Test Subjects

by R S Penney

  Melissa turned.

  Her father sat on the living room couch with his head turned so that she saw his profile, frowning at the empty seat cushion next to him. “Call me naive if you like, but I never thought we would lose so many.”

  Melissa tried her best not to reply with a biting comment. “Anna says she thinks Jack is alive.” The meekness in her voice betrayed her skepticism, but she was not going to believe the worst until she had no other choice. “Let's hope.”

  “Melissa…”

  “What?”

  Her father looked up with hard eyes that called her a foolish child. “Be sensible,” he said, his eyebrows climbing upward. “Right now, Anna will cling to any excuse to keep hope alive; don't you start with that nonsense.”

  Melissa backed away from him with her arms crossed, sniffing disdainfully at that last comment. “Nonsense indeed,” she grumbled. “I get that fifteen years as a cop taught you some hard-nosed pragmatism, but there is room for hope, dad.”

  “Sure,” he said. “If you want to embrace flights of fancy.”

  “It's called having faith.”

  That brought their conversation to an abrupt end, and Melissa was more than eager to let it die. She really didn't need an argument with her dad on top of everything else that had been gnawing at her. Aiden was about ready to pull his hair out from the stress of his upcoming evaluation by a Nassai.

  Hard as it was to admit, Melissa honestly couldn't relate. Finals were looming, and she did want to make a good impression. But she had always been a straight-A student. It was never a question of if she would become a Keeper but when.

  Sitting on the edge of the windowsill, Melissa folded up on herself and shook her head. “Don't tell Claire about Jack yet,” she cautioned. “Not until we know for sure. It's been hard enough on her worrying about you and me; let's not add to it.”

  Harry made a face, then glanced wistfully toward the front door. “Claire's sleeping over with Ralita tonight,” he mumbled. “I think maybe she needs a break from her dad's new-found interest in everything she does.”

  “Maybe you need a break too.”

  “Maybe.”

  Melissa stood up with a sigh, paced over to her father and leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead. “I have to meet Aiden,” she said. “Don't wait up. I probably won't be back until after midnight.”

  “Be careful.”

  It was a quick walk to a bus terminal and then a ten-minute ride to a section of the residential zone where apartment buildings caressed the darkened sky. The purple moon was out, leaving a crisp, violet outline around every cloud.

  Aiden's building was a cylinder that rose from the hacked-off top of a cone so that the bottom levels flared outward. A ring of windows encircled each floor, many of them still alight at this early hour.

  After a brief ascent by elevator, Melissa found herself outside her boyfriend's door, knocking softly and waiting for him to answer. She hoped that he was in better shape than the last time she visited.

  The door swung inward, and Aiden's stubbly face poked through the crack. His hair was combed, and his eyes were clear. It was hard to suppress the wave of relief when she realized that he wasn't completely strung out and ready to faint. “Hey!” Aiden said. “It's about time. I was starting to worry.”

  “Are you saying I'm late?”

  “No. I would never dream of it.”

  A frown twisted her mouth, but she nodded just the same. “Good,” Melissa said, stepping into the apartment. “Because I'll have you know that I have never been late, and I don't intend to start.”

  He backed away from her with hands raised defensively, a forced smile revealing his chagrin. “I humbly withdraw my former comment,” Aiden said. “With apologies and acknowledgment of my mistake.”

  Melissa held his gaze.

  His face reddened, and he was suddenly very interested in his own shoes. “Sweet Mercy, you're really gonna press this, aren't you?” he mumbled. “Honestly, Melissa, I'm sorry; I was just-”

  Despite herself, Melissa started laughing before she stepped forward, took his face in both hands and kissed his lips. It lasted fifteen seconds at least, and by the time they broke apart, Aiden had been pushed back against the wall. This time, it was Melissa who blushed. Keeper strength. She wasn't used to it.

