“I don’t know.” She slapped her gloves against her palm. “This pisses me off.”
A call beeped on screen. Shields turned and answered. “Aaron, how’s it going? Anderson didn’t shoot you in the ass, too, did he?”
The older man’s normally ruddy face was ashen. “I saw it happen. Ellen and I were taking electrical field measurements, standard stuff, and documented the change in electronic static. I didn’t realize what it was until it was too late. I don’t know what the hell he was thinking. Then he lined up…”
“You’re saying it was intentional?” Shields’ eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened.
“There’s no other explanation. Are you guys all right? Need to come aboard?”
“We’re fine. Annalina patched us up.”
“We sleep with communications open, so shout if you need anything. We’ll stay close. You sure you’re all right? You took a hell of a hit, but you look okay from the outside.”
“Thanks, Aaron. So far, so good. I’ll keep you posted on our status. You’re going to want to talk to the admirals,” Shields added.
“They’re pinging me now. I thought this was a peacetime mission. I wasn’t in the mindset for this kind of bullshit.”
“I hear ya. I’m out, but let me know if you have any new data.” Shields closed the screen down. “What the hell is Anderson up to?”
Annalina’s stomach tightened in disgust. “I’m going to go check the panel. If it’s cooled enough, I’ll get to work tonight.”
“I’m going to be here a while, running diagnostics.”
She strode away, thankful for an excuse to be alone. Anderson…he could be a traitor. If she accepted the evidence at face value, he’d tried to hurt her and Shields. He’d hit the right spot to give them major problems. Without Shields’ quick thinking, the electrical blast could have caused a chain reaction and disabled their ship.
What would have happened then? She knelt at the open panel and tossed aside the blankets. The smoke and heat were long gone, leaving melted wires and plastic. She pulled out fresh wires and her cutting tool. As she methodically cut away the singed metal, possibilities ran wild. If their ship had been taken out, they’d have been towed to Mars. At that point, they’d have either headed to earth or boarded one of the other ships. The limited space would have guaranteed they couldn’t transfer all their equipment, so there would have been no point continuing on to Jupiter.
End of the day…they would have been sent to Mars.
Footfalls followed by Shields’ boots stopping in the line of her sight brought her out of her thoughts.
He’d lasted longer than she’d anticipated. “I still can’t figure out why the little weasel was gunning for us. Did you break his heart or what? Like, in public? In front of his mother or some shit?”
“No. I told you. He broke up with me and had a date within a week. I wasn’t worth his time.” She was proud she kept her tone so even. She hadn’t even told Missy about Anderson’s most cutting remark.
“Did he say that?”
She swallowed, wishing she had less pride. “Yeah.”
“Fucker. All right, so might not be you.”
“It’s not me.” She reached toward him. “Screwdriver.”
He passed it to her, and she secured the new lines.
“Then what the hell was he thinking?”
“You’re looking for an emotional reason,” Annalina said, thankful to have something else to focus on. “Which is logical because you are an emotion-led man. Anderson is much more calculating and goal driven. I think this is about you.”
“Me? What did I do to the guy? Besides steal his first mate and send him into outer space with a cheerleader?”
“Put it together, Shields. If we’d been disabled, we would have been sent to Mars. You would have been without a ship, without a plan, and on Mars Colony. At their mercy. I need an end guard.”
The exact piece she needed landed in her palm.
“Tricky. I didn’t see that logic at all. I’m glad you’re watching my ass.”
She liked his ass a lot more than she should have and didn’t like thinking about someone gunning for it.
“Do you have anyone on Mars who likes you?” Annalina asked.
Silence met her question for far too long. She finished the wiring and slid out to find Shields rubbing his face.
She patted his foot. “I’ll take that as a no.”
He laughed. “Believe it or not, I do have a few friends. Just not on Mars. Japan? Yes. Germany? You bet.”
“Our nearest port is Mars.”
He pushed to his feet and offered her a hand. She should have spurned his assistance, and jumped up on her own. That’s what she would have done if she still needed the personal and professional distance. Instead, she clasped his fingers and accepted the lift. The day had stretched on longer than she’d anticipated and fatigue taken hold. She bit back a yawn. Maybe she needed to get in front of her mood light a little longer in the mornings.
“We should return to 100 percent power tomorrow,” Annalina said. “Is it all right if I head to my room?”
“Yeah. I’ll do a final diagnostic. And then I’ll be in mine. Need a shower?” His eyebrow arched, but weariness showed on his face.
“Not tonight, but thanks.”
She picked up her bag and dragged her feet to her room. If they were a couple, they’d decompress together. If not through sex, then with a nice cuddle before sleeping wrapped in each other’s arms. If they were a couple, she’d have followed him to the bridge and made sure he was okay. She’d have been touching him every few seconds to reassure herself he was in one piece after such a huge ordeal. If.
Annalina closed herself in her quiet, dim space alone. There were no “ifs,” because they were not a couple.
