jez stepped out the door and wandered down the deserted hallway. Finally, she slipped into the conference room, closing the door behind her, because she wasn’t quite sure she was ready to go back to her room alone right now.
She looked aroun
d for a moment, then collapsed onto the couch, staring out at nothing.
She didn’t feel like crying anymore, not really. She felt empty, like someone had taken a spoon and scooped out all of her insides, leaving nothing but a shell.
The thing was, Galina was right. They’d both known that. And honestly, it was exactly the kind of thing she always looked for—someone hot who’d spend every moment possible with her for as long as they were together, but no strings attached. She could leave when she wanted to, and it wouldn’t even matter.
But—well, but something had changed, somehow, in the past few months. Since she’d started flying with the crew. Maybe she still didn’t completely understand all that crap, but somehow, the thought of being alone again wasn’t nearly as attractive as it had been, once. And somehow she found herself actually wanting people who would stick around. Wanting a person who would stick around. Someone who could be what Ysbel was to Tanya. A person who meant home, no matter where you both were.
She swore quietly to herself.
That was the worst part of it, in the end. She finally wanted what everyone else in the world wanted, apparently. But she was still her. And so she’d never actually be able to have it. First there was that fiasco with Lev, where she’d almost lost him for good, and now Galina.
Galina hadn’t said any of those things, of course. She’d said all sorts of nice things, and honestly, Jez would have assumed that she’d like that more than someone who basically pulled out a heat gun and threatened to shoot her, which was what some of her ex-lovers had done.
But the thing was, insults and threats she could brush off. Galina’s words, she couldn’t. They were kind, and nice, and they crept down inside her. And they told her that yes, maybe she was all those things Galina said, but … it still wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
She would never be enough.
That kid she’d brought back and tried to save, and who had died anyways.
Masha, who she’d managed to convince the others to trust, and who could have killed Lev.
Galina.
She tipped her head back against the back of the couch, too tired and empty to cry.
“Tae.”
Ivan’s hand on his arm was comforting, and even in the dark of the familiar hallway leading to the rooms, Tae found he’d turned towards him without thinking.
Ivan’s eyes were warm and dark, and there was a familiar concern on his mild face, and, like always, Tae’s muscles relaxed just a little, the tension in them bleeding away, and he was smiling, even though he was so tired he could hardly think.
“You’re going with Masha, aren’t you?” Ivan asked softly.
Tae closed his eyes, and for a brief moment he felt the sick panic of earlier in the day, when they’d walked into Grigory’s room and he was sure he’d killed Caz and Peti and Mila and Luka and every damn one of the street kids, who’s only crime had been that they knew him and they needed him.
Ivan swore softly, his hand tightening on Tae’s arm. “Tae. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. You haven’t even had time to call your friends yet, for the Lady’s sake. Sit down and give them a call, because the look on your face right now is enough to give me nightmares. We can talk later, I’ll wait.”
Tae gave him a grateful look and sank down against the wall. His hands were shaking as he hit the button on his com. Ivan had slid down beside him, and the warmth of Ivan’s hand on his shoulder was honestly the only thing keeping him from passing out.
The com buzzed for an endless few moments. And then Caz’s face, sleepy and worried, appeared on the holoscreen, and Tae sagged back against the wall, lightheaded with relief.
“Tae?” Caz asked, his voice thick with sleep. “What is it? What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” said Tae, when he could speak again. “I just—I wanted to make sure everything was alright.”
Caz frowned at him. “Yeah, everything’s fine. What happened?”
Tae took a long breath. “It’s—a long story. I’ll tell you soon. I—didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s fine,” said Caz. He glanced over at Ivan. “Who’s that?”
Tae found he was smiling again, without quite realizing it. “A friend. I met him a few months ago, and he’s been helping us out. Ivan, Caz.”
“Nice to meet you, Ivan.”
“And you. Tae talks a lot about you,” said Ivan. There was a smile in his voice, like he was genuinely happy to be introduced to a bunch of rag-tag street kids.
Caz studied Ivan for a moment, and when he turned back to Tae, he had a slight, amused smile on his face, and Tae wasn’t entirely sure why. “You look tired, Tae.”
“Yeah.” Tae rubbed a hand over his face and blinked back his exhaustion. “Look, we’re … probably going to be coming back there soon. I’ll—I’ll see you all then.”
“Sounds good. Goodnight, then,” Caz said, through a yawn, and again, Tae felt almost lightheaded with relief.
