by S. D. Perry
“Jim, really, it’s very cozy. Anyway, you’re lucky to have your own quarters, with the transporter so close. Compared to the lab units, this is luxury.”
“I’m not complaining.” He smiled down at her. “Not today, anyway.”
She turned her face toward his chest, kissing him at the base of his throat before resting her head again. A shiver ran across his shoulders, and he held her tighter.
“I was worried about you, when I saw the footage of that protest,” he said. “The organizer, Kent, the one who confronted you? I had a run-in with him at the Federation summit. Went head to head with him at one of the panels.”
Carol pushed away, propped herself on one elbow to look at him. “That’s quite a coincidence.”
“Yes, I thought so. I pulled up his file when I realized it was the same Kent. He’s been an activist for years on Earth, just moved to Mars recently. A passionate person, I gathered, very bright, very focused. It’s too bad someone with his enthusiasm and drive couldn’t have found an interest in something a little more worthwhile. Starfleet, maybe.”
“Maybe,” she said. They both smiled, but Jim felt that distance once more, saw it in her eyes as she looked away.
He went on. “His ongoing tirade against science appears to be personal. His wife died of some technology-inspired disease twenty years ago, something I wasn’t familiar with. You would probably know more about it, something that developed out of resistant bacillus. There’s a treatment for it, now, but not when it first cropped up.”
“Resistant?” Carol knit her brows. “From the overuse of sterilizing agents, maybe. That explains his agenda.” She looked stricken.
Jim pushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “It is sad, but I think people ought to rise above their personal tragedies, have a look at the bigger picture. It’s not healthy to remain so focused on your own problems that you forget everything else.”
Carol let her head slip back onto his shoulder. “I said something to him.” Her voice was low; she was not smiling now.
“I said a lot of things to him.” He chuckled.
“No, I ? I said something I shouldn’t have. I lost my temper, I shouted at him that he’d never lost anything, never sacrificed anything.” She shook her head. “I didn’t know about his wife.”
“How could you have?” Jim kissed her hair. “You can’t blame yourself for getting upset when someone provokes you. He was obviously looking for a fight, and he got one.”
“But he wasn’t confrontational, he just wanted to talk to me. I wouldn’t listen.”
“Carol. Whatever Thaddeus Kent wanted to say to you was probably as relevant as that Kraden rep’s worries about the dust storm. You’re a scientist; you know you don’t need to be told about your own research.”
Carol sighed. “I could have handled it better.”
Jim held her closer. “You handled it fine. You’re under a lot of pressure right now, a lot of stress; you don’t need anything else to worry about. Let it go. Let it go, and just ? just be here with me, now.”
She responded by clinging to him tightly. He tilted her face to his, to kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, until he felt the sad resistance in her begin to ease, felt her respond in kind. He moved his thoughts aside and shifted his focus and concentration to their kiss, to the thrill of her bare skin against his. He wanted to make as much of this night as he could, wanted to remember it forever, aware that it might be the last they would ever have.
Carol transported back to the lab in the early hours, her feelings too complicated to sort through. She tried not to think at all as she headed to her quarters, the sound of her footsteps absorbed by the dark silence of the halls, but it was impossible to keep her mind still.
I had the chance, she thought, moving past the main lab, slightly disgusted with herself, with her cowardice, but it had been so good to be in his arms, to pretend for just a few moments that nothing had changed—
“Carol?”
Leila Kalomi stood in the lab’s entrance, her slender form in silhouette.
Carol pulled her jacket closer, tucked her hair behind her ears. She’d fallen asleep curled up next to Jim and hadn’t bothered to inspect herself before transporting back; she probably looked a fright. “Leila? What are you doing up so early?”
“Making tea,” Leila said. “Would you like some?”
Carol started to decline. She needed sleep, more than the few hours she’d had in Jim’s bed, but she found herself following Leila back into the lab, reluctant to return to her troubled self-analysis. She doubted she would be able to sleep more, anyway. The final experiment was too close, the storm all but past.
Leila actually brewed the tea herself, using hot water from the replicator and a blend of dried jasmine and some other flowers that she’d brought from Earth. She poured each of them a cup, explaining that making tea was a morning ritual for her, one she’d developed in her undergrad days. Carol accepted a cup of the delicately scented stuff and sat on one of the lab’s padded chairs, Leila across from her.
Carol sipped the tea, smiled. “It’s very good,” she said. “I’m impressed. I usually can’t even find the food slot cards at this hour.”
“I’m a morning person, I suppose,” Leila said. “I’m not usually up this early, but the time change has me a bit off my schedule.”
Carol nodded. “I’m never up this early, if I can help it. More likely to be up this late.”
“Like Adam,” Leila said. “My ? my ex-boyfriend was a night owl.”
Carol smiled. “And your new beau? Is he an early riser?”
