Overload Flux Page 16

  The conversation turned to memorable vacation trips, of which Luka had none worth mentioning. His career choice had never lent itself to predictable leisure time. If he didn’t get a handle on his talent, he might have unintended leisure in his near future.

  He caught Mairwen’s eye, then subtly tilted his head toward the exercise room. She nodded slightly and continued eating. He made a mental note that she seemed to enjoy the duck and squash, but only ate one bite of the cinnamon apple compote before abandoning it.

  Since Adams cooked, Luka had suggested the rest of them should take on cleanup duty. Haberville once again managed to duck it, this time by taking Mairwen’s unfinished apple compote to Ta’foulou in the nav pod and not coming back. Once Haberville was asleep, he’d have to check the nav pod for any other dishes she’d left around.

  After changing into running shoes, he headed for the exercise room with Mairwen. He was doubly glad for her cover story, because it meant they no longer had to pretend to meet in the exercise room by chance.

  She stationed herself near the wall, facing the treadmill. He followed and hung his towel on the nearby rack. Knowing they were alone, he leaned in for a quick kiss, then whispered, “Thank you. Which charity?”

  “Rashad Tarana Survivors. It’s a half marathon in eight weeks.”

  It was an event he might actually have chosen had he known about it. No one deserved what had been done to the people of Rashad Tarana. “When did you look it up?”

  She brushed calloused fingertips along his neck and jawline. “This morning, when I saw how… focused you were going to be.”

  He smiled. “That’s a nicer word than ‘stubborn.’”

  “I know.” She kissed him, then stepped back.

  He set the treadmill for an easier pace, since his legs were already sore. He chose one of the mildest violence scenes he could think of and managed not to trip or lose control even once. It wasn’t a hard test, but it was a start.

  After a quick shower, he fell into bed, and for once didn’t think about anything else but sleep.

  At breakfast the next morning, Luka’s legs felt like overstretched elastic, though he was pretty sure only Mairwen noticed. Haberville and DeBayaud were asleep, so it was just a quiet meal with Adams.

  He’d awakened with a renewed determination to wrestle his talent into submission. He had to. He couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather do than use it to bring justice for the dead, which now included his friends.

  He decided to use weightlifting as his physical distraction, and Mairwen thought it was worth trying. It wasn’t his preferred form of exercise, but he needed to give his legs a rest, and it was good to keep his upper body strength balanced. The position of the weight bench gave him a clear view of Mairwen on the treadmill, if need be. He no longer needed to see her for his talent to find her if she was close enough, but he liked watching her run. She made it look so effortless that he could almost believe counteracting gravity was one of her extraordinary skills.

  His new method worked better than he’d hoped, especially considering yesterday’s disappointing results. He successfully called up two blood-drenched crime scenes and put them away again, and only lost rhythm a few times as he struggled to keep control. He didn’t have to focus his talent on Mairwen even once. Maybe he’d just needed the time away from it. He was cold as always, but a quick, hot shower made him feel better.

  After a stop in the kitchen to consult with Adams on upcoming menus and food supplies, he retreated to his stateroom and spent some time working on the case. He’d been too wrapped up in wrestling with his talent, and not focusing on the real reason he was on the ship in the first place. The planetary exploration data was as sparse as Haberville had said, and the fact that it was five hundred years out of date didn’t instill confidence. If the planet was dead, as it was supposed to be, they wouldn’t even have to land, and they would have made the trip for nothing.

  On the other hand, if the planet truly was a hybrid, there’d be no telling what they’d find. The pre-terraform native fauna and climate had been reported as jungle-like, but that vague description allowed for a lot of variation. If the hybrid mix of native and terraform life was viable, he almost hoped it was being exploited by a pharma company, because that would mean it wasn’t inimical to human life, and improved the odds his team could survive it long enough to get in and out with samples.

  He was reviewing the contents of the specialized med kit when he was interrupted by a quiet knock on his door. It was DeBayaud.