Chapter Ten
With a week to go until they reached the Jupiter moon, the two remaining ships traveled on without another hitch. Four months had flown by, the new trajectory Shields plotted even more efficient than they’d anticipated. Headquarters suggested calling the route the Albright Path.
Shields tapped his pencil against his notebook. No number of accolades would get them to the Jup moon quicker. The remaining distance left him plenty of time to replay Anderson’s attack in his mind. There had to be an explanation, and he would figure it out.
Since the investigation had resulted in Anderson’s ship being docked and the captain taken into custody, there’d been no other trouble. Shields felt bad for Amy. In a different scenario, she’d have been been the one to make it to the Jupiter moon.
It wasn’t her fault her captain was a dick. A message from Aaron popped up on the communications screen. They were coming into different gravitational pulls and needed to calibrate their equipment. Aaron—for not having a whole lot of experience—had shown his stripes this trip. Shields would fly with him, or rather beside him, anytime. He typed a quick message to the other captain and searched out his first mate.
“Annalina?”
The night of the attack and the first few days after had been strained. Even though months had passed, she still seemed unsettled. For a minute there, he’d thought they’d connected beyond sex. But nothing emerged. She’d pulled away from him, and he’d been willing to go along with what she needed. The explosive sex should have led to them being closer outside of the shower, but a wall flew up the second they dried off.
Things between them…they weren’t as simple as either of them claimed. They might have started by scratching each other’s’ itches, but more had grown outside their slippery times. He respected her. Craved her company. Worried about her.
She wasn’t in the dining area or in the supply room. He checked the long halls, but her feet didn’t poke out from any panel as he’d come to expect. Where the hell was she?
He checked his watch, but in the late afternoon, she could be anywhere. He tapped on her door and rocked back and forth on his feet, counting seconds until they became minutes. There was no
answer. But he’d searched everywhere he could think of—she had to be in her quarters. He tapped again—harder this time—but still no answer.
“Annalina? Are you all right?” He hated to enter without permission. They had boundaries, and he wanted to respect them. She liked when he respected her.
Visions of her incapacitated with a brain aneurism rolled around in his mind and he overrode the locking mechanism and stormed in.
He froze. She was in bed, her blanket up to her chin, eyes closed.
Shields blew out a breath. Sleeping in the afternoon. It happened to most first time flyers on long expeditions. The lack of regular sunshine led to exhaustion—usually imagined. He’d have to pull out the stronger UV light and order her to spend more time in front of it. A little sun reminder would pull her out of her funk.
He hadn’t spent much time in her room, none at all lately. She always came to him, since his shower worked. They still did art together almost every night, but he hadn’t realized she painted in her own room as well. The canvases stacked near her door offered an open invitation for him to peek.
He flipped through them. A familiar physique waited on the first canvas. There he was, naked, with his clay and his eyebrows raised. Did he always look like a sarcastic ass? How far they’d come since this. The next picture was him again, this time sitting with his feet up. He still held clay, though it was the finished bowl he’d made for her. The following few paintings were universe-scapes and pictures of the star fields and comets they’d passed near Mars’ moon. Magnificent moments captured on canvas.
The last one…he frowned. He pulled it out to get a full look. Hands? Maybe?. But on the ultra-large canvas, the proportions were off. He set it down and took a step away. They were fingers—locked together with droplets of water rolling down them. One was lighter than the other. Bigger, too
How much had their relationship changed? Sometimes he thought not at all, others…something was changing. Their last eight months of intimacy offered set pictures in his mind, but only in the last few weeks had this particular scene occurred. They held hands in the water when Annalina forgot the rules, and he craved the closeness now. Once upon a time, she’d shaken him away. Lately, though, locked in orgasm, she didn’t balk if their fingers tangled together under the water. She’d captured the simple moment and made it something beautiful.
They were locked into promises to keep their relationship limited and casual. It was going to be hell to reverse their course.
Shields settled the paintings in order and turned to Annalina. Her black and brown hair had grown past her shoulders. The colors reminded him of his favorite candy shop where they mixed chocolate and caramel together to create decadent confections. She had whined it grew too quickly and made noise about cutting it. He’d mentioned once he liked it…and there it remained. Not shorn for convenience. He’d started growing a beard, but she’d wrinkled her nose when she kissed him. The five extra minutes it took to shave were nothing…and everything.
He wanted to join her in bed, to start them on a new path. But such intimacy would be met with distrust. She’d look at him with her big hazel eyes, the gold flecks sparkling, and demand to know what the hell he was doing. Amazing how much he understood the way she thought. He headed out of her room, reengaging the locks. He’d get her the mood light to help with the sleep dysfunction, and then… Hell, he needed to find a book on romance.
Chapter Eleven
Annalina rubbed her face and groaned when the glowing lights on her watch blinked. She’d laid down to rest her eyes against a blinding headache. Something so severe hadn’t caught her since she was in her late teens and had the birth control shot for the first time. The change in hormones had incapacitated her for a week—hence she’d learned she was allergic to the otherwise universally accepted inoculation. Very few had the reaction. Her doctor at the time said it was a matter of body chemistry, nothing to worry about.