  Breathless, Aiden touched his nose to her forehead. “Well, that was something,” he whispered. “Did anyone ever tell you you're very good at that?”

  Melissa felt her lips curl as she breathed in the scent of him. “No,” she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. “My previous boyfriends weren't exactly the romantic type. The best I got was, 'Hey, baby, wanna watch me play video games?' ”

  “Idiots.”

  “I always thought so.”

  Aiden pulled back, squinting at her. “Well, clearly you didn't always think so,” he insisted. “Or you wouldn't have dated them in the first place.”

  “Don't be so sure. I have a penchant for dating idiots.”

  “Hey!”

  She was pleased to see that the apartment was clean, the cute little kitchen with its white cupboards almost pristine, the serving bot waiting in its alcove. Aiden's living room was just as nice with pillows neatly arranged on the couches and the blinds pulled back from a large window.

  In the distance, she saw the buildings of the downtown core glittering under Laras's violet glow. It was a beautiful sight, this city. Melissa was beginning to realize that she had developed a fondness for Leyrian architecture.

  Aiden stepped up beside her, slipping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “You're beautiful tonight,” he said. “I like your outfit.”

  Once again, she flushed and lowered her eyes to the floor. “These are old clothes,” she said. “I actually brought them here from Earth.”

  “Hmm…So, what did you want to do tonight?”

  Melissa spun around to stand in front of him, beaming at him like some love-struck teenager. Which, of course, she was. “There's a fair in Meridan Park,” she suggested. “We could go.”

  Aiden scrunched up his face, then shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “I don't really want to go out; I've been so tired after this last week.” A moment of tense silence passed before he added, “We could watch a movie.”

  “Are you seriously suggesting Netflix and chill?”

  “What?”

  Grinning as she let out a bit of quiet laughter, Melissa hung her head and reached up to play with her hair. “An Earth expression,” she mumbled. “What I'm asking is why you want to stay in on a night like this.”

  With timing so convenient that Melissa half wondered if he was faking, Aiden yawned and stifled it with his fist. “Just tired,” he said. “Lots of studying.”

  “Okay,” she relented. “We'll stay in.”

  Half an hour later, they had a movie playing on the screen of SmartGlass that was bolted to the living room wall. Some comedy, set at a university, about a young woman who couldn't choose between two men. It was a Leyrian film. Melissa was growing used to the idea that there was a lot of overlap between the stories Leyrians told and those that she had read and watched back home.

  She sat with her back against Aiden's chest, his arms around her tummy as she rested her head on his shoulder. Unexpectedly, his hands slid upward and began caressing her back.

  Shutting her eyes, Melissa breathed in a slow, steady rhythm. “Mmm,” she said. “That's nice.”

  His lips brushed the side of her neck, and that got her attention. She was now very much aware of the fact that she was alone with a hot guy, in his apartment. And her body was quite happy with that arrangement. But at the risk of becoming a cliché in a Christina Aguilera song, her heart was saying no. “Stop…” Melissa said through a fit of giggles.

  He kissed her again, moving slowly upward until he was nibbling on her ear. If he had heard her, he gave no sign of it. “Aiden,” she protested. “Not now. Come on. Let's watch the movie.”

  �
��I've been really stressed,” he whispered.

  Melissa felt her eyebrows climb. “I would imagine,” she said, nodding. “That's why going out would have been a good idea. You need to unwind.”

  “You could help me with that.”

  She pulled away from him, then bent over with an elbow on her knee, touching fingertips to her forehead. “Aiden, I don't want this right now,” she hissed. “You know how I feel about sex. I want to wait.”

  His silhouette frowned at the back of her head as if he wasn't entirely sure what to make of her objection. “Yeah, okay,” he relented. “Let's go back to watching the movie.”

  Which was exactly what they did…for a while. Melissa lost herself in the story. She more than half expected some sub-plot about a nasty female rival for the main character, but the film was blessedly free of that.

  Aiden kissed her lightly on the cheek.

