Deadly Betrayal

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by Maria Hammarblad


  “Alex, it’s me. Let me in.”

  The voice was so much like Adam’s it gave me hope for a second, until I realized it must be John. A part of me didn’t want to let him in. How could I stand looking into eyes identical to Adam’s and hear a voice just like Adam’s when he was gone?

  A calmer inner voice reminded me John suffered a loss too. He probably grieved too. Doing it together might not be the worst thing in the world.

  He slammed an arm around my shoulders and pulled me to the sofa. The eyes that met mine were blank and watery.

  “I have a plan, hon’. Let’s sit here and get really drunk.”

  “You’re already drunk.”

  “Not enough.”

  I leaned against him and he held me. In the past my tears always made him uncomfortable, but this time he didn’t wince. He just held me.

  We sat there for hours, John drinking his way to oblivion and me crying my way there.

  I woke on the sofa the next morning, surrounded by John’s arms. It was all very chaste, but I still felt guilty. There shouldn’t be comfort at a time like this. Not even from family.

  I sat up and rubbed my eyes, almost falling off the edge in the process. John groaned. He didn’t even sit up; he just reached for his bottle and took a swig.

  Adam was still dead.

  Chapter Four

  John and I found a new way of life. Sort of.

  He went from drunk to passed out to hung over and back to drunk. A part of me suspected he didn’t grieve that much, but he probably took Adam’s death as an excuse to finally drink himself into an early grave. He had headed there for years, but in the past someone always gave him a reason not to.

  At another point in time I would have cared, but I was too numb.

  I wept and slept in his arms. If anyone came to see us, he threw them out in real or pretended fits of rage.

  I made sure he ate something and had a glass of water every now and then, and in return he made sure I was never alone. I had a shoulder to cry on and someone to talk to, and as days went by, telling stories and memories of Adam became less a matter of hysteria and more loving remembrance. I must admit, a lot of the time I pretended John was Adam.

  We received many messages. An impressive number said, “Need your help,” “Please contact me,” and “Important.” Neither of us were in shape to help anyone with anything, or had the energy to figure out who sent them. John said, “Yeah, whatever” and deleted them. This wasn’t a good time for coping with other people.

  I didn’t expect Anya to condone this lifestyle, but when John asked both her and Ima to leave, I heard her explain, “It’s not personal. Everyone deals with grief in different ways. They need time.”

  Our way might not be healthy or even sane, but at least we had each other. Both of us took care of the other the best we could, and at last on my part the large and drunken man gave me a reason to face another day, and another after that. Left to my own devices I would have given up.

  One day John said, “I didn’t even know he was out there. Not until Jones called me and asked me to check in on you.”

  During the crisis with the Grendl I hadn’t even thought of calling for John. He wasn’t a part of the crew, but neither was I, and he was normally on top of my list of people to turn to.

  He said, “I was in the engine room, the place was on fire. Chaos. I wish he’d told me.”

  I leaned my head against his shoulder. “I don’t understand.”

  He made an attempt at a coherent explanation. “They must have used two ships. They teleported Jones out when our shields were down, but the Grendl never lowered theirs. They probably took him with a smaller ship and docked. We could have done that too. Adam sabotaged their shields and teleported Blake over here. If I had known he was out there I would have gone out in my ship and tried to save him for you.”

  Complicated, but I got the gist.

  Heartbreaking too. Especially the part about going into space to face an overwhelming force and certain death to save Adam for me.

  “John, don’t think like that. This is not your fault. If you had been out there you would have died too, and I would have lost both of you. I wouldn’t survive losing you too.”

  *****

  They held a ceremony for Adam. It was delayed due to the extensive repairs on the ship, but Blake came to tell us himself.

  The mere mention of the funeral made Adam’s death seem final and my eyes teared up.

  John said, “Are you trying to kill her? Does she look in shape for a ship-wide funeral?”

  He was right. I would have collapsed on the way there, and the mere thought of meeting a thousand staring faces made me feel faint. I could deal with anything with Adam by my side. Burying him, not so much.

  That night I joined John in drinking and my brain glitched into thinking he was my husband. He and Adam were so much alike it could confuse anyone. I kissed him, but he held me back.

  “Honey, I’m not saying I never thought about it, but I’m not taking advantage of my son’s drunk and grieving widow.”

  His voice was so kind it made everything worse.

  “But…”

  “No but. Give it time. You’re not in a hurry anywhere.”

  He looked so sincere I had to say, “I’m sorry.”

  “No need to be. Come here. Sleep. I’ll hold you, but I’m not making love with you. Not yet, maybe never.”

  Once I curled up against him I was out like a light. Drinking clearly wasn’t my thing.

  I don’t know how long this went on, but it must have been weeks. I’m sure they repaired the ship, hunted the saboteurs, and a number of other things, but I didn’t care.

  One morning I woke in the sofa with John’s arms around me, like every morning. No one had used the bed since Adam died. It was a great bed when he was in it, but the prospect of sleeping in it without him made it look like a cold monstrosity that might eat me.

