Saving Grace

by Merry Farmer

  She buried the implications of it all, of the book itself, under the mountain of work they still had to do, just as she had buried the locked wooden box under her pile of furs and clothing in the cave she now called home. She was still too terrified of the implications of the box to open it, too distracted by the demands of the budding settlement.

  More than half of her people had already split into couples, moving into tents or other caves together in the clearing next to the orchard that Beth had found. Those that hadn’t paired up were certainly restless enough to suggest they were about to. Being alone in a virgin wilderness was a powerful aphrodisiac.

  Everyone had expected Danny to move in with her. She had expected it as well, wanted it, in spite of her growing responsibilities as leader. But she couldn’t bring herself to settle until everyone else was settled, she couldn’t choose herself when others needed her. At least Danny seemed content to wait for her. He had too much to do these days to be distracted by base instinct. People were finally starting to warm to him, talk to him, listen to him. The way he looked at her, though, left her in no doubt of his feelings.

  She brushed her complicated thoughts aside and turned a few pages of the book, scanning the huge chapter on shelters. She’d spent her whole life existing in an infrastructure that she’d taken for granted. The academic exercise was over. Shelters didn’t build themselves, animals were meant to be used and eaten, and bathing was something best done downriver from where drinking water was drawn and in pairs or small groups for protection. They had the intelligence and materials to do just about anything. What they lacked was the manpower.

  A snuffling behind her yanked her out of her thoughts. She gasped, nerves taut, and turned to peer over her shoulder. There it was. She’d been too absorbed in reading to hear the cat as it padded up the hill and out onto the cliff with her.

  It sniffed its way along the rock to the remnants of her lunch. She had wrapped the cooked fish in one of the smaller skins that Kinn had given to their group, but the cat easily pawed it open.

  Grace’s heart pounded. “Hello Scruffy.”

  She set the book down and twisted to a crouch, looking over the edge of the cliff to decide how badly she would hurt herself if she needed to jump. It was less than six feet, but the ground below was rocky.

  She turned back to the cat. “Sure, you can share my lunch.”

  The cat flopped to the ground as it munched on the morsel of fish, heedless of her. Grace had seen it a handful of times since they had first met in the river the day after the crash. It still reminded her of her childhood pet, content with its lot and secure in the knowledge that it was the finest creature around. Not once had it appeared afraid of her. It had let her approach nearer and nearer every time they met. She forced herself to relax as it was relaxing, inching closer.

  “Do you like your fish cooked?” She spoke in a soft, high voice. “I bet it’s a change from eating raw fish. I bet you eat those hamster things too. Danny keeps catching them and putting them in the baskets Carrie’s been making.”

  She crawled closer, close enough to touch the cat.

  “Yep, Danny’s got his own animal testing lab set up to make sure no one eats any bad mushrooms or poisonous flowers or berries. But you wouldn’t do that, would you, Scruffy? You already know what’s good and bad to eat. We should just watch you.”

  She settled in a crouch on the balls of her feet, a yard away from the cat, ready to bolt if she needed to. She reached out her hand. Carrie would have a heart attack if she could see her making friends with something with teeth as long as her thumb.

  “Good kitten,” she cooed as it sniffed at her hand. She let it sniff, let it catch her scent. Then she slid her hand gently to the top of its head and scratched between its ears.

  The cat lifted its chin, surprised by the touch. Its ears flickered back and it ran its nose along the underside of her arm. Grace continued to pet it, smoothing her hand along its fur. It was soft for such a large creature, just like a normal-sized cat.

  “Good kitten,” she repeated, barely above a whisper. She inched closer still. “You want to be friends, don’t you? Kittens like you are great companions where I come from. You could be one too.”

  With another flicker of its ears, Scruffy began to purr. Grace stifled a laugh deep in her throat.

  “You want to be domesticated, don’t you? Forget dogs. How about we make you a guard-cat?” She stroked her hand freely across its head and neck, giddy with the thrill of the bond they were forming. “Hunting-cat? I bet you know where all the—”

  The cat stopped purring and pulled back, ears pricking, body tense. Grace skittered away to the edge of the cliff where she’d left the book. Scruffy crouched low to the ground before turning and leaping off the side of the cliff. It scampered silently into the woods near the river.

  Moments later Grace heard the rustle of the undergrowth as someone approached. She grabbed the book and stood, searching for the source of the sound.

  Sean rounded the edge of the forest below. She let out a breath of relief when she saw him. Tense as things were between them, they were still friends.

  “Sean, I’m up here,” she called, moving to sit on the edge of the cliff.

  He glanced up and around, searching. His shoulders were bunched and his eyes bright, as though he were hunting. When he spotted Grace on the cliff, his face lit into a smile. Within seconds, that smile faded to the focus of a hunter. “What are you doing all the way out here by yourself?”

  “I’m on guard duty.”

  He huffed out a laugh. “You don’t have to do guard duty.”

  He picked his way across the rocks and shrubs at the base of the cliff to reach her, tension still pouring off him.

  “I’m doing my part.” She let her bare feet and calves hang over the edge of the cliff. “We all have to do our part, remember?”

