In the Company of Others

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In the Company of Others Page 38

by Julie E. Czerneda


  “Petra ...”

  Her eyes opened, revealing dilated pupils that quickly shrank to normal size. “Yes, Dr. Lynn? Aren’t we doing the experiment?” Petra blushed and struggled to sit up. “Oh, dear, did I fall asleep on you? That happens to me all the time.”

  “The experiment went—” Gail deliberately didn’t look at Aaron, “—very well, thanks, Petra. How do you feel right now?”

  The blush deepened. “Well, I—feel pretty wonderful, Dr. Smith.” The woman giggled, tried to stop herself, then giggled again. Aisha’s lips twitched, even as she and Gail traded glances.

  “Is this how you usually feel waking up?” Aisha asked.

  Her green eyes were sparkling. “I’m always happy and relaxed during the trance—that carries through when I come out of it.” Another infectious giggle. Petra put her hand over her lips as if to stop herself “I don’t remember ever feeling this happy before. It’s quite amazing.”

  “Thank you, Petra,” Gail told her. “Dr. Lynn will take more details from you, if you don’t mind.”

  From the contented look on the assistant engineer’s face, Aisha could take all the details she wanted.

  “Care to explain?”

  Gail whirled, saying: “Aaron!” perhaps a little too enthusiastically for the moment. Maybe everyone was too busy watching Petra giggle and coo. No such luck. Aaron looked like he’d been run over by a freight trolley, but he smiled up at her with a warmth that said he’d heard the emotion in her voice.

  Malley wasn’t smiling at all. In fact, Gail thought with disgust, the stationer was beginning to look downright grim.

  Did he think she was a fool? They were going to have to talk—she wasn’t looking forward to it.

  Gail firmly controlled her visible reactions as she went to Aaron’s side. “First, tell me what you experienced,” she requested, keeping it professional.

  The way his eyes lingered on her mouth didn’t help a bit.

  Chapter 59

  FIFTEEN hours. Didn’t sound like much, if you were talking a shift and a half to cover someone late, or how long that someone, usually Syd Denery, could sleep after too much partying.

  It wasn’t much, when you were talking about time spent screaming through the darkness, aiming at a tiny ball of dirt somewhere out there.

  Even less, Malley thought, when the end result would be standing on that ball of dirt, without walls or a roof to be seen. Just standing, a column of atmosphere, taller than Thromberg was long, pressing on your shoulders, your feet glued to the floor—the ground—by gravity that had nothing to do with the capable maintenance guys in Outward Five.

  “You seem a little unsettled tonight,” Aisha observed, her hand poised over Malley’s forehead. “Want to talk about it first?”

  The stationer shook his head. “There isn’t time. I’ll only get one more shot at this before we—arrive.”

  He closed his eyes as his companion’s fingers traced his eyebrows, then pressed gently into each temple, rubbing slowly at the tension there. She’d put up with a lot, these past six nights. “Sorry, Aisha. It was rough, today, with Aaron. That’s all.”

  “Yes, it was. But worthwhile, don’t you think? Your friend did. He’s very brave.”

  “And stupid,” Malley growled.

  Her fingers lifted, and he opened his eyes. Aisha’s head was tilted, her expression puzzled as she studied him. The light from the candles she’d placed around her room drew sparks from the tiny gold-and-crystal insects in her hair. This late, she wore layers of a silky fabric, its waves of red, yellow, and orange lapping at her midnight skin. It resembled nothing Malley was used to calling clothing.

  He’d grown quite fond of having Aisha surprise him.

  “Why is Aaron stupid?” she asked.

  Malley took a deep breath and blew it out with a laugh. “Just kidding. I’m always teasing him—keeps him from being too serious about life. Can we get started?”

  Aisha turned and went to her cabinet, then returned with the headset and goggles. “Lie down, if you’re in such a hurry not to talk to me.”

  She had the oddest bedside manner. “Is this part of the therapy, Dr. Lynn?” he asked her, using his best smile. Malley stayed sitting on the edge of her bed.

  “Maybe.” Aisha had a pretty heart-starting smile of her own. “Or it could be part of being a friend, Hugh Malley.”

