Higher Ground

by Becky Black

“I’ve just been out gathering data from the test farms for the quarterly reports.”

  “Those damn quarterly reports,” Johnson said, shaking his head. “They were the bane of my life for thirty years. I still wake up from nightmares about forgetting to send them.”

  “Some things never change, eh?”

  “Well, at least you’ve got the relays to transmit them straight back to Earth. We used to have to put ours into a communications pod and blast it off to Saira and hope it didn’t get swallowed by a black hole on the way.”

  Adam chuckled at that. “Sounds like using carrier pigeons.”

  “Only less reliable. At least one a year failed to make it. But somehow, we muddled through anyway.” He smiled around at the view, the town, and the distant countryside around it.

  “You did better than muddle through,” Adam said in all sincerity. “Zahara is beautiful.”

  “Yes, I think we made a pretty neat job of it.”

  They sat in silence for a while, old colonist and new. If Adam could call himself a colonist. He was here on a fixed contract. He hadn’t come to settle. Had he?

  “Sir, can I ask why you stayed after you retired?” Many of the founders had gone back to Earth after retiring. The Terraforming Authority encouraged that, at least in these relatively early days of a colony. Like children, the retirees consumed resources but didn’t work.

  “I never even thought of going back. I’ve nobody to go back to Earth for. My daughter and my grandchildren are here. My wife is buried here, and I will be one day too. This is home now. Not Earth.” He looked at Adam. “Maybe you’ll feel the same way eventually.”

  “So it’s people that keep you here? Your family and friends?”

  Johnson shook his head slowly, looking thoughtful. “Not only them. There’s a tie to the land too. It’s like if you ever built a house with your own hands, it would mean more to you than one you just inherited, wouldn’t it? Something you made.”

  “Yes, of course.” Adam looked around. Eventually, he’d face the choice—stay or go. But he did have people to go home to on Earth—his parents, his sisters, and their children. But by then, might he have someone here who he didn’t want to leave? Zach? He smiled. Getting well ahead of himself there. But looking closer into the immediate future, he had to do some preparation for Zach coming around, and time kept marching on.

  “I’d better go. Nice talking to you, sir.”

  “And you, Adam. Good luck with your reports. And…” He smiled. “Well, anything else you might need luck with.”

  Was that a wink from the old man? Did everyone in town know about him and Zach? Almost certainly. Dr. Johnson might look like an old man sleepily watching the world hurry by, but he missed nothing, and people often did what Adam had just done—came to sit with him and tell him things. He knew everything that was going on around here.

  Maybe Adam should ask him if he knew what the hell was going on with Zach.

  * * * *

  Adam arrived back in the lab fifteen minutes late to find Wilson was waiting there, fuming.

  “I said seventeen hundred, Mr. Gray. I’m quite sure of that. I checked with Ms. Simpson here.” He gestured at Jan, head down at the grafting bench, working hard. “And she’s sure that’s what I said too.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Adam said. “I was talking to Dr. Johnson.”

  “Oh right.” It took the wind out of Wilson’s sails. “He’s well?”

  “Hale and hearty.” And with his finger right on the pulse as usual. “I’ll just collate the data from this afternoon,” he went on, hoping he’d distract Wilson from thinking about the fact that talking to Dr. Johnson meant Adam must have stopped in town, where he had no business being.

  “Good. Have it on my desk before you leave.” Wilson walked out, a little deflated looking, having apparently worked up a head of steam to blow his top at Adam.

  “You know he could check that,” Jan said as Adam sat beside her and brought up the data he’d already transmitted to the Institute’s computers.

  “And he’ll find out that’s exactly what I was doing,” Adam said. “Though I’d hope he doesn’t realize I was coming out of the grocery store at the time.”

  She shook her head. “You are in trouble.”

  “Yeah, I’m a bad boy, I admit.”

  It all took on a ludicrous air. Being told off for taking the truck, the deadline for these reports. Somehow what Zach had told him gave everything a feeling of being pointless. Adam shook that away. Even Zach wasn’t sure he was right about whatever he was talking about anyway. No use basing his choices on something Zach might turn around and say he was mistaken about; just forget it. Adam went to work with an eye on the clock. He’d be out of here by 18:00, and Zach should arrive at 20:00. He had some staging to do.

