by Tasha Black
Rose headed straight in, so Rex followed, trying to stay close without interfering.
Jensen Wayne turned to them and gave Rex a wave.
Rex nodded back and lowered his gaze, hoping to discourage his former trainee from greeting him. Rose was in charge here, and she needed to know he respected that.
“Any news?” Rose asked.
“None, ma’am,” Jensen replied. “I’ve interviewed several employees, and no one saw anything unusual. I have no reason to suspect any of them.”
“Thank you anyway,” Rose said.
“My pleasure,” Jensen said, brightening. “Call me anytime. But hopefully there won’t be a need.”
“Amen to that,” Rose declared.
Jensen gave Rex another look and then continued toward the door.
“While I’m here I need to see to a few things,” Rose said.
“Sure,” Rex said, wincing as he wondered if she was going to tell him she didn’t need his blessing.
But she ignored him entirely and headed toward the back. “Excess seconds still on the tables in warehouse one?” she called to one of the workers.
“Yes, Rose,” they called back.
“Excellent,” she said.
Rex followed her back to a gray door.
She opened it and they went in together.
It was a small, windowless room with rows of metal tables.
A huge array of small prickly looking fruits were spread across two of the tables.
“Shit,” Rose muttered.
Rex wondered what they were, but didn’t want to risk infuriating her by asking.
She glanced over at him and must have guessed what he was thinking.
“This is ripened novafruit,” Rose said. “An old Terran delicacy. If you ship it before it’s ripened you can crate it. But ripe like this it has to be handled with care. The skin can burst and they’re very juicy.”
“How can I help?” he asked.
“I don’t need your help,” she said automatically.
“Well, I have to stay close, so I can either help you or watch you,” he said reasonably. “Wouldn’t you rather have help?”
“Yes,” conceded, finally meeting his eyes again. ‘Thank you.”
Relief washed over him that maybe they were becoming friends again, or at least as close to something like friends as the two of them could possibly be.
“What can I do?” he asked.
“Grab some of those sheets of corrugated plastic,” she said, indicating a stack in the corner. “We’ll load them onto those individually and then place the sheets in a container.”
He grabbed a stack of sheets and brought them over to her.
Immediately, she began placing a novafruit in each section of the channel, where it was protected from slamming into other fruits or the sides of the container it would ultimately travel in.
He copied her actions with a sheet of his own across the table from her.
“I heard you talking earlier,” he said. “You’re trading these to get something else?”
“Not these,” Rose said, shaking her head. “These are imperfect fruits. We’re donating them.”
“That’s wonderful,” he said, genuinely impressed. “Very few people would take the time.”
“I don’t like waste,” she said, shrugging and not meeting his eyes.
But he knew better than that. There were a million things she could do with these seconds besides give them away.
He was pleased to see there was kindness in her.
A sudden pang of pain brought his attention back to his work. “Ouch,” he murmured, looking down at the pad of his left middle finger.
“I should have told you to be careful,” Rose said, moving to him quickly and grabbing his hand. “These things have some pretty serious thorns.”
He watched her, all sensation of pain gone as he took in the feeling of her warm hands on his.
“I’m going to get it out,” she warned him, her voice a little huskier than before.
Did she feel it too?
He held perfectly still and watched as she bent over him, her pale skin over the blue of his, like a sandy beach meeting an azure ocean.
She effortlessly plucked the tiny thorn from his finger, then brought his hand to her mouth.
He gasped when she took his finger into the wet heat of her mouth and sucked gently.
The room around them seemed to melt away and there was only Rose, her dark hair gleaming, her mouth on his trembling hand and the heat of his desire coursing through him, strong enough to consume them both.
Too soon, she dropped his hand and sped across the room to spit into a sink.
“Sorry,” she said, wiping her mouth as she approached the table again. “I should have warned you about the thorns. There’s a mild venom in them but it only makes you a little light-headed. I think we caught it in time anyway.”
“Thanks,” he managed, still gutted by the feelings that had washed over him at her touch.
“Just pick them up by the centers,” Rose suggested.
She was already hard at work again.
He reached for the next fruit more carefully and placed it in a channel.
“So where are we bringing these?” he asked.
“Sheldrahk is mainly a fueling station, but there is a population of workers there,” Rose said. “I understand they’re in need of supplies. I’m coordinating with an organization to help.”
She was right about Sheldrahk. He knew it well. The workers there were living on the edge of survival.
But her mention of an organization gave him pause.
“Which organization?” Rex asked.
“The Association for Workers,” Rose said.
Shit.
He struggled with his conscience for a moment, knowing all along he would definitely be telling her the truth, even if it made her furious.
“What?” she asked.
“Rose, I hate to say it, but that particular organization is pretty shady,” he said. “Like most of the supposed charity groups on Sheldrahk, they take donations and then sell them at a rate that’s probably twice the market value.”
Rose sighed and put her head in her hands.