  “Friends, huh?” Malley nodded, thinking of the reaction if he brought this exotic version of the Earther into Sammie’s. Knowing Aisha, he reminded himself, she’d fit right in—after making most of his friends faint with envy.

  Sammie?

  Malley felt confused whenever he thought of the man, of what Sammie and the others had done to the Merry Mate II. Of what they might have done to Aaron, if he’d been on his ship.

  Not routine, Malley thought, suddenly homesick. Nothing was anymore.

  “Friends talk to one another,” Aisha ventured, taking her time untangling part of the headset. “About what makes them happy—or troubles them—”

  “I don’t want to talk—about today or Aaron.”

  “Ah,” she said, standing so her thighs touched his knees, reaching to place the headset on his head. “I see. Who else don’t you want to talk about?”

  Malley loved Aisha’s voice, if not her perception. He rested his hands on the roundness of her hips, and her smile broadened. Encouraged, he used this light hold to pull her into his lap. As he’d suspected, she fit quite nicely, one arm trailing cool silk as it went around his neck.

  “And this is to distract me from finding out who you want to talk about—or don’t want to talk about?” Aisha said with a laugh. “It might work—but then there’s your session to consider.” She calmly finished adjusting the headset, seemingly oblivious to his interested exploration of the warm territory under the silks.

  “Could do more good,” Malley mumbled, quite charmed by what he was finding, and by now thoroughly distracted himself. He dipped his head, aiming for her neck and anticipating sweet smells and softness, only to have Aisha slip the goggles over his eyes before his lips touched anything but air.

  “Be good and take your medicine,” she said. “You’ve come a long way this week and we mustn’t lose momentum.”

  He felt the light brush of her mouth against his, as if in regret, then his lap was cold and empty. Malley sighed and blew a kiss in her direction, before lying back on the pillows and swinging his legs up and around. “You know what they say about all work and no play, Doctor,” he grinned, unrepentant. “Look what’s it’s done to Her Ladyship.”

  “Gail.”

  The word wasn’t quite ice-edged, but close. Malley pulled the goggles from his eyes and peered at her. “I didn’t mean it as an insult—your ‘Gail’ doesn’t seem to be the playful sort. That’s all.”

  “Because she hasn’t returned your advances?” Aisha asked, the lilt in her voice accentuated by a hint of scorn.

  “Whoa,” Malley said, sitting up and deciding he was insulted. “What advances?” Anyway, if he’d made any serious ones, they’d have been returned. Gail Smith wasn’t immune—until lately, he added to himself.

  “You’re going to tell me you haven’t displayed interest.”

  Malley felt his face starting to burn. “I’m always—interested,” he said truthfully enough. “But unless it’s mutual, I don’t bother—you know, this really isn’t any of your business, Aisha.”

  “It could be, if it is upsetting you—or affects Gail.”

  “Trust me. Gail Smith isn’t being affected by me. In any regard.”

  “Ah,” Aisha stretched out the syllable until Malley felt she’d expressed just about every possible reaction, including disbelief. Then she knelt in front of him, silks spreading over the floor, her hands on his knees. “But then there’s your friend,” she said, eyes serious. “The one who is affecting Gail.”

  “Aaron? What do you know about him and—” Malley rubbed one hand over his face, then dropped it into his l
ap and gazed at her fondly, if with some exasperation. “You set me up.” He sighed heavily. “Look, I wasn’t going to talk about it. I didn’t think anyone else had noticed. Maybe it’s nothing—”

  Aisha smiled back at him, but sadly, as though they shared some grief. “Nothing? A polite and friendly man—whose eyes can’t leave her for more than an instant. A reasonable, sensible man who doesn’t just endure uncomfortable and dangerous tests. No, he conquers them for her, like some knight on a hopeless quest.”

  “Hopeless is right. Aaron’s playing the fool to fantasize about her,” Malley surprising himself by the bitter note in his voice. “Not that I blame him. A pretty face can be a powerful distraction. And, with what he’s lost—the pressures he’s under to help with the Quill—the doubt about himself? Wonder is he’s stable at all.” He paused, then growled, “Which means your Gail should know better than to encourage him.” Without intending to, Malley remembered how her hair had drifted against Aaron’s cheek—and the startled, then lost look on his friend’s face. Potent weapons, the woman had, he thought bitterly, wishing he’d snapped her neck when he’d had the chance.

