She sobbed. “If we can’t do this, I will never be able to wash that blood from my hands,” she said, before breaking down in tears. “And I don’t know if we can.”
Patrick stared at her a moment, unsure what to do. Carmen was an incredible woman, who’d shown nothing but strength at every turn. And now she was clearly bleeding out right in front of him. Emotionally, anyway. He’d never been the best at handling his own feelings, let alone helping others deal with theirs. He supposed that was why so many of his friends were like Amy and Fred – quiet people who kept to themselves. People like him.
But he…cared for Carmen. He wasn’t quite ready to jump any deeper than that. Even that little admission made him hurt to see her hurting, though. He couldn’t see her be hurt without trying to do something. So he did the only thing he could think of. He stood up from the chair and sat down on the bed next to Carmen. Then he gently wrapped his arms around her.
For a moment she froze, and he wondered if he had made a terrible mistake. In an instant, she’d whirl on him for putting his hands on her while she was vulnerable, and she’d kick his ass out of her room.
But then she softened, like butter just beginning to melt. She leaned into his embrace. And a moment later, she wrapped her arms around him, and was sobbing into his shoulder. He sat there and let her cry, holding her just tightly enough that she knew his arms were there, and not so hard that she felt trapped. She shook with her grief, and he knew that she was crying for all the people who had died of this virus, and all the ones who would die tomorrow, and all of the other tomorrows until she found a way to stop the illness and cure the sick. It was a terrible weight to bear. But he didn’t know how to tell her to set it aside.
She wasn’t a fool. He knew that intellectually she understood those deaths were not her fault. But emotionally she felt each one as a blow anyway.
Patrick kept holding her, gently stroking her back with one hand. He couldn’t think of anything else that he could do that would help more.
So he was taken completely by surprise when her face turned up toward his, her lips finding his mouth. Her kisses were soft this time, without all the fervor of the time in the Hopper. But they were no less earnest. If anything, their kisses felt even more passionate for being slower and more careful. More thought out, more considered.
Patrick brushed her hair back from her face. Her eyes were closed, her face the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. And he’d never felt so conflicted. This wasn’t fair to Carmen. She was hurting, and he…he wanted this very badly. He wanted her lips against his with an intensity that almost hurt. But not like this. Not when she was just looking for comfort. So he pulled back from their kiss. She opened her eyes, and they were filled with the unasked question – why did he stop?
“I don’t want you to regret anything we do together,” he said, his voice a soft murmur. Her lips were still dangerously close to his.
“I have not regretted anything we have done. Not one moment,” she replied, her tone matching his. Her eyes sparkled with her tears, but her face and her voice had lost the grief. She gave him a small smile, and then leaned in to his lips again. This time he didn’t pull away.
He was lost in her mouth, the sensual way her tongue felt against his, the softness of her lips. Each kiss was gentle, passionate, and – real. Patrick found himself wishing that they could just go on like this forever.
And then he heard someone clear his throat. Carmen jumped back from him like she’d been burned. Both he and Carmen turned and looked up toward the door, where Carmen’s father stood. He’d opened the door halfway, and was standing half in and half out of the room, as if unsure whether to barge in the rest of the way or beat a retreat. His eyes were narrowed, his bushy eyebrows down, and his mouth was cast in a scowl. Patrick winced. The man was clearly furious.
“I approved you going to your room to work, Carmen, not to kanoodle,” Dr. Rosa said. Then he turned his baleful gaze on Patrick. “But as it happens, I have a need of you as well, sir.”
“How can I help?” Patrick asked, standing up. He’d do whatever it took to calm the situation down and relieve the doctor’s anxiety.
“World Health has found a survivor, in the middle of the Texas quarantine zone. Initial indications are that he’s immune. They’ve moved him to Atlanta for safekeeping,” Rosa said.