  “Morganthur says you should eat soon, before all the lunch stuff Adams made is gone.”

  “Did she really?” It didn’t sound like her. Too many words.

  “Well, not exactly. She just said you hadn’t eaten yet, and wouldn’t let me put the stuff away until you did.”

  Luka looked at the time and saw it was mid-afternoon. Now that he thought about it, his stomach had been complaining for a while. He’d intended to work on his talent control again after lunch, but maybe it would be better to wait until after dinner for what he wanted to try.

  He followed DeBayaud into the kitchen and made himself a quick sandwich, then helped DeBayaud store the rest of the food. He found Mairwen in her room, sitting in the far back corner of the platform, reading.

  “Thanks for looking out for me,” he said, waving what was left of his sandwich at her. He sealed the stateroom door behind him.

  “You’re welcome.” She closed her display. “How are your legs?”

  He smiled ruefully. “Stiff. I’ll be better tomorrow.” He stayed near the doorway, mindful of not dropping crumbs on the carpet or her bed, and finished the last bite. “After dinner, I want to try…” He broke off, remembering they couldn’t speak openly. “Svei því.” Damn it.

  With fluid movements, she stood and crossed to him, her body almost touching his, angled so he could speak quietly in her ear. He rested his hand on her lower back. The weave of her sweater was silky soft, and she was pleasantly warm.

  “I want to try using a less violent reconstruction, and use only the memory of running instead of actually doing it.” He took a deep breath and released it. “I have to know if I can do it.”

  She looked at him, then nodded. “This morning must have gone well. Your stateroom?”

  He was relieved. He’d been afraid she’d think he wasn’t ready. “Yes, and yes.”

  He had the answer to his question, but now he found himself reluctant to leave. “What are you reading?”

  “The xenobiological sampling safety protocol. Even though we have a decon chamber, I’d prefer not to infect the ship.”

  The Berjalan had been retrofitted with the decontamination chamber in front of the portal, but it wasn’t perfect. Careless procedure might mean both the personnel and the ship would have to be quarantined, which would be expensive and time-consuming. And in a worst-case scenario, fatal.

  He smiled. “You’re admirably patient with reading the most boring things. I needed two cups of coffee to get through it.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t sleep much.”

  He slid his hand up her back to the nape of her neck, skirting around the knife she wore to stroke the edge of her soft blonde hair. “Vocational training?” he asked softly.

  She shook her head minutely.

  “Rewiring?” He kept his voice so low he barely heard it himself.

  She nodded uneasily, her eyes on his.

  Did she think he was bothered by what she was? He smiled and brushed her cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re amazing.” She relaxed and gave him a small smile back.

  A little louder, he said, “Let’s talk after dinner.” He pulled away and left before his brain and his hormones could invent another excuse to keep him in her stateroom.

  For the evening main course, he’d collaborated with Adams to serve lamb meatballs and mushrooms in a fragrantly spiced sour cream sauce over spinach-flavored pasta. As usual, Ta’foulou took his plate away with him to the nav pod
. Haberville once again appointed herself social director, as if they were on an interstellar pleasure cruise.

  “I love traveling, so it’s always interesting to hear where people grew up,” Haberville said as she unfolded her napkin. “I was raised on Helonne, in a melting-pot neighborhood. Opposite side of the planet from the famous glassworks. Where do you hail from, DeBayaud?”

  He was sitting to her right, with Adams to her left. Luka was across from Mairwen, with one empty chair between them and the others.

  “Lumentye Bashkonen. Third Wave. Kind of a backwater. Mostly known for having a lot of rivers. Big French and Belgian population.”

  “I think I was there once,” she said. “Prime city is Moshra or something like that?”

  “Moesia,” supplied DeBayaud with a smile, perhaps pleased to have something in common with her. He seemed very taken with her.

  She turned to Adams. “What about you?”

  “Lots of places, but ended up on Vaylamoinen. University Town.” He took a bite of green pasta.

  Haberville nodded. “I had a conference there once, I think. Why a city of fourteen million is still called a town, I have no idea. I never saw so many bicycles in all my life.