  “Know better?” Aisha repeated thoughtfully. “We’d all like to know better, Malley—to pick the object of our affections using our heads, not our hearts.”

  “You think Dr. Gail Smith, Earther, scientist—bloody ruler of this ship—feels anything for Aaron?” Malley tried to laugh, but her expression made him stop. He went on almost angrily. “Aaron’s her ticket to glory. If a few smiles make him work harder, risk more—why not? She manipulates people better than anyone I’ve met. I’ve seen it for myself.”

  “Then you’ve been looking in a mirror, Malley,” Aisha accused. “You are so much the same there’s hardly air for the rest of us to breathe when you’re both in the lab.”

  “We’re the same?” Malley curled his left arm and smacked his right hand against the bicep. “Think I grew this studying at Titan University or being pampered on Earth?”

  “I think you excelled at anything you did, the same way Gail Smith excelled. Not because anyone expected you to, but because you couldn’t do anything less. You are both driven, passionate about your causes, single-minded to the point of obsession, and frustrated by anyone who can’t follow your intellectual leaps. You both flip from obnoxious to charming at will. I only put up with either of you because you want the truth—and you care about what that truth means to others.”

  Malley realized his mouth was open and closed it firmly.

  Aisha wasn’t finished. “Gail’s capable of many things—but not of seducing your friend into harming himself. Even if she was, she doesn’t need to—Aaron wants to see the terraformed worlds restored to the colonists from the stations as much as any of us. You know that.”

  “I know Gail’s not staying clear of him either,” Malley said, choosing to disregard Aisha’s comparisons as uncomfortably apt and not particularly the view of himself he preferred. “You could run the tests. There are a dozen others in the science sphere qualified.” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “I could do some!”

  “Gail doesn’t delegate crucial work. Maybe that’s the problem—” Her voice trailed off suggestively. “She always lives her work, her ambition—but I’ve never seen her wearing down, day by day, like this. What happened at the station troubles her. But this? It’s like she’s fighting demons.”

  “I’m not interested in Gail Smith’s conscience or her health,” Malley said bluntly. “Only Aaron’s. And she must see how he’s reacting to her. It’s worse every day. She must know any—fantasy—is going to hurt him. How impossible . . . they can’t . . . damn it, Aisha, you know what I’m trying to say.”

  “Ah,” another of the wise, soft sounds. Aisha leaned her cheek on his knee and didn’t look at him as she spoke. Her fingers found the palm of his hand, then intertwined themselves with his. “That no matter how much they want this, there’s no having it? Perhaps. There is more to love—”

  Malley traced one of the intricate braids along Aisha’s scalp with a finger, staring out at the candles on her dresser. Another of her surprises for him—unregulated combustion wasn’t permitted on Thromberg. “Tell that to Aaron,” the stationer said heavily. “It’s cut at him for years: the way he is, the things he can’t do—but at least he didn’t have strong feelings for anyone else to complicate it. And he’s proud, Aisha. Proud to the point of blind and stupid. He’s my best friend, but I’ve seen it. If this goes wrong—he can’t run and hide on his ship anymore. She’s left him without an escape route for the first time in his life. It will break him.”

  “All I can tell you is to try trusting Gail. If she cares about your friend, she won’t let things go that far,” Aisha looked up at Malley, dark eyes intent. “She knows the risks—she’ll be careful.”

  “Careful?” Malley considered the idea, then shook his head. “That’ll be the day. Your Gail likes the edge, in case you hadn’t noticed. Ask Grant sometime about her concept of ‘acceptable risk’ and what that’s cost already.” He suddenly saw it all—too clearly. “If she’s using Aaron’s feelings to control him . . . well, that’s a dangerous game. He’d better find out before something happens he’s going to regret all his life—” Or before a certain neck does get broken, Malley added to himself. “But no matter how unhappy it makes Aaron, I hope that’s all it is for her—a game.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if Gail Smith cares for Aaron, the way you think, it’s not a game anymore. And she’s more than likely to throw caution out the ’lock and Aaron’s life with it.” Not if he had any say in it, Malley promised himself grimly, drawing his fingers from Aisha’s. Not if he had any say at all.