  Chapter Five

  Would rose petals on the bed be too much? Probably. Also, Adam had no rose petals. But after all the teasing and anticipation he wanted tonight to be as close to perfect as he could make it.

  He’d changed the bedclothes, putting on some freshly laundered and pressed white sheets, enjoying the fresh scent as he shook them out and let them float down. He’d plumped up the pillows, also in fresh cases. All this done, he examined the results with a critical eye. Everything looked good, the white sheets and pillows contrasting with a blue-green eiderdown. As a final touch, he turned down the covers at one corner, creating a wordless invitation and welcome.

  He swept various bits and pieces from the nightstand into a drawer and sprayed some room deodorant around, banishing the last lingering evidence of the dirty socks he’d evicted from under the bed earlier. And he grinned at himself for the great big fool he was, treating the room like a bridal chamber. It would serve him right if they ended up getting carried away and having a quickie on the couch.

  But they’d use the bed eventually; he knew it. He’d give Zach a night he’d never forget in this bed. Shame it wasn’t bigger than a double. Adam liked a big canvas to express himself on. More comfortable for afterward too, assuming Zach stayed. He probably would; he seemed like the staying-the-night sort. Waking up with him tomorrow would be almost as delightful as going to sleep with him tonight.

  He checked his reflection once more before he left the room. His hair was just the right degree of sexily mussed up. His white button-down shirt showed an intriguing vee of skin at the base of his throat. Its sleeves were long, covering up more than usual, because he wanted to give Zach plenty to peel off him. A quick look at the rear view confirmed his black pants snugly outlined his ass, making it look especially grabbable.

  Perfect.

  He went back to the kitchen, where he was actually cooking. Nothing fancy, just some roast chicken, but he rarely cooked. His cupboards were full of snacks and breakfast foods. After making sure the chicken looked okay, he glanced at the clock. It showed 19:50. Would Zach be on time? Probably not. Especially if he forgot to charge his bike up again. Adam probably should have waited until Zach arrived before cooking the chicken. He wasn’t too good at these logistics, bringing dates home usually being a more casual affair. But he wanted to make this special for Zach. Zach needed it. He’d been working too hard and getting himself quite stressed out, and a relaxing evening would do him good. Adam started putting a green salad together. The desserts were already in the refrigerator, along with the wine, chilling nicely. Even if Zach was a little late, this would still be perfect.

  At 20:25, he started to worry. He tried to call Zach but got no answer. He left a message, waited for a reply. A reply came back at 20:45.

  Sorry. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Z

  Well what the hell did that mean? At least he knew Zach wasn’t dead in a ditch, but he was close to an hour late. Adam fired off a curt message.

  Where are you? What are you doing?

  The reply answered both questions with one word.

  Work.

  Adam threw the Link down on the sofa and stalked into the kitchen. The chicken ha
d been staying warm on a low heat for a while and had started to shrivel up. Well, that was gone to hell, then. He could just eat it himself, but he felt no more inclined to do that than take a bite out of one of the plates. In fact, less so. The way his jaw was clenching, he could have chewed through the kitchen worktops. He took a bottle of beer back to the living room and flopped on the couch, uncaring about creasing his shirt.

  Damn. So much for perfection. Zach had seemed so determined earlier to see Adam tonight, but then he just stood him up like this? The fact Adam had to contact him first implied he’d entirely forgotten about their date. Maybe Zach wasn’t as keen as Adam had thought. He’d been so distracted the last few days, which he claimed to be about work, but could that be an excuse? Had he lost interest in Adam already?

  Adam began to wonder if he’d miscalculated. He’d thought he was bringing Zach to a boil with his flirting and teasing, but Zach either thought Adam wasn’t really interested or that he was too much of a tease. Dammit, he was too much of a tease! Usually it worked fine. He danced with a guy, building the anticipation. Most of them went along with it until he had them panting like dogs for him. But Zach was too smart to let his cock lead him. Adam had screwed it up with him. But Zach could have called him on it, if he thought Adam was leading him on, said he didn’t like it. And he could have called to cancel tonight. Not bothering was just selfish. Just being an asshole.