  I needed fresh clothes and a shower, and looking at John, my agenda for the day should include getting him to shower and at least put on a fresh shirt.

  He didn’t stir as I moseyed over to the replicator for coffee.

  When Adam was alive, the main computer seemed to find giving me anything but what I asked for a great sport. It ended the minute he died. If I asked for coffee now, I got coffee.

  The memory made me want to weep again. He had appeared in the room at two minutes past six every morning for so many years, waking me up with breakfast as soon as his shift was over. It would never happen again.

  Never was a long time.

  Could a human die from heartache?

  If so, I probably would have by now if it weren’t for John.

  I turned to look at him and saw the room from a new angle. When standing at the replicator I could fully make out what a mess it was.

  What a mess we were.

  All these bottles needed to go in recycling. Where did he get all this booze anyway? Contraband would exist everywhere, but not in these amounts.

  I cleaned a little and took a shower. John still snored when I returned.

  This has got to stop.

  It was the first sane thought to cross my mind since Adam’s death. He wouldn’t have wanted us to wither away like this.

  I asked the computer for two cups of coffee and went to wake my father in law.

  He groaned and rubbed his face. “What is it, Hon?”

  His question made me smile. It didn’t matter how drunk or hung-over he might be, he was always concerned for me. Adam had been the same way. It didn’t matter what happened to him, he always worried for me, trying to keep me safe.

  I was lucky to be so loved.

  “I made you coffee.”

  He reached for his bottle.

  “You know I don’t want coffee.”

  I put a hand on his, preventing the whisky from reaching his lips.

  “Wait. Yes, I know you don’t want coffee, but maybe you would have some anyway?”

 
He looked surprised.

  How could I explain this in a manner able to penetrate the mists in his head?

  “I need to...” talk to you “ask you about something important, and it would be great if you’d sober up enough for me to do that.”

  “I’m awake now. You can talk to me now.”

  He still put the bottle down.

  “I could, but you wouldn’t remember it.”

  It didn’t seem all that funny to me, but he chuckled. “Fair enough. Hold that thought.”

  He headed for the restroom and almost stumbled over a chair.

  *****

  John made a valiant effort to sober up.

  Late in the afternoon he showered and put on clean clothes, sat on the sofa, and put his feet up on the table.

  “Okay, I’m listening. Talk.”

  “I can’t believe you did all that for me.”

  He laughed. “If I were you I wouldn’t count on it lasting, so take the opportunity right now.”

  Good point. I should cut to the chase.

  “I think we should leave. Staying on this ship will kill both of us.”

  That clearly wasn’t what he expected. Either that, or he was still dizzier than I thought.

  I tried to elaborate. “If you and I stay on the Bell, you will drink yourself to death and I will grieve myself to death.”

  He nodded. “I thought that’s what we were doing.”

  “It is what we’re doing, I’m just not so sure it’s a good plan.”

  It definitely wasn’t a plan Adam would have approved. He would have wanted us to live. How many times had he plotted to make us live together just because it made sense to his logic circuits?

  John gave a slight shrug. “Where do you want to go?”

  “I don’t think it matters. I’m sure you could think of something.”

  I never cared where the Bell went. No reason to care where his ship went.

  He grimaced. “And I guess you want me to stay sober enough to fly us there, even though we don’t know where there is.”

  “That would be good since I don’t know how to fly.”

  A smile crept onto his lips. “I’ll teach you. That’ll give us something to do.”

  Adam had tried. He showed me the controls of the shuttles, but at the time I didn’t care. He had been there to do it for me, and he had been better at it than anyone else. Why would I learn when my husband was the best pilot in the fleet?

  John said, “When do you want to leave?”

  “Now. The sooner the better.”

  I hadn’t expected him to go along with all this so easily. Maybe he knew I was right.

  *****

  Packing was quick. There wasn’t much I wanted to bring, just some clothes and keepsakes. I found myself packing more of Adam’s stuff than my own.

  Having his things and clothes wouldn’t make him come back, but it made me feel better. Connected.

  Whatever remained could be stored on the Bell. I didn’t expect to come back, but who knew.

  Leaving was for the best. They probably needed the rooms for someone else. Someone who would take Adam’s job and Adam’s place. Maybe this someone was already on the ship, waiting for me to move out of the way.

  No, that wasn’t right. His position would be filled, but he would never be forgotten. He had given too much for both the ship and the Confederacy to be forgotten.

  The thought gave some comfort, but nothing could fill the black void inside. Traveling might not fill the emptiness either, but it was worth a try.

  I pressed the communicator next to the door. Even this inanimate object echoed with memories. Adam taught me to use it, a long time ago. He had seemed invincible.

  “I’m ready.”

  The Captain’s voice answered, “Are you sure about this?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  I hauled my luggage into the hallway and glanced back into the room that had seen so much joy and so many tears. It had been home, a good home, but now it was just a room. Adam furnished his quarters for me, to make a home for me, and if I kept looking at it and thinking about it I’d probably go crazy.