“I’m sorry,” he told her sincerely. “I think it’s wonderful that you want to help.”
“What am I supposed to do?” she asked.
“Well, we can give at the source,” he suggested. “If you can deliver everything directly to the population that needs it, then you’ll know you really helped.”
“I have no connections with the workers,” Rose sighed.
“I might know someone who can help us,” Rex offered.
“Seriously?” she asked.
“Yes,” he told her.
Her smile was radiant. It lit him up inside like the solar lights bringing morning to the forest dome.
“Fantastic,” she said. “Let’s get to work. We don’t have much time.”
7
Rose
Rose followed Rex toward the service offramp.
She had never been off board at a fueling station before.
Soon the ship would reach civilian ports where the guests could explore the local attractions. She would see reaches of the universe she had never even dreamed of back on Terra-4
“I don’t care who they are,” a guard was saying into his wrist comm. “This stop is for staff only.” He paused, nodding his head. “Yeah, yeah, passengers are so entitled on these luxury cruises. But they can’t get off here, no exceptions.”
Rose flashed him her staff ID badge on the way past, suddenly feeling worried that they wouldn’t let Rex out without a badge.
But the guard only nodded and gave Rex a little wave.
Everyone seemed to love her prisoner.
She squelched the resentment that rose in her chest.
He was actually turning out to be a pretty decent guy.
For a Cerulean.
The ramp dumped them onto a muddy path t
hat led into a building big enough to blot out the light of two huge stars.
Freezing wind swirled her hair upward and sent shivers down her spine, in spite of the borrowed coat they’d made her put on in Agro before leaving.
When they got inside, Rose blinked and let her eyes adjust to the dim interior of the space. Somehow it was even colder in here than out on the muddy plain.
Hundreds of workers scurried about, their breath pluming before them in the frigid warehouse.
Packages moved on conveyor belts and mechanical arms that swept dangerously close to the workers, some of whom had to do their jobs while slightly hunched, just to avoid being maimed by the robotic equipment.
It all had a certain familiarity about it for Rose. Everyone was thin, like on Terra-4. And the tattered well-worn clothing looked like home, too.
But at least on Terra-4, the weather had been more temperate.
As they watched, an older worker collapsed onto the concrete floor.
A bot slid over, scooped him up, and slid a thin reflective blanket around him, while another bot injected him with some kind of blue liquid from a built-in syringe.
They carried him to a corner beside an electric grate that reminded her of the inside of the community oven on Terra-4.
The grate blinked to life, emitting red heat, and a digital count appeared on a screen over his head.
“What in the world?” she whispered to Rex.
“They’re warming him up so he can get back to work,” Rex whispered back. “It’s cheaper to do emergency revivals than to heat the whole workspace.”
“Dear God,” she murmured.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said, grabbing her hand.
She let herself be led through an exit, down a long dark corridor and out onto a platform overlooking the plains.
The wind whipped against her again, but at least she was out of sight of the poor workers.
She noticed that Rex was still holding her hand.
But she didn’t mind it. She was grateful for the comfort.
A hover-cab wavered in the air in front of them.
Rex exchanged a few words with the driver in another language.
The driver nodded, and Rex helped Rose in first, then climbed in after her.
“He’s going to swing around to get our container,” Rex explained. “He said he’s got the towing capacity.”
Rose nodded and lowered her chin to get the wind out of her face.
The little craft took off with a shudder and a puff of energy.
She wondered how it could possibly tow a container as large as the one she and Rex had prepared.
When they reached the loading dock, the driver squabbled for a moment with the staff stationed there. But after a few minutes, the container was attached and they were cleared to go.
They took off with another puff, the craft puttering along, slowly but steadily.
The driver turned and threw back a stiff packing cloth.
Rex let go of Rose’s hand to tuck the makeshift blanket around her legs.
Almost immediately, she felt a little warmer.
“We’ll be there soon,” he yelled against the wind.
She nodded, not even wanting to open her mouth enough to let the cold inside.
After a moment, Rex relaxed and let his big thigh rest against hers.
Even through the blanket, she could feel the heat of him. The sensation was so delicious that it made her shiver more than the cold ever could.
“You’re freezing,” he said, wrapping an arm around her.
She soaked in his warmth, unable to admit to herself that she was enjoying more than a break from the cold.
His heat embraced her, warming her to the core.
He was so warm. Did Ceruleans have a higher base temperature than humans? She couldn’t remember, and didn’t really care.
Too soon, the little skiff slowed to a halt at the entrance to a cavern.
The driver called something back to Rex.
Rose figured this must be where the workers kept their food stores. Rex let go of her shoulder and got up, offering her a hand again. They hopped out onto a rocky path that led into the cavern.
It was much warmer inside, almost sauna-like with heat and moisture. It didn’t make sense for a place that stored food and goods.
“Is this their storage?” she asked.