Leila’s own smile was slow and secret. “I don’t know yet. I would imagine so. He strikes me as the type.”
Carol sipped more tea, wondered if Jim had a “type.” He was so adaptable, adjusting his sleep patterns to whatever his shift demanded.
“May I ask, are you just going to bed?” Leila asked.
Carol hesitated, not sure what to say, but decided there was no reason to hide the truth. It had been Leila’s inspired words about love’s simplicity that had sent her running off to see Jim in the first place.
“Sort of,” she said. “I’ve been to bed already, but not mine and not to sleep. I just got back.”
“Oh, I see.” Leila seemed both amused and flustered at once, a charming combination. “Well. I hope it was ? satisfactory?”
Carol laughed. “Yes, it was. At least ?”
At least what? The sensual, sexual aspect had been more than satisfactory, as it always had been with Jim, but was she glad she had gone to him, considering everything else? The things she hadn’t said, the one thing that weighed so heavily upon her now? She thought of how safe she’d felt with him, thought of the love in his tone, in his eyes and manner as he’d touched and held her. It had made her believe that everything was going to turn out right, and if that was false, she had still believed it for a little while. That time had been a gift.
“It was,” she said again, feeling a sudden kinship to the shy young botanist. “It was wonderful. Being with someone you really care for, knowing that he loves you—how could it be anything else?”
“I’m sure,” Leila said. “It used to be that way for us—for Adam and me, I mean—but it’s been a long time.”
“Not much longer for you, though,” Carol half asked, curious about Leila’s situation. She didn’t want to pry, but Leila obviously had a bad case for her “early riser.”
Leila flushed prettily, glanced away. “Perhaps,” she said. “I don’t think he’s very experienced in that area ? Which is fine, I’m not, either—but it’s hard for me to imagine how we’ll get from where we are now to ? to there.”
Carol smiled. “It will happen in its own time.”
“I woke up this morning thinking of him and couldn’t get back to sleep.” Leila ran a finger around the rim of her cup. “He’s ? he’s very smart, and sensitive, and quite handsome. Strong. He’s tall.”
“Tall is good,” Carol encourag
ed.
“We only met recently, but I feel I’ve known him for a long time,” Leila said. “The way he listens to what I say, the way he looks at me ? Perhaps he’s that way with everyone, but I don’t think so. He makes me feel special. Important. Adam wasn’t like that, he—”
She broke off, shook her head. “He’s nothing like Adam. There’s something about him. I sense in him all sorts of things that he probably doesn’t acknowledge himself. Loneliness. A need to be held and comforted ? but also a need to protect, to nurture and care for another. Maybe I’m projecting a bit, but I know I’m right, too. I know if he’ll only let me in, I can make him happy.”
She laughed a little, shook her head. “Listen to me. I sound about fifteen, with my first crush. I know everything, and I’m not sure about anything.”
Carol laughed with her but also felt a twinge of concern. The young woman was head over heels, and it didn’t necessarily sound mutual. She considered giving some unsolicited advice, about exercising caution in affairs of the heart, but realized in the same instant how entirely useless that would be.
Consider the source, she thought, and laughed again.
“We’re sailing the same ship,” Carol said.
“But you said ? didn’t you say he loves you?” Leila asked.
“He does. But there are other considerations. We have different ? well, he’s Starfleet, for one thing. An officer.”
Leila lit up. “Really? So is my friend. Sciences.”
“Jim’s in command. And he’ll be a captain soon enough, and he wants to go DS long term, for exploration. I don’t.”
“Ah,” Leila said. “That’s too bad. I don’t mind traveling. I’d go with my officer, if he’d have me. I don’t think you have to enlist in Starfleet to travel on one of their ships. They have advisory contracts in the sciences. And there are always station postings ?”
“But is that the life you want?” Carol asked. Leila seemed so certain, so sure of herself. “What about your career? A home?”
Leila sipped her tea, her expression thoughtful. “What I want is to be happy,” she said finally. “And for me, that means making a connection. Having a real intimacy with someone. I think we could have that together, if he’s willing. The rest would fall into place.”
It sounded so natural, so unaffected and easy. Carol’s own reasons for keeping the pregnancy a secret from Jim, for even considering their breakup suddenly seemed almost petty.
“You said he loves you,” Leila said. “Do you love him?”
That was the question, wasn’t it? Carol didn’t rush to answer, considering the question for the millionth time. She loved Jim’s smile, his charm. She loved his wholehearted commitment to everything he did. He had a sense of humor, could actually be quite funny at times, but the core of Jim was his heart: he was so sincere, so serious about wanting to do the right thing, always. He was a good man, a strong, responsible, caring man.
“I suppose I do,” she said.
“You should tell him, then,” Leila said.
“Tell him—” Carol almost said about the baby before she realized that Leila couldn’t possibly know.