  If Zach had the nerve to show his damn face here tonight, Adam would slam the door right in that face.

  * * * *

  Adam woke on the couch when he heard the door chime. The room was dark—he’d sat brooding for a while as the light faded and then fallen asleep after a second beer. Damn lightweight, he thought. What the hell time was it anyway? The door chimed again, and he sat up. Just after midnight, according to the wall clock. Who called at midnight? Surely Zach wouldn’t have the nerve to come now?

  On the third chime, he got off the couch, moving stiffly, calling out, “Okay, okay, I’m coming.” He groaned and stretched as he reached the door, then shook himself and opened it.

  Zach.

  “You have to be kidding me.”

  Zach didn’t even look sheepish like a man four hours late for a date ought to. He looked wide-eyed and crazier than usual. His bike lay on its side on the path as if he’d just dropped it there. Adam moved to close the door, but Zach jumped forward and put a hand on it.

  “Please, I just have to know, did you pack?”

  Adam’s head throbbed. What the hell? Maybe he was still asleep and dreaming this.

  “Did I what?”

  “Pack your things. So you can leave quickly. I know, I’ve no right to come here now, but I have to tell you…if I’m right…” He ran a hand through his hair, and Adam frowned. God, he looked worse than ever. Cracking up. When had he last slept? Or had a proper meal?

  “Zach, what’s this about? Your results, what have you found?”

  “The colony is in danger. The whole island. I’m sure now. I’m sure, but nobody will listen to me! I just called Phillips, and he said he’ll look at the results in the morning, but—”

  “You called your professor at midnight?”

  “I had to. Maybe I should call Dr. Morrison. Or Ms. Johnson.”

  “The head of the council? Now?” Okay, Adam had to do something before Zach got himself locked away in the colony hospital’s rubber room. “Come in, Zach, please, don’t go rushing off without thinking this through.”

  “I’ve been thinking about nothing else for a week!” Zach flushed as he said it. “Ah, except for you. I’ve been thinking about you.”

  “Kind of forgot about me tonight, didn’t you?” A little bit of anger remained, despite his concern. He closed the door as Zach came inside.

  “Yes. I’m sorry. But I had to stay at work. I had to design some new tests, triple-check them. They’re running now, and they’ll tell me how long we have.” He stumbled and grabbed at Adam, who steadied him. Adam wanted to ask more details of how long they had until what, but Zach looked on the point of collapse.

  “Zach, listen to me. You need rest. You’re not thinking straight. You try to tell Phillips or Morrison anything, and they’ll think you’re raving.” Maybe he was raving, and he could rave as much as he liked to Adam. But if he raved to his bosses, he could ruin his standing here. They might send him back to Earth early. And Adam didn’t want him to go. He started to steer Zach toward the bedroom, Zach stumbling along beside him.

  “Where’m I going?” Zach asked, voice starting to slur. Adam took a quick sniff of his breath. No drink, just pure exhaustion. And a lot of coffee. Ineffective coffee.

  “My bed. You’re going to sleep, and in the morning, you’re going to see Phillips looking like a sane and rational scientist, not a mad one.”

  “Bed,” Zach sighed out, his voice full of the anticipation Adam had been trying to build in him for a week. But this time simply for the bed itself, not for having Adam in it. He was crashing hard, Adam realized. Like he’d used the last of his strength getting here and it had finally given out, the last few days catching up with him.

  In the bedroom, Zach crumpled onto the bed, facedown, on top of the covers. If there had been rose petals on there, he’d have inhaled one before he noticed it. Adam shook his head, looking down at the sprawled-out man on his bed.

  “This should have been the start of a night of fun and frolics.”

  Zach began to snore.

  “Oh, for crying out loud.” Why the hell had he let Zach in? Why couldn’t he have stayed mad and slammed the door on him? Let him go wake up Morrison or Johnson, raise the whole town and make them all think he was a lunatic. Why the hell should Adam care?