“This is their home,” Rex told her. “Come on, let’s meet the people you’re helping.”
A pair of teenaged boys approached, jogging toward them from somewhere inside the cave.
“Rex, it is good to see you, ledare,” one of them called in broken Intergalactic.
“Tayliss, Aargsmerg,” Rex called back. “Good to see you. We brought some novafruit.”
“Seriously?” Tayliss asked, his eyes sparkling.
“It’s from Rose,” Rex said. “She grew it herself in a hydroponic ship garden.”
“Wow,” said the one called Aargsmerg.
Both boys observed her in wonder.
She felt the blood rush to her cheeks.
“We’re going to run and say hello to Matter Gola,” Rex said. “We only have a short time while the ship refuels.”
The boys continued back to the skiff, presumably to help the driver offload the container.
Rex and Rose continued on in silence.
At last the cavern opened into a wide chamber with a fire at its center.
Circling the fire sat a crowd of people on reed mats on the floor, which sweated moisture in spite of the fire. Most of them were very old women, small children and a handful of pregnant mothers.
“Isn’t it dangerous to have a fire in a cave?” Rose asked quietly.
“It’s not ideal. But they have a ventilation system and a couple of oxygen monitors,” Rex said. “They have to make do.”
“Rex,” cried a woman who was as wrinkled as a walnut. “So good to see you, boy. And you brought a woman.”
“Hello, Matter Gola,” Rex said warmly. “This is Rose, my… friend.”
He glanced at Rose almost pleadingly.
She nodded. She didn’t have the time or the desire to try to explain the nature of their relationship to these kind people.
The woman smiled, then embraced him and Rose in turn with surprisingly strong arms.
“I brought you just a little present this time,” Rex said.
The children were getting up and tiptoeing around the fire to get closer.
Rose was surprised to see they were unafraid of the big blue soldier. Not everything here was exactly like it was back home.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a leather satchel.
“I have some candy,” he said sadly. “But too much candy gives me a tummy ache…”
“We will eat it, ledare,” cried a little girl, who had sidled up to him bravely, the other children following behind her.
“Oh, you don’t want a tummy ache, do you, Fryla?” Rex teased.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Fryla cried.
He tossed her the satchel and she snatched it deftly out of the air.
“You must divide it evenly, Fryla,” he told her.
“Yes, ledare,” she answered solemnly.
The children scrambled to the other side of the fire to divvy up their treasure.
Rose couldn’t help smiling at the happy faces.
“I’m kind of between pay periods,” Rex told Matter Gola quietly. “I brought just a few things.”
He pulled a small bolt of heavy cloth from inside his coat along with a packet of thick titanium sewing needles.
“For Hana’s baby,” Matter Gola whispered in wonder.
“I hope she can use it,” Rex said.
Tears blurred Rose’s vision.
“Of course she can,” Matter Gola said. “You made Gola a happy matter today. Thank you for helping my children.”
“I wish I could do more,” Rex said. “Maybe on our next stop. But Rose here brought a shipping containe
r of novafruit.”
“Novafruit?” Matter Gola echoed breathlessly. “How can you afford such a thing, child? Are you royalty?”
She eyed Rose’s plain clothing and lack of ornamentation suspiciously.
“Oh, I’m a just farmer on the ship,” Rose said. “This is excess fruit. I can’t sell it because it’s too ripe to ship, so I’m allowed to donate it, on behalf of the ship founders, of course. It doesn’t belong to me.”
“Rose is being modest,” Rex said. “She works very hard to produce as much as possible, even when she knows it is above and beyond the needs of the ship.”
“This is a great kindness,” Matter Gola said to Rose. “You will be blessed for your hard work, and for remembering the people of Sheldrahk. If you ever have need of our help, we are your friends to call upon. We don’t have much, but what is ours, is yours.”
“Thank you,” Rose said, moved by the woman’s blessing and feeling more at home than she had since boarding the PostHaste that carried her to the Stargazer II.
8
Rex
Rex watched Rose’s face as the platform took them back aboard the big ship and lifted them to their rooms.
She had been quiet ever since they left Sheldrahk, a thoughtful expression on her lovely face.
Conditions on Sheldrahk were very poor, but perhaps not so much worse than on her own home planet. He’d never been there to see for himself.
He wondered what she was feeling.
The platform completed its ascent with a little bump.
He followed her into the foyer and watched as she placed her palm against the sensor. The door slid open and they went inside.
The view of the forest was exquisite in the manmade sunset.
Rose stood facing it for a long moment, perfectly still.
“I know it’s not my place,” he said quietly. “But if you want to talk about it, I’m glad to listen. I was very emotional after my first visit to Sheldrahk.”
“It’s too much like home,” she said suddenly. “Why is there so much suffering for some people, and so much luxury for others?”
“I don’t know,” Rex replied.
“They wanted me to jettison the excess,” Rose said bitterly, spinning to face him. “Because it was easier.”