Leila nodded. “It might make him change his mind about things, if he knows the truth. Wouldn’t it be awful if he went his own way without knowing? Without being able to make an informed decision? If he knows that you love him, he might ?”
She trailed off, a faint smile playing across her lips. “I’m one to talk. I haven’t yet worked up the courage to tell my officer how I feel. I’m afraid that he’ll ? that he won’t be receptive.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Carol said.
“He’s grown quite used to being alone, I think,” Leila said. “I don’t know if he can accept that there’s an alternative. Not for him.”
“Then that would be his great loss.” Carol’s tone was gentle. “And you’re right about telling the truth. Keeping secrets is a little like lying to yourself, wishing for things to be a certain way rather than accepting how they actually are.”
Even as she said it, she knew that the decision was made. She would tell Jim about the baby, and as soon as possible. It would change everything for him, but that was only fair, wasn’t it?
Leila’s smile was a bit sad, but resolved. “It’s better to know, isn’t it?”
“I think so. I hope so,” Carol said.
They finished their tea, both thoughtful and silent as the dusky Martian sky lightened outside, final streamers of swirling dust settling to the ground. The storm was over. The day of Inception was at hand.
Ten
Leila elbowed past Troy Verne, not bothering to smile at him as she seated herself at the counter, picking up the partly assembled force field density monitor. She didn’t want to be rude, but his constant presence was an annoyance, especially for Carol. Leila glanced over at the other woman, feeling almost protective of her after their earlier talk. Carol looked frazzled, her eyes shadowed with concern and lack of sleep. Leila wished she could say something reassuring, something that would allay Carol’s fears about both the experiment and her uncertainty over her own Starfleet officer, but with the rest of the team present, Leila didn’t want to bring up anything personal. It wouldn’t be appropriate.
Of course, facts and figures were what she needed to be focused on for the next few hours, anyway. She and Alison Simhbib had set up their equipment for the second phase of the experiment, and now Leila was trying to lend a hand to the rest of the team without getting too much in the way. The last thing they needed in the unfamiliar laboratory was another Troy Verne. Kraden’s lab was much larger than the one at Carol’s university, but it was laid out differently, in a corridor fashion, making it difficult to pass someone without at least grazing your hip on someone else’s thigh. Verne had taken to pacing up and down the rows of instruments and monitors, and Carol was becoming visibly agitated with him.
“So, when’s the show going to be over?” Verne asked. He’d asked some version of the same question at least five times in the last hour.
Carol did not look up from the tricorder she was calibrating, with Eric’s help. He was one of her tech grad students. “The ‘show’ hasn’t begun, yet,” she said.
“Right, I understand. I just don’t want to waste any time getting my report out. Kraden’s standing by, you know. This could be big for us.”
Big for you,you mean, Leila thought. It wasn’t a kind thought, but Verne brought it out in her. Ever since the success of their initial test back on Earth, the Kraden rep had been overly eager to involve himself, to act as if he were actually part of their team.
Mac, who had exhibited more patience with Verne than anyone else, motioned for him to sit down. “There’s nothing to see yet. Why don’t you have a seat while we finish setting up? Things will start happening before too long.”
Verne lit on a creaky stool, fidgeting noisily. Leila returned her attention to her work, fitting together the components of the small, square gauge that would measure the force field’s relative tolerance while the experiment progressed. This instrument relied on a slender magnetic sensor that needed to be set in place with a tiny clamp. The gauge would not tolerate transport with the sensor in place, and Dachmes had complained about having to reassemble it. He had asked Leila to do it for him, remarking on the steadiness of her hands, but she was having difficulty. A tiny green light would glow once the sensor was placed correctly, but it remained dim.
Almost got it—almost—there!
The light stayed off. Leila suddenly found that the rhythmic protest of Verne’s stool, responding to his bouncing feet, had become impossible to ignore.
“Would you mind?” Leila asked, struggling to keep her tone pleasant. “Mister Verne? Could you ? ?”
Verne looked at her, his feet still bouncing against the base of the stool.
“That’s very distracting, Mister Verne,” Carol said sharply. “We’re trying to work.”
Verne stopped, a petulant look on his face. A mom
ent later, Leila finally got the sensor placed. She let out a sigh, smiling as the tiny green light flickered on.
“Good work,” Dachmes said. It seemed he’d been watching her. He leaned across the counter and took the device, began linking it to the mainframe.
“Thank you, Leila,” he added, looking back up at her, meeting her gaze directly for a beat. He dropped his own quickly, almost shyly.
Leila nodded and smiled, wondering if he might be trying to flirt with her. He’d mostly kept to himself in the short time since they’d joined Carol’s team, but he had tried a few times to initiate conversation with her and had a particular way of looking at her that suggested ? something. She wasn’t sure, and didn’t want to assume anything, but she wouldn’t be surprised to learn he had some interest.