by Peter David
She noticed Wexler just standing in the doorway, staring at her oddly.
“You’re letting in the bugs. Close the door,” she said. He stepped in and did as she said, but there was still something in his face that was bothering her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“You kissed me on the cheek,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow. “So?”
“So…I was puckering.”
“You were puckering.”
“Yes.”
“Your mouth was doing this,” and she smooshed her lips together.
“Not quite that grotesquely, but yes.”
“So fine. Come here and I’ll kiss you on the mouth. I’ll kiss you anywhere you want if it’ll make you happy.”
“That’s hardly the point.”
“Then what is?” she said, impatience rising.
“The point is that kissing me ‘anywhere’ used to make you happy.”
“Used to?” She sat up, shaking her head in bewilderment. “Wex, what the hell are you talking about? I mean, where are you going with this? What are you saying, that I haven’t been affectionate enough lately?”
“No, I wasn’t saying that…” Then he hesitated and said, “Although, now that you mention it…”
“Oh, for God’s sake. Fine. You want affection? C’mere, big boy. Where do you want it? Right here, maybe?” and she thrust her hips toward the ceiling as if she’d been jolted with electricity. Then she turned on the couch and pointed at the rug. “Or maybe there. On top of that big old allegedly synthetic bear rug.”
“You know what?” said Wexler. “We’re not going to discuss this now, because you’re being totally unreasonable about this.”
“About what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No, you don’t, and that’s the upsetting thing, Betty—”
“Stop it!”
He was taken aback by the vehemence in her tone. “Stop what?”
“Betty! I can’t stand it anymore! Stop calling me Betty! I hate it when you call me Betty!”
“I…” Wexler looked as if he’d been slammed in the face with a hammer, standing there with a decidedly stupid expression. “I thought it was my special nickname for you that you liked.”
“Well, you’re right about the first half. But the liking it part? No.”
“I’m sorry, Liz…”
“Elizabeth, okay? I like my name. I like all the syllables. Not Betty. Not Liz, not Lizzy, not Eliza or Liza or Betty or Betsy or Elly or anything else, just…Elizabeth. Okay? Or Shelby. When we start second year in school, Shelby’s fine, too.”
Slowly he nodded and, his voice very, very cool, he said, “All right, Elizabeth. Thank you for setting me straight.”
“Ohhhh,” she moaned, and sagged back down onto the couch, rubbing the sides of her forehead. “Now you’re all mad at me.”
“No. No, I’m not all mad at you. I’m just wondering about the timing of this outburst.”
“The timing?” She stared up at him. “I’m not following.”
“Ever since we finished our first year…actually, ever since survival training…you’ve been distant.”
“I’ve spent just as much time with you as ever.”
“I’m not talking about physical distance,” he said. “I mean emotional. I feel like, even when you’re with me…you’re not.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think you know what it means.”
“No, Wex, I don’t,” she said impatiently. “You could tell I don’t know what it means by the way I said, ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Not a lot of gray area in the question. I don’t know what you’re referring to, but I do know it’s beginning to bug the hell out of me.”
“Calhoun,” Wexler said.
“And there we go again!” Shelby practically shouted. On her feet, she paced back and forth, taking care to step over the bear rug. “You can’t get your mind off him! You keep accusing me of having feelings for him! Feelings stronger than what I have for you! Yes, I’m grateful he saved my life, and no, I don’t resent you for the fact that you ran to get help rather than just dive down after me! You keep describing it as cowardice, but I call it smart thinking! You slipped away by luck! If you’d gone back down on your own, that thing would probably have gotten both of us, and might then have preyed on others! Plus the others were there to haul Mac and me to safety, plus the med tech was on the scene, none of which would have happened if you hadn’t shown some basic common sense! What Calhoun did was incredibly dangerous, and he risked his life, and he got away with it because he was lucky. Which isn’t to say I’m not grateful, but my God, you’ve got to stop bringing up his name every time—”
“Calhoun,” he said again.