Caz and the rest of them were alive. Somehow, he still wasn’t certain how, they’d survived this.
And it wasn’t even just that. Caz looked well-fed, for once, and the tiredness on his face was that of someone woken out of a sound sleep, not someone who hadn’t been able to sleep soundly for months because he couldn’t afford to let down his guard for even one moment.
“’Night,” said Tae, and tapped off his com. He turned to see Ivan smiling at him.
“Will you be able to sleep now?” Ivan asked, that warm amusement in his voice.
Tae took a long breath and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I will, now.”
“Good.” Ivan paused. “I’m glad I got to meet these friends of yours, even if it was over a holoscreen.”
Tae realized he was watching Ivan, and he probably had been for a lot longer than was really polite. His face heated, and he looked away quickly. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I’m glad you could meet them too.”
Ivan pushed himself to his feet and offered Tae his hand. “You’ve already decided, haven’t you?” he asked quietly, as he pulled Tae to his feet. “You’re going with Masha.”
Tae looked up at him, and Ivan’s eyes caught his and held them.
He swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he said. “I—I don’t know what else I’d do. My friends are there, and I can’t very well—I can’t—”
Ivan’s smile was warm, and Tae found he still couldn’t look away. “I know. You can’t leave someone you care about to get hurt.”
“Look, I just do what anyone would do,” he muttered, but there was something about the way Ivan’s eyes held his that tightened something in his throat, and he found it was hard to speak.
“So I just wanted to let you know,” said Ivan. “I’m coming too. Back to Prasvishoni, with the rest of you.”
Tae blinked. “You—Ivan, you don’t have to—”
“Tae.” Ivan stepped closer and put both his hands on Tae’s arms, turning Tae to face him.
For no reason he could fathom, Tae’s breath was coming far too quickly, his heart pounding an unsteady rhythm against his chest. Ivan was standing very close to him, and there was something about the pressure of his hands that formed a tight, warm knot in the pit of Tae’s stomach, and his brain didn’t seem to be working the way it should be.
Ivan’s dark eyes were studying his face. “Listen to me, Tae,” he said finally. “You said you wouldn’t leave a friend to get hurt. And I’m not going to either, alright? If you don’t want me to come, just tell me. But if you think there’s even a possibility that I could help you? I’m coming.”
“I—” Tae’s mouth was dry. He swallowed hard. “I … do want you to come. If—if you want to. I don’t—you don’t have to—” He wasn’t sure what had happened to his voice, and why his words seemed to be coming out tangled.
“Tae.” Ivan smiled that smile again, his eyes never leaving Tae’s. “I told you. If there’s any possibility at all I can help—I’m coming. OK?” He paused, and his eyes still held Tae’s, and
there was an intensity in them as he watched Tae, and for half a second Tae’s thoughts went back to that moment on Grigory’s ship, his back pressed into the arm of the couch, Ivan’s mouth on his—
He closed his eyes and wrenched his thoughts away with an effort.
He was being ridiculous, honestly.
“I—I should probably get to bed,” he said, looking away quickly before his eyes could get caught again, although his throat was so dry he wasn’t sure how he managed to form the words.
Ivan gave a small, rueful smile, and released Tae with what felt almost like reluctance. Although to tell the truth, Tae was pretty certain he couldn’t trust anything his senses were telling him right now, considering how the whole world seemed to have gone slightly fuzzy. “You’re right. You look like you need your sleep. And we’ll probably be busy tomorrow.” He paused a moment, then rested his hand lightly on Tae’s shoulder again for the briefest of moments. “See you in the morning.”
Then he turned and walked off down the hall, and Tae stared after him, and he wasn’t sure why his knees felt shaky enough that he had to put a hand on the wall to steady himself. And he wasn’t sure why he was smiling, and he wasn’t sure why that ache in his heart that had been there ever since he left Dmitri standing at the gates of the university seemed to have shrunk, just a little.
He only knew that for the first time in a very long time, he felt utterly and inexplicably and absurdly happy.
“Mama?”
Ysbel looked down at Olya, who was clinging tightly to her hand. “Yes, my love?” she said, smiling despite herself.
“You won, didn’t you? You stopped Grigory, like you said you would?”
Ysbel exchanged glances with Tanya over Olya’s head, and smiled. “Well, I wouldn’t necessarily say that. But your mamochka and I helped, anyways.”
Olya breathed in a deep sigh of contentment. “I knew you would,” she said, and there was a certainty in her voice that filled Ysbel with a sort of deep happiness that was almost painful.