  His hands slipped around her belly, holding her tight, and then he was kissing her neck again. Melissa decided to allow it, so long as he didn't go too far. She didn't really mind kisses. It was actually quite pleasant until one of his hands slipped under her shirt.

  Melissa stood up. Pulling free of his grip was as easy as ripping wet tissue paper. Bonding a Nassai had its advantages. When she whirled around, he was staring up at her with hurt and confusion on his face.

  Standing as tall as she could, Melissa kept her expression smooth but shook her head slowly. “Apparently someone is having trouble with the word 'no,' ” she said. “So, I think I'm gonna go home.”

  Aiden went red, then let his head drop. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled. “It's just that I'm very stressed.”

  “And that somehow trumps my decision?”

  “No.” He seemed to acquire a little backbone as he got to his feet, puffed out his chest and then exhaled. “But I have to admit I'm kind of annoyed. Even after everything you've learned since my people met yours, you're still gonna cling to religion?”

  “I don't think it matters why I said no,” she said. “All that matters is that I said no.”

  “Well, sure, but…”

  “No. No buts,” Melissa said. In one quick spin, she turned around and marched out of the living room. “I'll see you in class. Take some time and think about it, okay? I don't want to date someone who doesn't respect me.”

  A five-minute walk brought Harry to the spot the residents of his street had chosen for their block party, but it took almost half an hour to make himself go in. He had never been shy – in fact, back in high school, he was a fixture at every party – but he just wasn't sure what he would say to these folks.

  One thing he had learned since coming to Leyria was that people had not just one but two or three careers that they seemed to alternate between. A doctor might take time off to help build a community garden. A computer programmer might also become an accomplished sculptor. And here was Harry Carlson: ex-cop and full-time dad. Where would that leave him in a conversation?

  Dressed in jeans and a sport coat, Harry stepped into the small park and paused. Come on, man, he scolded himself. It won't be that bad. He had seen this place before, of course, but once again, the architecture reminded him that this wasn't home.

  A large duroplastic structure, shaped almost like a dome with arch-shaped holes in each side stretched over a concrete patio where perhaps two dozen people congregated. Most were about his age or younger.

  A thirty-something guy with a mop of dark curls that perfectly matched his olive complexion stood off to the side with a drink in hand, gesticulating as he engaged some tiny brunette in conversation.

  Another cluster of half a dozen people stood in the middle of the pavilion, all deep in animated conversation. He saw a tanned woman with striking silver hair nodding as she spoke about her child's teacher. That made Harry think of Sora, and he tried to keep her out of his mind.

  He strode across the pavilion.

  On the other side, he found a set of steps that led to a public pool where another ten people swam in the glowing blue waters. The short, stubby cypress trees that formed lines on either side were decorated with strings of white lights.

  Covering his mouth with the tips of two fingers, Harry shut his eyes and drew in a breath. Maybe coming here was a bad idea, he thought. If I leave now, I can still slip out quietly.

  He had gone out to take his mind off Jack. If the boy was really dead…There were times when Harry wanted to shake his fist at the sky and demand to know just how many people he would have to lose. Not that he expected anyone to hear that prayer. But Jack had become like a son to him. Or…Well, maybe a nephew. Right then, he felt as though his chest might cave in.

  “You look like a cornered animal.”

  Harry twisted around to find Sora standing a few feet away, beneath the duroplastic overhang. The woman he was trying so very hard to put out of his mind looked gorgeous in a strapless orange dress. “Is everything all right, Harry?”

  “I'm just thinking about my friend.”

  “I see…”

  Stepping forward with his hands in his jacket pockets, Harry nodded to her. “Yeah,” he replied in a hoarse whisper. “He's one of the Keepers I used to work with…and I think he might have died in the line of duty.”