  Blake, Anya, and John came up in the lift. Blake said, “So, where are you going?”

  John shrugged. “I don’t know. Somewhere that’s not here.”

  Anya said, “I’ll miss you. Both of you.”

  John managed a smile. “I know, and we’ll miss you. We just have to get out of here for a while.”

  She bit her lip and nodded. She was my best friend and I should care more about removing John from her, but I didn’t have the energy.

  At least she was still on the ship. It must mean Martinez failed. I hadn’t even thought about him since before the disaster. Maybe he had been in cahoots with the people on the Grendl, in which case he might be dead.

  Good.

  Blake nodded. “Alex, you know you always have a home here when you’re ready to come back.”

  “Thank you.”

  Chapter Five

  It didn’t take long before we were in John’s ship, drifting away from the Bell.

  I sat in silence, listening to him exchanging greetings with the other ship. Looking at it now, I couldn’t believe how long I lived there. That woman was gone and I had become another person.

  The radio crackled to life one last time and Anya’s voice said, “Be safe. Touch base with us. Come back when you’re ready.”

  John’s fingers didn’t dance over the console like Adam’s would have, but he worked with a confident calm.

  He said, “Press that button.”

  It was big, green, and friendly. I did what he told me to do, and yelped when the ship took off. I didn’t really feel it, but I could see it through the window.

  “Where are we going?”

  “GA55. I figured we’d start with a space station. It’s not like we have somewhere to be.”

  Good point.

  John got to his feet. “Come.”

  Will the ship be okay?

  Before he came to stay on the Bell he had been alone in space all the time, and probably traveled across large parts of the galaxy without anyone by the helm.

  Leaving it unmanned still felt weird.

  “Where are we going?”

  He didn’t answer, but paused by the door to make sure I followed. We only went a few yards down the corridor and stepped into a small lounge. I had been on his ship so many times and still had no idea the room existed. It made sense, the ship was made for having a crew, but I’d never given it much thought.

  John nodded towards a chair. “I foresee that you and I will be out here for a long time. You need to learn to play cards.”

  Fair enough. Despite Anya and our friends being on the Bell, I couldn’t imagine us going back. This was a new start for both of us.

  I sat down and pulled my feet up. John stepped over to a cupboard and produced two small bottles and a deck of cards.

  “Beer? I didn’t know this century had beer.”

  “Yeah, I don’t see Adam telling you about things like that.”

  To be fair, food and drinks had meant nothing to him.

  A few hours later, John followed me to the floor with crew quarters.

  “They’re all the same. Pick one. Pick all.”

  “The one closest to you.”

  He laughed. “This room it is. I think it still has some of your stuff in it.”

  He was right, I had stayed there before. The last time was when Eve’s minions kidnapped me and John and Anya rescued me. There was an ample amount of me in there, even clothes I had forgotten about.

  Moving in and unpacking felt like turning a new page, starting fresh, and all those clichés.

  I felt almost normal for an hour, but when I no longer had something to do I was unhappy again.

  Lonely.

  John knocked on the door just as I decided to go look for him.

  “How ‘ya doin’?”

  “I was just going to see you.”

>   He smirked and came in to sit on the edge of the bed.

  “You too, huh? I used to be happy with being alone.”

  “Not me. Always hated it.”

  “I think it rubbed off on me. Dammit, woman.”

  When night fell, I still hated being alone. I hadn’t even attempted to sleep on my own for a long, long time, but I didn’t have a reason to curl up with John on a sofa anymore. Crawling into his bed seemed like overdoing it.

  The room was pleasant enough during the day, but now it appeared spooky and barren. My imagination painted out monsters, and every sound from the ship made me think there would be a crack in the hull or that something would explode.

  Seeing things from the bright side, fear probably meant I had chosen to live.

  I held out until just after midnight.

  Knocking on John’s door felt childish, but he was used to me. He couldn’t think I wanted to seduce him when dressed in a flannel pajama with little bears on it, but going over there still made me feel silly.

  “Come in, Alex.”

  I peeked in, relieved to find him up and fully dressed. He sat in a chair with an old fashioned paper book and didn’t look surprised to see me.

  “You don’t have to knock, Hon. Just come in.”

  He had probably been waiting for me. He knew just as well as I did I wouldn’t be able to sleep.

  “Alexandre Dumas, Three Musketeers. It must have been an interesting era.”

  What? Oh, the book.

  “You would have been a great musketeer.”

  “Hardly.”

  He put the book to the side. “I was just thinking, these beds aren’t as comfortable as I remember. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to sleep on the sofa in the lounge.”

  “I agree. Just for a night or so. While we get settled in.”

  He got to his feet, slammed an arm around my shoulders, and headed for the door.

  I liked his way of thinking. Being together was good and the sofa held an innocent air. He might have had dozens of women there, but it still felt innocent.

  Once curled up with John’s arms around me I felt like someone put leaden weights on my eyelids.

  He murmured, “This is so much better.”

 

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