  “That’s the place,” agreed Adams.

  “Foxe?” She smiled at him.

  “Kaldur Fjall on Lumi Silta. Coldest city on the coldest planet in the Concordance. Lots of snow.”

  Haberville gave a mock shiver. “I’ll bet you’re glad to live in Etonver, then.”

  He nodded his agreement. He’d been happy to leave, and happier to never go back. Too cold, and too many bad memories.

  “Morganthur? Where are you from?”

  Luka was surprised when Mairwen answered. Usually she ignored Haberville’s prying. “Duau, on Waimaakole.”

  “Never heard of it,” said Haberville. Her tone encouraged Mairwen to share more.

  Mairwen shrugged, clearly not caring. A look of annoyance crossed Haberville’s face before she turned to ask DeBayaud for more water.

  Mairwen’s answer had Luka wondering how she’d created her identity after escaping from the CPS. He remembered she’d said that memories of her childhood had been wiped clean. He couldn’t imagine how that would feel. He wouldn’t wish his childhood on anyone, but at least he could remember having one.

  Luka cleared his throat. “As soon as we leave Horvax Station tomorrow, I’d like to go over our plans for what we’ll be doing once we transit into the Insche system. We can meet in the nav pod so everyone can be there.”

  Adams and DeBayaud nodded, and so did Haberville, but she waggled a finger at him. “No more business talk over dinner. We should be enjoying ourselves while we have the chance.”

  Luka didn’t mind, since he’d gotten agreement on his request, but her assumption of authority rankled him a bit. He might have to assert leadership more forcefully for the things he cared about.

  Adams made it a point to thank Luka for coming up with the excellent dinner idea, and Haberville and DeBayaud expressed their appreciation. He was glad the others liked it, but he only really cared that Mairwen did. She would abandon it if she didn’t, but he didn’t know how to tell if she was enjoying it.

  “A glass of wine, and it’d be perfect,” said Haberville.

  Adams shook his head. “Transit-stable wines are expensive. Besides, I’m glad to have the salary bonus for being on duty for the entire mission, even if that means no alcohol or chems on board.”

  “I’m with you,” said DeBayaud. “I’m going flitter-drop skiing on Artesonraju next year, and the equipment alone is costing a fortune.”

  “Are you going with him?” asked Haberville.

  Adams snorted. “Oh hell, no.”

  DeBayaud laughed, then looked to toward Mairwen and Luka. “What sports do you like? Besides running, I mean.”

  “Just running,” said Luka. He wouldn’t have admitted to skiing even if he liked it, though he’d done a lot of it growing up. He had a feeling DeBayaud was entirely too competitive to be a relaxing companion.

  Haberville touched DeBayaud’s bare arm with her fingertips and gave him a seductive smile. “I much prefer indoor sports.” DeBayaud’s smile was wide and only for Haberville.

  From there, the conversation turned to love versus lust, with Haberville arguing they were entirely separate, or there wouldn’t be a joyhouse on every street corner of every civilized planet. That led to a discussion of the best joyhouses in Etonver and their specialties, which Luka had no experience with. Most people enjoyed an occasional joyhouse visit alone or with a partner, but after the initial hot rush of puberty, he’d discovered he needed an emotional connection to make sex enjoyable, probably because of his talent. Another reason his lovers had been few and far between.

  It was dismaying to realize he had so little in common with the rest of the team, and felt more comfortable with quiet, self-contained Mairwen. He was never going to be the hopelessly gregarious, natural leader that Leo Balkovsky had been. The best he could hope was to make the best decisions he could when needed. He took his dishes to the kitchen and made his escape.

  He left his stateroom door open so he could see when Mairwen passed by, which was only a few minutes later. Haberville went back on duty and Ta’foulou returned to his quarters, leaving Adams and DeBayaud in the kitchen. Just to be safe, he waited ten minutes more, then sealed his door and used the shared fresher door to invite Mairwen into his room. She started for the chair, but he intercepted her and pulled her into his lap, needing the contact with her. He loved the feel of her, the weight of her on him.