  He smiled and shook his head as he stopped below her. “Not you. You’re doing enough already. More than enough.”

  There was an edge of command in his voice and a sharpness in his eyes as he met hers that sent an uncomfortable flutter through her. He was sizing her up, as if she was the prey. It wasn’t the first time she’d caught that look. She glanced behind her, hoping the cat was nearby.

  She cleared her throat. “I’m no different from anyone else.”

  “Yes, you are.” His smile was too friendly.

  Her cheeks went red. The forest around them was empty. They were completely alone, no one to help her deal with the one problem the book couldn’t help her to solve.

  Sean held up his arms. “Here, come down. I need to talk to you about something.”

  “About what?” She hesitated.

  “Just things.”

  She took a breath and scooted closer to the edge of the cliff, fiddling with the book to buy herself time. How much caution did she truly need with a friend she’d known for years?

  He tested his footing at the base of the cliff, motioning with his hands for her to trust him to catch her. To not trust him would cause more problems than her personal discomfort. She had no choice.

  With the book clutched against her chest, she hopped into Sean’s waiting grasp. He caught her around the waist. The book spilled from her arms. She reached for it, but Sean held her fast.

  He pressed close, staring down at her with words on the tip of his tongue. His hands splayed on her waist were firm and sure. And wrong.

  She broke away with an apologetic smile, bending to pick up the book.

  “Did Carrie tell you I was out here?” she asked over her shoulder. The rocky ground hurt her feet as she picked her way closer to the sandy riverbank.

  Sean took his time replying. He caught up to her in a few easy steps. “Yeah,” he said. “She did.”

  “Carrie really likes you, Sean. You two are compatible in so many ways.” It was better to lay her cards out now.

  “Yeah, I know,” he muttered. He was so close behind her that the words could have bee
n an intimate whisper.

  She reached the sand and turned, finding herself right back in his arms.

  “Sean….”

  “I noticed you’re still living in that cave by yourself.” He forced her to tilt her head back to look at him.

  “Yes.” She pushed away with one hand, clutching the book like a shield. “I am.”

  He let her back away from him.

  “I was surprised actually. I thought you and Danny….” His words trailed off. He took a step in pursuit of her. “And then I thought…maybe not.”

  She dodged before he could touch her again. “I can’t rush into anything like that, not when there is so much work to be done. Danny knows—”

  His hand brushed her bare arm, sending shivers of anxiety shooting through her whole body. She’d dreaded this more than any survival challenge.

  “I don’t think that’s it.” He stepped closer, plucking the book out of her hands and dropping it. “You want to know what I think?”

  Indignation caught up to her. “No, Sean, I do not want to know what you think. I can already guess. We have bigger things to think about than what you think of me and Danny. Carrie agrees with me.”

  She reached for the book. He grabbed her and forced her into an embrace.

  “Carrie’s not the one I want. She’s not the one I’m supposed to be with. You—”

  “Stop! I don’t want to hear this.”

  “Come on, Grace. You’ve been hearing it all along, I know you have. We’re compatible in every way.” He reached out to brush a tendril of hair from her face.

  She writhed in his arms, pulse pounding. “I won’t hurt my friend like that. Carrie—”

  “Carrie,” he spit out her name, letting Grace go.

  Her legs went weak with relief, but she snapped, “Yes, Carrie. She loves you.”

  “She doesn’t love me, Grace. Love is a stupid old fairy tale.”

  “How would you know? You haven’t given her a chance.”

  He crossed his arms and shook his head, laughing. “You know, for someone that everyone looks up to, you’re ridiculously naïve.”

  “I am not. I’m practical.”

  “Right. And that’s why you can’t see what’s really going on right in front of you.”

  She searched wildly around, expecting her friends to be hiding behind the nearest bush.

  Sean came after her. She raised her arms to fend him off.

  “Look, Sean, if you really care about me then you’ll save this kind of affection for Carrie and not me.”

  “Affection?” He caught her and pulled her closer, firm but still giving. “Who said anything about affection?” His mouth dipped dangerously close to hers.

  “You know what I mean,” she mumbled, unable to meet his eyes. She struggled to tug out of his grasp.

  “Say it, Grace.”

  “What?” Her eyes jumped to his, her back and shoulders prickling with fear.

  “Say what you really mean.” He jerked her closer, his arm locking firmly around her back. “Sex. That’s what you mean. And you’re right, Grace.” He brought his mouth closer, inches away from hers. She could feel his breath against her lips. “I want you, Grace. I always have. From the moment I saw you, I wanted you. The time is finally right.”

  She whimpered and turned her head. “Sean, I—” She struggled in earnest.

  He was too strong for her. He brought his mouth down over hers. She pushed against him but he only grasped her with greater force.

  He pulled her down to the sand, throwing her on her back with a thump that knocked the wind out of her. His heavy body pressed over hers. He pinned her arms at her sides.

  “No!” she growled, trying to kick out from under him. All the defensive training she’d learned on the ship flew out of her mind as panic dragged her under. Sean’s hand squeezed over her breast.

  “Aren’t we supposed to procreate?” Sean panted. “If your little geneticist friend isn’t man enough to do it then I—”

  A sharp click only feet away shocked both of them to stillness.