“That’s incredible news!” Carmen said. “If he’s immune, we might be able to figure out how, and from there…”
“A cure, yes,” Dr. Rosa said. “I’ll be returning to Earth immediately to pick him up and bring him here. They’ve sent me all the data they have on the man, and he seems very promising.”
“We’re not due to return to Earth for supplies for another two weeks,” Patrick said. “But I’m sure we can get cleared for a special trip under these circumstances.”
“You’re already cleared. We depart as soon as you can warm up the shuttle engines,” Dr. Rosa said. “Please go do so while I talk with my daughter a few minutes.”
Rosa came the rest of the way into the room, stiffly holding the door for Patrick. He hesitated a moment, glancing at Carmen. She gave him the faintest of nods, and he took that to mean she’d be OK. He started out the door.
“Oh, Mr. Wynn?” Rosa said, before he closed the door. “On your way to the shuttle, you may pick up any personal belongings you have in your room. I’ll be returning to the moon base with a more suitable pilot. One less likely to distract my staff.”
Before he could protest or reply, the door clicked closed behind him. Patrick heard the lock turn over in the door. He stood there a moment, trembling. Of all possible outcomes, this was probably the worst he could have imagined. Rosa was going to send him back to Earth and dump him there. With the luck he’d been having, Rosa would use his political pull to have Patrick sent somewhere singularly unpleasant. And he’d never be in space again.
His hands were shaking. He went back to his room to pack his things, feeling like a man on his way to the gallows.
11
CARMEN WATCHED her father close and lock the door, barely able to breathe. She wasn’t sure what he was going to say, or do. All of this seemed very out of character for the gentle man she’d admired and wanted to emulate. But this anger! The relish in his voice when he’d meted out his punishment for Pat was shocking. She’d known men like that, but her father? Sure, he’d frowned when she went out on dates, but he’d been off on business as often as he’d been home when she was a teen.
She put her hand to her mouth. He’d never actually gotten to see her go on a date, had he? When he was home, they’d spent the time together. She’d gone off with friends mostly when he was away. And then she was off at college – she’d dated people there, too. But he never saw it.
Carmen blinked, seeing her father through new eyes. Did he think she was still a virgin in need of his protection? If so, he was in for something of a shock. But she’d have to be careful. He was furious, and unless he calmed down, he’d banish Pat. She didn’t want that, and not just because she was growing more and more to count on having him around. She knew how much being in space meant to him. She couldn’t bear to be the cause of Pat being grounded!
“You’ll be gone a few days,” she started, cautiously probing his mood. “Anything you’d like me to focus on in particular?”
“Focus on? I wanted you to focus on your work. Not some pretty face you ran to as a distraction.” He waved a hand dismissively. “You can do what you want. I’m leaving Doctor Levins in charge of the lab.”
Levins was the only man on the team older than her father. She raised an eyebrow, but kept her opinions to herself for the moment. He was not just an old man – he was out of date, and woefully out of his element up here on the moon. Her father never should have brought the man here, so far away from what he was used to. No matter how good he was at his job, if he couldn’t do that job effectively on the moon, then he should have been left on Earth.
“Father, I think you’re
making a mistake about Patrick,” she said. She wasn’t sure how to broach the subject, but he seemed more resigned than furious, so why not try the direct approach?
“The man had his hands all over you when I came in. And what were you doing with him alone on that ship, in the solar storm?” he retorted.
“Then you should send me back, not him,” Carmen said. “He’s been on this base for years now. He knows it like his own bones. He’s one of the most experienced people on the base. Don’t you think removing him will hurt the mission?”
“It doesn’t matter, if he–”
“Send me back, instead,” she insisted. “Or keep us both here. But sending him away is wasteful.” She used the word intentionally. Her father abhorred waste.