  No reason. Except he wasn’t done with Zach yet. He sat down on the bed and took off Zach’s shoes.

  Chapter Six

  An alarm woke Zach. He looked around in confusion, not recognizing the room or the alarm. Not his room, not his alarm.

  “Alarm off!” The muffled voice came from the other side of the bed, where someone lay buried under the covers. The alarm turned off.

  “Adam?”

  Adam’s tousled head emerged. “Who else were you expecting?” He rubbed his eyes. “Oh God, it can’t be seven already.” He pulled the covers back over his head.

  Zach looked down at himself. He lay on top of the bed covers with a blanket over him, all of his clothes still on. His shoes were missing, though. Hazy memories of the night before came back to him, riding through the darkness on his bike, half-asleep already but needing to find Adam, needing to make sure he’d be safe. And wanting him, wanting him so much. Fearing they’d never have another chance.

  But when he’d arrived, he’d been barely coherent, and the memories became even hazier, as if he’d been drunk, though he didn’t think he had been. Whatever happened after that it hadn’t included sex—that much he knew.

  “Adam, I’m sorry about last night.”

  Adam emerged from under the covers. “Sorry for standing me up? Or sorry for having the nerve to show up here? Or sorry for collapsing onto my bed like a dead weight?”

  “Um, all of those.”

  “I tried to undress you and get you under the covers, but it was like trying to move a sack of potatoes.”

  “Sorry,” Zach said again. He should leave, get to the lab, check the results of the tests he’d left running overnight. But maybe he had a few minutes. Desire stirred in him as he looked down at Adam, all warm and tousled from sleep. Adam’s eyes were open all the way now. Light stubble covered his chin and neck. Cautiously, expecting to have his hand slapped away, Zach reached out to stroke gently along Adam’s jaw, feeling the rasp of the night’s beard growth. Adam didn’t bat the hand away. His eyes locked with Zach’s. He must have had plans the night before—plans Zach had ruined. Maybe they could fulfill those plans this morning. He grew hotter at the thought of it, his skin flushing. His clothes felt suddenly tight, and he longed to be out of them.

  He
leaned closer, whispered Adam’s name, and “Sorry” again. He was sorry, for the loss of the time they could have had. This morning, they could have been waking up in this bed naked, both under the same covers, bodies entwined. But the past could never be reclaimed. Useless to worry about it. He had to think of the future. If they had a future. If his prediction came true and it all happened too quickly for them to escape, then he might never have another chance to be with Adam.

  Adam allowed the kiss, only barely responding at first, but then abruptly relaxing into it, opening his mouth to Zach. He ran a hand through Zach’s hair—which felt as if it must be standing out from his head like a cartoon of a man suffering a fright—then pulled him closer, turning onto his back. Zach’s cock was already hard, and desire flared in his belly, heat flushing through him, sweat breaking out. He dragged at his collar as his breathing began to speed up. So hot. He decided then. He had to take this opportunity. If they died, then he wouldn’t have missed his chance. He’d have the memory of Adam, the last man he made love to. He pawed at the covers over Adam, pulled them away clumsily. Adam wore only a pair of boxer shorts. His torso gleamed with the light sweat of sleep, bringing out his golden tan. Freckles dusted his shoulders and chest, and some soft dark blond hair covered his chest and trailed down his belly.

  Zach followed this treasure trail, marveling at the beauty of Adam’s body, running his fingers down the middle of Adam’s chest, down to his flat and taut belly, swirling around his navel and making Adam shiver. His skin roughened with goose bumps, and as if they were contagious, they rose on Zach’s skin too, sweeping up his arm and down his back. That such a man should want him made Zach shake his head in wonder. He reached the waistband of the shorts and paused. Adam was responding to the kisses, but would it be presumptuous for Zach to slip his hand into the shorts? He couldn’t be sure Adam had forgiven him for last night yet or had given Zach permission to touch him so intimately.

  So he compromised. Instead of slipping his hand inside, he rested it on the outside, cupping it around the stiffening cock, feeling it shifting and growing through the fabric.