The insistent tone of his voice brought her up short. In exasperation, she said, “Look, are you repeating it now just to irritate me? Because—”
“No, I’m repeating it because I’m seeing him outside the window.”
“What?”
“He’s. Outside. The window.”
Shelby turned and stared where Wexler was looking. Sure enough, there was Calhoun, striding back and forth at the edge of the forest. He seemed to have no idea what to do with his hands. They kept twitching, moving spasmodically, and he was muttering to himself. He was dressed in what Shelby could only think were Xenexian garments. Loose-fitting, rough-hewn. She also noticed that, in the days since the first year of school had ended, he had stopped shaving. His beard was coming in fast and thick, somewhat darker than the hair on his head. She wondered if it made him feel more in touch somehow with his roots.
“What’s he doing out there?” she asked.
“I’ve no clue. How did he even know where we were?”
“Well…I suppose I told him.”
He turned to her. “You told him?”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware it was supposed to be a state secret,” she said testily. “Next time you might want to alert me to that.”
“It wasn’t a…never mind.” He continued watching Calhoun. “This is ridiculous. He’s come all the way up here. Why doesn’t he just come and knock on the door?”
“Why don’t you go and open it and invite him in?”
“All right.”
He walked over to the door, nearly bumping his face on it before remembering that he actually had to open it with his hands. It was the old-fashioned kind, in keeping with the entire retro look of the cabin. He pulled open the door and stepped out, and Calhoun froze in place, like a rummaging animal caught out searching through trash.
“This is a surprise,” said Wexler, and then added, “Actually, on second thought, it’s somewhat not.”
Calhoun took a deep breath, let it out, and then pointed at Wexler and said, “By the laws and traditions of Xenex, I challenge you for the woman.”
Standing just inside the cabin, Shelby heard that and reacted in the only way she could: with a loud guffaw. She stepped out where Calhoun could see her and said, “I beg your pardon?”
“I have issued a challenge,” Calhoun said stoically. It was astonishing. He could not have been more serious. “A challenge in keeping with the laws and—”
“Traditions of Xenex, yes, I understand that, mate,” Wexler said. “I hate to point it out to you, though, that this is not Xenex. Your laws and traditions don’t mean a great deal here.”
“They do to me.”
“But not to me,” and he nodded toward Shelby, “and I daresay not to Elizabeth as well. Isn’t that right, Elizabeth?”
She wasn’t saying anything. She was too busy grinning.
“Elizabeth?” He looked at her, appalled. “Oh, Elizabeth, honestly now.”
“Oh, Wex, where’s your sense of humor?” she said, punching him lightly on the arm. “I mean, it’s almost fascinating. We’re seeing here an actual instance of alien behavior steeped in ancient customs. The kind of thing we’ve only read about until now.”
“Yes,
but the nice thing about reading about it is that it doesn’t try to attack you.” He glanced back at Calhoun. “I am correct in that, am I not? That this entire ‘challenge’ would involve some measure of attacking?”
“Hand-to-hand combat is the traditional means, yes,” said Calhoun. He didn’t look any less resolute.
“Bugger that. Elizabeth, tell him you’re not amused.”
“Well, I am. A little. It’s…kind of sweet.”
“Sweet? He’s come all the way here threatening to pummel me! I should call the…” He shouted to Calhoun, “I’ll call the authorities! That’s what I’ll do! You’ve lost it, Calhoun! You’ve gone around the bleeding bend!”
“Oh, is that how you’d respond to a challenge for the woman you say you love?” demanded Calhoun. “By hiding behind others to defend you?”
“Too right! I’m on the command track, Calhoun! If some alien git tries to get physical with me, I beam down a security team and have them beat the snot out of him for me! That’s how it’s done!”
“That’s not how I do it. That’s not how a real man does it.”
“And is that the measure of a real man, then?” demanded Wexler. “His willingness to subject himself to brutality?”