His reaction stunned her. She expected him to argue back, or even shout at her. Instead, he simply crumpled into her chair. She saw clearly in that moment how exhausted he was, how much the strain of the work here was telling on him. He never let that show, back in the lab. He was always the hero there, always the strong center. But in his wilted face she could see all the strain and despair and pain she’d unloaded on poor Pat just a short while ago – magnified, because her father was the one actually in charge. He’d been charged with saving the human race from extinction.
It was a brutal load to carry.
Carmen knelt next to him and gently reached out to stroke his arm. “Father,” she said. “When was the last time you slept?”
“I sleep every night,” he replied stiffly.
“For how many hours? Two? Or three?”
He didn’t reply, which told Carmen that her guess was more or less accurate. He was exhausted, and the strain was starting to crack his usually calm demeanor.
“The one thing I cannot do is send you back, Carmen. You know that. I cannot protect you, there,” he said.
He brushed off her hand and stood back up, resolve locking his face into a cool mask again. “I will rest on the shuttle ride. And I think we will do fine without Mr. Wynn. The rest of his people seem quite capable, and I am sure that there is someone more practical who can be sent up from Earth on the return flight.”
He stalked out of her room, calling back over his shoulder as he left. “Report to Dr. Levins. If you want. Or hide in your room like a child if you prefer. We’ll solve the virus once we have this immune person up here with us anyway, so the work until then is irrelevant.”
He shut the door solidly behind him as he went. Carmen was left staring at the closed door, wondering how things had gone from wonderful to terribly wrong so quickly.
Patrick smelled Amy’s perfume the moment he opened the door to his room. He sighed, and almost just closed the door again. He didn’t need to deal with her right now. And frankly, he didn’t have a lot of precious belongings in his cabin worth hanging on to. He was going to toss everything into a bag.
He growled under his breath. He was getting tired of being chased around. With a shove, he pushed the door open hard enough that it knocked against the wall.
Amy was inside, all right. She was clothed at least – after the way she acted in his office, he was half worried she’d be lying in his bed naked. She was in his bed, draped elegantly over the covers, but she still had her ship-suit on.
“Well, Pat. I’m guessing you’ve screwed the pooch?” she asked.
He grunted in reply and picked up a shoulder bag.
“Doc Rosa kicking you off the base?” she asked, sitting up. She seemed startled at the idea. “I wasn’t sure he’d try to go so far. You gonna fight it?”
“I’ll try,” Pat replied. He had some connections on Earth, too. You didn’t get to a position like his without having some friends in some of the right places. He didn’t have the sort of clout Rosa did, but maybe it would help.
“But you don’t think it’s gonna work,” Amy said. It wasn’t a question.
He stopped packing his bag and looked at her. “Wouldn’t be packing my things if I did.”
She flopped backward onto his bed, her arms splayed out, her hair drifting down more slowly than the rest of her in the light gravity, framing her motion. She smiled up at him invitingly. “I did say that if you were just looking to dip your wick, that I was available. Without all the complications.”
Her fingers went to the fastener at the front of her shirt, opening the zipper a half dozen inches. Enough to show that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath it.
“Last chance,” she said, a teasing tone to her voice.
She was hot. No denying that. But Patrick wasn’t interested. Between being upset at likely losing his job – and his career in space – and wondering how on Earth he was going to see Carmen again, he just wasn’t in the mood. No matter how inviting Amy’s bosom looked.
But they’d worked together a long time. She was trying to be nice. Or something. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, anyway.
“I have to report to the shuttle right away,” he said. “We’re leaving as soon as I get there. Rosa is probably already there waiting – can’t risk making him more angry right now.”
Amy made a noise in her throat and crossed her arms over her chest, but didn’t say anything. She zipped herself and then sat up. “Pat, more seriously. Be careful, this run. Earth is getting nasty.”
He looked around the room, only half paying attention to her words. He was pretty sure he had everything that he really needed. Was this the last time he would see this room? Was this the last day he would stand on the moon? The idea filled him with dread.
“Nasty how?” he asked absently.
“Riots. Militias. People doing what they can to stay alive,” Amy replied. “Be careful.”