Menstruation caused her a few headaches, but this was new and unwelcome. She sat up, not 100 percent, but better than when she’d cuddled down. She pressed the communication button beside her bed.
“Shields?”
“You coming for food or what?” he asked.
“Yes, I’ll be right there. My apologizes for being out of communication.” Her unit showed several attempts from him to contact her. “I had a headache and laid down thinking it would take a few minutes to ease. But that was two hours ago.”
“Not a problem. Come and eat. I’ll pull out whatever fruit we have. It might help your brain.”
She smiled before brushing her teeth. He’d gotten better at nurturing, much better. Not that she needed him to, but his thoughtfulness made her feel better. Everything about him…damn it, why had she said she was so against a real relationship? What were her reasons again?
He was immature. She was too focused on her career. They both had goals better attained while unattached. Relationships led to squabbles that didn’t go well on ship.
Annalina pulled a brush through her hair and reached for a familiar tie to keep it out of her face, but hesitated. Shields liked her long locks, and damn it she loved them, too. The multitude of colors on one head, growing naturally, was a testimony of her heritage. The Italian, African, Japanese, all right there in her blood, in her face, but especially on top of her head. Wearing it short started when she’d enrolled in flying school. Short kept it out of her face. Wearing it in a tie made sense if she had it long. She left her hair down and hurried from the bathroom before she changed her mind.
In the dining room, two food trays already waited, a large bowl of dried peaches floating in warm water between them. Shields was in his spot, poking the fruit and frowning at it.
“This shit is weak. They might not help. This is why we need an oven on these trips. I’m sure we could research how to bake with these and make…hell, I don’t know. A cobbler? That’s food, right?”
“Or a shoemaker.” She sat in the empty seat. “I’m sorry about this afternoon.”
“I pulled out the larger mood light. You need to do an hour every morning in front of it.” He handed her a glass of water. “And drink more fluids.”
“I’m not having seasonal affect. I had a headache.” She drank the water because she wanted to, not because he had told her. “It’s…hormonal. I sometimes deal with it.”
He frowned. “We’ve been together seven months, and this is the first time it’s happened. That lends more to seasonal affect than hormones. Unless something changed?”
She shrugged. “Nothing has changed as far as I know. At three o’clock, my head started pounding, so I laid down.”
“Are you better now?”
She picked at the steamed chicken and rice on her plate, though the food didn’t match the scent of the room. “Did you cook something else?”
His cheeks turned pink. “I had beef curry out, but then you said you had a headache. So I grabbed something milder.”
Annalina took a bite, and kept her eyes on her plate. This was serious and bigger than she’d thought. He’d changed in the past seven months. Legitimate, thoughtful changes. She’d changed as well. They were in so much trouble.
They ate in silence, Shields every so often poking at the bowl of rehydrating fruit. She didn’t like peaches, but couldn’t for the life of her say so. Her headache eased a bit after eating, but it still lingered enough to make going to bed sound good. Even after a few hours of sleep…more sleep would be great.
“I’ll start the mood light in the morning,” Annalina said. “Thanks for getting it out.”
“No problem. I hope it helps. We can conference call with the doctors on Earth if you need to. There is a full medication and diagnostic kit on board. I know the basic stuff, but if it’s something…female, that’s not so basic to me.” He waved her away when she started tidying up. “I got this. Your eyes are all pinched. Go lie down again.”
Her finger tips flew to her face. Sure enough deep crow’s feet marred the sides.
“I feel better, but want to sleep the rest of this off.”
“Not a problem. I will set the light up in here. One hour every morning in front of the light. Within two to four days you should be your normal self. If not, we consult with Earth doctors.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He paused in cleaning long enough to look at her. He’d been worried through dinner, and it had shown in his gentle tone and attention to detail. Now, he smiled. “I like when you call me sir. It sounds…kinky.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Such a pervert. I’ll be in my quarters if anything comes up.”
She spun and strode away, but not before he muttered. “Oh, something is coming up all right.”
Chapter Twelve
She was sleeping again. Shields chewed his thumbnail, something he hadn’t done since his teens. He’d lost a lot of money at poker before he’d learned to control his nervous tell. It didn’t matter now. After five days of light therapy, Annalina should have been feeling at least somewhat better. But, if anything, she was worse. She slept late, her eyes were always pinched, and whenever he suggested they spend time together, she found a reason to refuse. It wasn’t him. It was her. She was sick.
He checked his watch again for the time and her position—to find her still in her room. She’d eaten half her energy bar at lunch. He’d be the first to admit he was getting tired of them, but when he’d playfully ordered her to eat more, she’d set it down and walked away. Whatever had her in its clutches was starting to scare her, too. She was quieter, accepting…he didn’t like it.
He pulled up the communications to Earth. They’d enjoyed minimal interruption since the Anderson incident, and so far, they’d been able to avoid medical intervention. He typed in the code for Dr. Missy.
The com beeped and beeped again. Several long minutes passing before the physician appeared— frazzled and disheveled.
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