“No. It’s the willingness to risk everything for someone he loves.”
Shelby’s breath caught in her throat. The words had been said, and Calhoun looked at her with defiance, as if daring her to laugh again. “Yes. Someone I love. I can’t take it anymore, Elizabeth,” and rather than being strident, his voice took on an almost plaintive tone. “You’re all I think about. All I dream about. When I spend time with you, I never want it to end, and when you are gone, I can only think about the next time I’ll see you again. I can’t…” He paused, his voice catching slightly, and then he continued, “I can’t promise what will happen next. Life is too unexpected, too filled with twists and turns we’d never anticipate. All I can tell you is that right here, right now, I need to make you mine or I’ll…”
“Or you’ll what?” said Wexler, making no effort to keep the sarcasm from his voice. “Or you’ll die?”
“No. But living won’t mean anything.”
He had said it so softly that Shelby had almost missed it. Almost as if he were ashamed for having said it, Calhoun drew himself up straight, squared his shoulders, and fixed his attention upon Wexler once more. “I’m waiting for your answer.”
“My answer? My answer is that you’re a complete prat.”
Calhoun looked uncertainly at Wexler. “Thank you,” he said cautiously. “But I’m not interested in idle flattery.”
“Oh, for God’s…” He turned to Shelby and said, “Would you tell him, please? Tell him that you’re not my property, to give over to him or be taken in some pathetic show of force?”
“He’s right, Mac,” she said slowly.
“Thank the Lord,” sighed Wexler.
“But I get what you’re trying to do.”
“You do?” Wexler couldn’t quite believe it. “Well, then explain it to me, if you’d be so kind.”
“Well, it’s pretty obvious.” She walked slowly toward Calhoun. “Mac here is trying to define the world…control it…on his own terms. But it doesn’t work quite that way, Mac. You have to meet the world on its own terms.”
“The world’s terms are too confusing,” said Calhoun. He was watching her steadily, his gaze unwavering. It was as if he’d forgotten Wexler entirely. “I need to make the world understand…to make you understand…to make myself understand…”
“Elizabeth, get away from him! Right now!”
Shelby stopped where she was and regarded Wexler as if he had lost his mind. “You’re telling me what to do? After you were just lecturing Calhoun on how I’m not someone’s property? Where do you get off…?”
“Oh, well that’s marvelous, innit?” Wexler demanded. He was getting more and more worked up, looking as if he were about to explode. “Calhoun shows up uninvited, demands to have a throwdown so he can…I don’t know, whack you on the head with his cave club and drag you away somewhere. And you find the whole thing utterly charming. I tell you to keep your distance from him because I think he’s totally around the bleeding bend, and therefore dangerous, and you react as if I’m a thoughtless brute!”
“I’m just saying…”
“No,” he said abruptly. “No, it’s pretty bloody obvious what you’re saying, except you’re not saying it. So I’m going to say it for you.”
Without a word he pivoted and stomped back into the cabin, leaving Shelby and Calhoun staring blankly at one another. Shelby shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Calhoun, bereft of the person he was challenging, likewise looked a bit disconcerted.
“You had it all worked out in your head, didn’t you?” she said finally. “You were sure that he was going to react a certain way, and you were going to do something, and I was going to do something else, and it all just came together perfectly in your mind’s-eye scenario. Right?”
“Something like that,” he admitted.
“And how did you and I wind up?”
“Together. Naked. Making love. Drinking in each other’s soul.”
“That…” She felt a slight stinging in her cheeks and smiled at her own embarrassment. Here she thought she was a modern woman, and yet with a few words he was able to make her completely flustered. “That’s very sweet.” Then she considered it further and amended, “Or actually somewhat evocative of a horror novel, depending how you choose to interpret it. Listen…Mac…”
“Do you believe in predestination, Elizabeth?” he asked abruptly, with an urgency that caught her off guard. “Do you believe in something being meant to be?”