  Before he even realized it, Sora's hand was on his cheek. She snatched it back in an instant, almost as if his face was a pot of boiling water she had touched without thinking. “Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  She was gazing at him with large, dark eyes that glistened on the verge of tears. “Is there anything I can do?” Now it was her voice that trembled. “Here, sit down. I'll go get you something to drink.”

  Thirty seconds later, she had him sitting in a plastic chair just outside the pavilion, bent forward with his hands on his knees. He shook his head slowly. Crying was not an option; Harry Carlson was not the sort of guy who made a scene at a party.

  When Sora returned, she handed him a glass of something that looked and smelled like red wine – though, on Leyria, it could be anything – and sat down beside him. “Do you need to talk about it?”

  Harry felt his lips curl as he stared into his lap. “No, that's okay,” he said. “I came here to get my mind off it.”

  “Right.”

  “We don't know for certain that he's dead.”

  “Well, that's something.”

  Harry brought the glass to his lips, closed his eyes and took a sip. Yes, it was red wine. “I stopped by the classroom the other day.” Why on Earth he would bring this up was beyond him, but he seemed to be fumbling for words. “Timonis was teaching. That took me by surprise.”

  The cheeky grin on Sora's face made him feel more than a little embarrassed. “Do teachers not have free days on your world?” she asked. “Companion, it's a wonder your children learn anything.”

  “No, they do…It's just.”

  “Yes?”

  “We have this thing called a weekend,” Harry explained. “You work five days, and then you get two off.”

  Sora had a very thoughtful expression as she stared off into space. “Interesting,” she mumbled with a quick shake of her head. In many people, that would be a small tell that she meant the opposite of what she said. “It's very regimented.”

  Harry forced a smile, peering into his wine glass. The dark liquid rippled, distorting his faint reflection. “Well, at least it's easy to remember,” he said. “I can never figure out how people here plan anything.”

  “Worker cooperatives,” Sora replied. “The teachers in my school have a meeting every month where they plan who would like to work what days, make compromises…”

  “Right.”

  “So, what brought you by the classroom?”

  Harry offered a small shrug of his shoulders, then took another sip of his drink. “I thought I would have lunch with Claire,” he said. “I wanted to spend some time with her, though I think I might have overdone it. She actually went to spend the night at a friend's house to get away f
rom me.”

  Sora's laughter was positively delightful. Damn it, he wasn't supposed to think about her in that way. “Finding the right balance is difficult.”

  “Yeah,” Harry agreed. “And do you wanna know what the worst part is? You go through it once, and you think you know the rules. 'Hey, I've seen all this before. I'm an ace parent by this point.' But the next kid hits that age…and everything's different.”

  “Haha.” With exquisite elegance, Sora rose and offered him her hand. “You need to do something fun,” she said. “Come on, I'll teach you to play Shir'ad.”

  “What's that?”

  “You have an earth game called Chess?”

  Harry nodded.

  “Much the same,” she said with a devilish smile. “But harder.” She took his hand and practically pulled him out of his chair. “Come.”

  Chapter 19

  “Damn it!”

  Anna's fist came down on the SmartGlass desk. It was a lucky thing the stuff was designed to be durable – some SmartGlass window panes were strong enough to deflect particle beams – because she was in no mood to be gentle.

  Her mouth dropped open, and she shook her head. “Damn it, damn it, damn it.” She sat forward with her elbows on the desk and buried her face in her hands. “Computer, go back to the beginning and analyze the logs again.”

  “Problem?”

  When she looked up, Cassiara Seyrus stood just outside the door to her office with an uneasy expression. The woman took a step forward. “It looks like you're about ready to pull your hair out.”

  Anna rolled her chair backward until it practically smashed into the window behind her, then stood up with a sigh. “I've been going over the sensor data,” she said, gesturing to her desk. “The logs Jack sent us.”

  “Find anything?”

  “Nothing,” Anna rasped. “I've searched for sensor pings, SlipSpace transmissions, stray warp trails from one of their small craft. Anything to indicate where they might be going.”