  “Either way,” Aisha responded in a low voice, “you make it sound as though your friend must lose.”

  “Warned you I didn’t want to talk about him,” Malley said, making his tone almost flippant. “Depressing, isn’t it? Never you mind, Aisha, m’love. Let me get a few beers under Mr. Lovesick’s belt and I’ll set him straight about women’s wiles.” He captured the hand she’d left on his knee, bringing it up to his lips.

  “Really?” he asked. “And should I set Gail straight about the wiles of stationers?” Her generous mouth curved up.

  His almost smile faded. “If you want to warn her I’m watching—that’s fine.”

  “Oh, is that what you call hovering behind her, looking like the grim reaper? You have half the scientists and most of the techs looking over their shoulders now. Maybe you should ease off, Malley,” Aisha suggested. “See how things go in the next day. There’s going to be too much happening when we arrive anyway.”

  “Which means we shouldn’t waste any more time,” Malley put the goggles back on and lay down. “Can we get on with the session, please?” he gritted between his teeth.

  “With you tense as a piece of steel?” Before Malley could think of anything to say, he felt the mattress shift as she joined him on it. “Roll over,” she ordered.

  He thought of objecting, but turned on his side instead. She tucked him into the curve of her body, one arm over his chest, one leg over his. “Now,” a soft whisper in his ear, “see if you can calm yourself, Malley. Take a moment and think about being very calm, very rested. The day, the place, even your friend—you need to let it go.”

  Malley let out the breath he’d held, at the same time letting himself relax into her familiar warmth. When Aisha had offered to help him with his phobia, he hadn’t expected that help to be so—personal. She’d said it was this, or being strapped down. He vastly preferred the option of her silk-covered limbs, even though until tonight there’d been no hint she might welcome a closer entanglement.

  “Mmmph.” He wasn’t sure if that was approval a few breaths later, or Aisha getting comfortable. He was—

  The headset activated as if cued to his physical state. If he hadn’t known this was virtual and not real, Malley would have sworn he was now standing in a corridor similar to those he’
d known all his life.

  “Take your time. There’s nothing gained by rushing.” Aisha’s voice now sounded as though she was right behind him. He still felt her, comforting and real, despite the illusion presented by the goggles.

  There were doors along the corridor. Malley knew how the device worked—his eye movements were tracked by the goggles, bringing closer whichever door he focused on, opening that door if he blinked. Closing his eyes brought him back to the safety of the corridor. Knowing wasn’t the same as believing. The flow was dreamlike, incredibly real and vivid, with the exception that he was in control at all times.

  Malley ignored the first few doors. He “looked” down the hall and chose one farther along, watching it rush toward him.

  An air lock. He shuddered once, feeling Aisha’s arm tighten immediately to remind him he wasn’t really alone, that this was a waking dream.

  Every door would become an air lock. He was used to that now. He’d made it through fifteen, in six nights. One the first night. The hardest night.

  Malley made himself concentrate. There were words he was to say to himself, techniques Aisha was teaching him to help control the response of his heart and nerves. When he was ready, he’d go through this air lock and experience what was on the other side, whether the dark of space or planet night.

  It didn’t get easier. He knew that by now.

  It got done.

  Chapter 60

  “IT’S done, Dr. Smith.”

  Gail started, so thoroughly captivated by the image on the screen she’d missed hearing Grant’s approach.

  “Thank you.” She knew he referred to the robotic probes she’d ordered launched, some into orbit to survey the planet below them, more to drop into the atmosphere and relay information back to the Seeker’s environmental experts in the science sphere, and two—

  Two had coordinates to follow: one based on the ’Mate’s shuttle log, and the other on the records of Susan Witts. Those were on the same landmass, although separated by thousands of kilometers. Gail wanted to see both, before committing to a location for her trials.

 

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