  “What did you think of dinner?” He was learning not to make it easy for her to give one-word answers.

  “Good.”

  Well, he was still a novice. “It’s an Icelandic recipe of my mother’s.” He let her warmth soak into him and pulled her in closer. “Do you have any memories at all of your family?” He kept his voice low and quiet.

  “No,” she said. “I used to think I remembered warm feelings, but it might have been something I made up because I needed it at the time. I was younger than most candidates.”

  “How old were you when you… started school?”

  “Fourteen.”

  It hurt to think of her so young and so alone, but he knew the weight of his pity wouldn’t be welcome. He tried for a breezy tone. “Ah, makes me feel ancient at forty-one to your thirty-seven tender years.” She smiled, and he continued. “Someday, I’d like to hear more about Mairwen Morganthur. If you’re willing.” He nibbled on her earlobe and was gratified when her flesh pebbled and her breathing became ragged. Her responsiveness sent his blood racing.

  “I’m willing,” she said, turning to give him a kiss. “But not when we’re on duty.” She kissed him again quickly and slid off his lap to sit in the chair facing him.

  Knowing he’d put it off long enough, he took a deep, slow, centering breath and closed his eyes. He constructed a detailed image of running in his mind, especially remembering how it felt in his body, then called up a milder crime scene memory, returning as often as he needed to the remembered sensation of running. It worked. It was hard work, juggling them, and he felt as cold and tired as if he’d been running a marathon in winter, but it worked. For the first time since he’d nearly lost everything, he had hope that he could get his life back, maybe find a new normal.

  His back complained, and his head throbbed. The clock said he’d been working for nearly half an hour, so no wonder he was wrecked. Mairwen had been there the whole time. “I don’t know how you have the patience for this, but I am eternally grateful that you do.”

  She gave him a slight smile and a shrug. “Better than midnight guard rounds in an ice storm.”

  The image sent a shiver through him. He wished he was doing this on a secluded tropical beach.

  “You’re cold.”

  He nodded. “Always. It’s a side effect of...” He was too tired to think of a cagey way to explain that it was an aftermath of using
his talent. The coldness, like his talent, had gotten a lot less controllable after the “collector” case. He was tired of having to dance around words and subjects because someone might be listening.

  He was really tired of not being able to spend private, off-duty time with Mairwen. He’d be glad when they could get back to Etonver and their normal lives, whatever that might bring. He stood and held out his arms to her, and she stood and melted into his parting embrace and kiss.

  Maybe he would have eventually regained control of his talent if he’d never met her, but he doubted it. He didn’t believe in fate or destiny, but he did believe he was a very lucky man.

  CHAPTER 14

  * Interstellar: “Berjalan” Ship Day 04 * GDAT 3237.041*

  Horvax Station was a mid-size orbiting platform above an unprepossessing planet of the same name. The station had enough portlocks for thirty or forty smaller ships and a dozen large commercial liners or military transports. From what they could see upon arrival, it looked about half full.

  In the interest of efficiency and keeping a low profile, Luka sent DeBayaud and Adams to pick up the xenobiologic sampling kit that he’d arranged to be sent from the manufacturer, and authorized Adams to purchase some fresh groceries. It was always good to keep the chef happy. He asked Haberville and Ta’foulou to both stay with the ship to handle the supplies and flux reload. Meanwhile, he and Mairwen would visit the station’s communications center and retrieve any incoming packets externally, rather than connecting the ship to the station directly. He also wanted to look at some extras for the med kit. No one seemed to think he was being overly cautious, or if they did, they didn’t say anything.

  The comm center was in the middle of the station, near the restaurants, stores, joyhouses, and chem shops that were always open. The commons area was decorated to look like an old Earth-style town square, but it couldn’t hide the station’s industrial origins. There were plenty of people, from station employees to corporates to passengers, but it wasn’t crowded.