He stepped close and offered her a handshake. “I will. Thanks.”
She stood up and took his hand, but instead of shaking it she pulled him into an embrace instead. “Be safe down there,” she whispered into his ear.
Then she let him go and fled his room without another word.
The room was still around him. It felt sterile now, with his few belongings tucked into a bag. He glanced around once more to see if there was anything else he should take with him, but nothing jumped out at him. He wasn’t the sort of man who felt the need to surround himself with tons of personal belongings, anyway. People who needed things around them tended to do poorly in the cramped confines of a space station, ship, or lunar base anyway.
He left the room and shut the door.
The hallway from his room to the ship was oddly clear of traffic. Usually he would have run into someone on the way, but today – not a soul. Just as well, really. He didn’t want to see anyone. How could he explain that he probably wasn’t coming back from this trip? What reason could he give – an angry father, upset that he kissed the man’s daughter? Anger burned in his gut. They weren’t in high school. And he wasn’t some creep out to deflower Carmen and run off. He liked her. Cared about her.
And now he was losing her. The thought hit him like a punch in the gut.
He reached the ship and powered up the engines. He’d only worked his way halfway through the checklist before Dr. Rosa’s voice came over the radio.
“I am aboard and ready to leave. Please expedite our departure.”
Patrick ground his teeth together. Like that wasn’t what he was already doing. He rushed his way through the rest of the pre-flight list as quickly as he could and still be safe. Damn the man if he thought Patrick was going to skip steps just to get off the ground ten minutes faster! But he finished soon enough. Too soon, really.
Patrick looked out through the cockpit windows at the moon’s landscape. He tried to soak up every detail that he could, memorize every shadow and highlight. He loved this place.
He looked over at the domes, and saw the dome that housed Carmen’s cabin. He wondered if she was still there. Was she crying? Was she safe? He wouldn’t be here to protect her, or hold her when the tears got away from her next time.
Patrick thought he was going to miss Carmen even m
ore than the moon. Which was strange to him… He never thought he’d feel that way about anyone.
No help for it now. The only help he might find would be on Earth, when he’d have to fight for his right to return. He hit the thrusters and the shuttle lifted off from the ground, burning brightly as he plugged in the course to return to Earth.
Carmen sat in her room a while, trying to soak up the shock of it all. One minute she had been basking in the warmth of Patrick’s arms, and the next her father was in her room, and sending Patrick away. She’d heard the thrusters of the shuttle’s takeoff. There wasn’t anything she could have done to deter her father right now, not without getting Patrick into even more trouble than she already had. She felt guilty enough about that as it was! If only she’d listened when he first pulled back! He was so sweet about that, too, not wanting to take advantage of her. The thought made her smile. Like it hadn’t been her, kissing him!
That thought brought her back around to her father again. He’d barged in here, unasked, without so much as a knock on the door. He’d been damned near irrational over the incident. OK, lack of sleep excused some of it. She could hope that he would be thinking more clearly by the time he reached Earth – if he actually slept during the trip. Somehow, she thought he would use the time to catch up on his reading instead.
But some of it was just his paternal nature taking over. There wasn’t anything she could do about that, not directly. But what about taking a round-about approach?
She hopped up from the bed and sat down at her desk chair, powering up the console there. She wanted the full size screen and keyboard for this. Her father said that Earth had sent up enough data on this immune person to look promising. If it looked promising, then there were lab results – maybe even more. Worth a look.
Carmen opened the lab work folders and searched for the new files, but they were nowhere to be seen. Which meant her father hadn’t bothered to add them to the lab folder before he left. They were still in his personal folders, or maybe even still in his email. Carmen exhaled, wondering if he’d done that by accident, because he was so exhausted – or deliberately, to keep her out of the data? The latter made no real sense. He should want the team to have access right away. But if he wasn’t thinking clearly, nothing was certain.
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