  Kinn stood an arm’s-length away, his crossbow pointed straight at Sean’s head, his eyes blazing with murder.

  “I thought I told you not to touch her.” His voice was dark, steady with death.

  Sean rolled off of Grace and jumped to his feet, eyes wide as if a veil had been lifted. His shoulders dropped and he held his hands up, blinking.

  “Take it easy.” He cleared his throat, shifting his glance from Kinn’s deadly stare to Grace.

  Grace stumbled to her feet and backed away from both men.

  “Did he hurt you?” Kinn growled, putting himself between her and Sean.

  “No,” she panted, pushing tousled hair out of her face.

  “I’m sorry, Grace.” Sean’s face flushed deep red, as if he was awakening from a bad dream. His eyes flickered from her to Kinn. “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Just go, Sean,” she snapped, staring at the ground and wiping the sweat that beaded on her face with the back of her shaking hand. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  Sean hesitated, perched on the balls of his feet, jaw hardening as he watched her, then Kinn. “Grace, I’m sorry. You have to believe me. I—”

  “You heard her.” Kinn’s voice was ice.

  Sean wavered on his spot for another moment. Grace glanced up at him, saw his hesitance to leave her alone with Kinn. She forced herself to square her shoulders and jerk her head toward the forest.

  Slowly, reluctantly, he took another step away.

  “We’ll discuss this later,” she said with cold formality.

  He blinked, his back straightening. Then his shoulders sagged. “Okay,” he nodded. He sent one final wary glance to Kinn then turned and started back toward the trees.

  Grace watched him retreat, at a complete loss. What had come over him? She never would have believed Sean was capable of— She couldn’t stop the shaking that came over her.

  Kinn moved to stand beside her, crossbow still raised and trained on the forest until he was sure Sean had gone. Then he lowered it and turned to her.

  “I told you to stay away from him.”

  “It was a misunderstanding,” she assured him.

  “That didn’t look like a misunderstanding.”

  “It was.” It had to be. The alternative was too terrifying to comprehend.

  She moved away from him to retrieve the book. Kinn studied her, squinting as he took her in. A predatory grin tweaked the corners of his mouth. The panic that had started with Sean continued with Kinn.

  “Okay.” Kinn shrugged, loosening his soldier stiffness and slinging his crossbow over his shoulder. “Whatever you say. It was a misunderstanding. You can’t blame him really.”

  Her face burned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  His grin split wider. His stare made her feel tiny. And he seemed to enjoy it.

  “It’s something I been seeing in my men. They’ve been kinda different since we got here, you know, kinda ramped up.” He sniffed, ground the ball of his foot into the dirt. “Aggression. You know.”

  She blinked, stomach filling with butterflies. “Aggression?”

  “Yeah. About women. Instincts.” His eyes flashed as if he might demonstrate what he meant. “Actually, that’s why I came to talk to you.”

  “That’s why you….” She blinked and hugged the book against her chest. “You came to talk to me about women?”

  “Yeah.”

  To her surprise, Kinn switched from brash arrogance to shifting uncertainty. He dropped his crossbow to scratch against his leg and glanced down.

  “Okay, here’s the thing. We’ve only got thirty-seven women in our camp out of a hundred and three. That’s almost two to one. And of those thirty-seven I think about ten of ’em are pregnant.”

  “Pregnant?” Grace’s voice cracked. “How?”

  Kinn raised his chin and looked at her as if she were simple. “How do you t
hink?”

  “I…I mean….” She raised a hand to push her hair back and to cool her hot face. “I mean, how are you handling it?”

  “I’m not handling it.” He shrugged. “But like your buddy Sean,” he jerked his head to the tree line with a sneer, “my men are…restless.”

  He stared at her, eyes proving his point with their intensity. She looked for an excuse to run, but there was none.

  “I dunno. Maybe it’s something about the moon.” Kinn sniffed and went on. “Maybe ’cause there aren’t any other people on it. Instinct, you know? I’m no intellectual, like you guys, but I had dogs growin’ up. The only thing animals care about is eating and mating. An’ humans are the biggest animals around.”

  She nodded in reluctant agreement. He had a valid point. It didn’t put her at ease.

  “I’m not disagreeing with you,” she began, “but we’ve only been here for a month. Even in your case, I don’t think a few months on a barely populated moon would kick-start that strong of an instinctual reaction.”

  “No?” His lips twitched to a wry grin. “You wanna come see how things are in my camp? Remember, we been in space for over a year with a strict no hanky-panky rule. Stuff like that makes people horny as hell.”

  Grace swallowed, then forced herself to take a deep breath. This was a problem like any other problem. It was her job to solve problems. Sex was, after all, a key element to their long-term survival. The Project hadn’t prepared her for the problem to be this…real, though.

  “So what do you need my help with?”

  Kinn’s mood shifted back to itching discomfort. He tapped the crossbow against his thigh and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Right, here’s the thing. I know you want everyone to come together into one settlement, and the more I think about it, the more I see your point.”

  Relief flashed through Grace, disarming her. “That’s fantastic! We can move—”