She paused, and then said, “I think there are certain…tendencies…that bring mankind inevitably in particular directions. But—”
“That’s not what I meant, and I think you know that. Elizabeth…” He took a deep breath as if about to fling himself off a cliff. “I’ve mentioned how I was out in the desert. About how I survived.”
“Yes.”
“What I’ve never mentioned is that one of the main reasons I survived was because of you.”
Shelby shook her head, not quite comprehending. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I knew that you were going to be in my future. I didn’t…I don’t…know in what capacity. How long we’ll be together, or anything like that. But I just…just knew.”
“Mac,” she said with an uneasy laugh, “that was before we met. How can you possibly…”
“I can’t possibly. It’s impossible.” He reached out, took one of her hands in both of his, and pressed it tightly. She felt as if a small charge of electricity were flowing into her, and her breath caught, and her eyes widened. “And I want to explore those impossibilities with you.”
“But…Wex…”
“You don’t love him. You’re comfortable with him,” Calhoun said tightly. “Is that what you want from your life? Comfort? Is that the ultimate goal of a future Starfleet officer?”
“You’re oversimplifying it.”
“And you’re overcomplicating it. It’s…”
A throat cleared loudly behind them. They turned and saw Wexler standing some feet away, holding his bags. They’d been hurriedly packed. His face was inscrutable. “I’m leaving now,” he said loudly.
“What?” Calhoun and Shelby chorused.
“I said I’m leaving,” he repeated. He took a step toward them, and although his voice was steady, she could tell he was forcing it to remain that way. “Understand something, Calhoun. If I thought she was mine…if I thought she was going to be with me…I would fight you. And trust me, I’ve seen you fight. I know you’d probably be able to break me in half. But I will still go head-to-head with you, and they’d have to pry my teeth off your throat. That’s…if I thought she was mine. But she’s not. I’ve come to realize that…before, I think, even she has. I despise untidiness, though. I didn’t know…where she wa
s supposed to be. So I didn’t want to walk away.” He shrugged. “Now I can.”
“Wex…” Shelby began.
But he shook his head. “No. Save it. We’re…” He smiled, and it also was forced, but not as much. There was sadness in his eyes, but he seemed determined not to let it pull him down. “We’re adults here. Adults and future officers of the fleet. We’re going to be proud people. No harm in displaying some of that pride now. No harm in acting like officers…and gentlemen.” He bowed slightly, said, “Spend the rest of the week here if you so desire. You have enough food…although I admit I’ve copped all my personal lager. Man has to draw the line somewhere, don’t you think?”
“Yes. Yes, he does,” said Calhoun, and Shelby looked into his eyes and saw that he was deeply shamed. He hung his head and said quietly, “Wex…I…look, I handled this badly.”
“Too right you have. And you owe me, squire. And you, too,” and he pointed at Shelby. “You both owe me huge. And don’t think I won’t hesitate to collect when the time is right.” He took a deep breath, let it out, and said, “I’ll send a lift round for you end of the week. That should give you more than enough time to…whatever. Right then. Off I go. You two…at ease. Smoke ’em if you’ve got ’em.” With that final benediction, he turned and headed off into the woods and, within moments, was swallowed by the trees.
Calhoun said to Shelby, “Smoke what?”
“I’m not sure. It’s some holdover from years ago. So…”
She suddenly felt uncomfortable in her clothes, in her own skin. She smoothed her shirt, her hands moving in vague circles, and then she said to Calhoun, “Sooo…what now? I mean, you’re the one who had the grand scheme to come up here and…”
He leaned forward, took her face in his hands, and drew her lips to his. He kissed her ferociously, like a parched man hurling himself with abandon into an oasis. She was startled by it at first, and her instinct was to pull away, for she felt as if she were going to drown in him. But then she did one of the most difficult things she had ever done in her life: She surrendered to him. To it. To the passion that was sweeping over her. The world spun away and suddenly she was flying as she felt him lift her in his arms, carrying her toward the cabin.