Darwin

by Amanda Bridgeman

  “Hey, I had nothing to do with it,” Doc said pointing at Brown. “I bought the first round of shots. Carter and Louis took care of the rest. It was their fault!”

  There was a momentary pause, as though they just realized who they’d been speaking about. Doc sighed and leaned forward in his chair again and stared at Brown. Carrie watched as he returned the saddened stare, and she could almost feel the ghosts of their fallen comrades crowding around them.

  Doc stirred the silence, glancing at his watch. “I’d better make a move. I’ve got some paperwork to take care of.”

  Carrie and Brown looked at him curiously.

  “The UNF release forms for their bodies,” Doc answered, noticing their stares. He lifted his glass and downed the rest of his beer.

  “Where you staying tonight, Doc?” Brown asked.

  “Probably over at the Shackleton. You?”

  “Yeah, the Shackleton sounds good. I’ll see you over there later.”

  Doc stood and nodded at him, then he turned to Carrie. “Welles.”

  She gave him a sympathetic smile, but he quickly turned and left.

  Who’s ignoring who now, Doc?

  *

  Harris walked through the door of his apartment and felt a wave of relief wash over him. He was home, although it didn’t quite feel the same knowing that a third of his team would not be getting to do this. His eyes fell automatically to the frame-screen on his wall, displaying a slide show of family photographs. The current picture was one of Ty from a few years back, shooting hoops. He walked up to it and studied it carefully, looking at the laughter on his son’s face. I nearly lost your old man on this one.

  He stared at his son for what seemed an age, then sighed, and walked through to his bedroom, where he dumped his bag on the floor. He sat on his bed and looked around the room, his eyes falling to a napkin on his bedside table. He reached out and grabbed it. The words scribbled upon it were written in lipstick. It was what she had given him:

  Jazz Club Woman

  994 3000 451

  Harris eyed the phone, but decided against it. He was tired and wasn’t in the right frame of mind. He placed the napkin back on the bedside table and made his way into the bathroom.

  Unbuttoning his shirt, he examined the bandage wrapped tightly around his ribs. He began to unwind it and put it aside. He eyed the bruises spread across his right side. They were healing, slowly. He looked up to the bruises on his face; they were almost gone, but still visible enough. He thought about the Jazz Club Woman again, and figured he probably wouldn’t be that appealing to her right now anyway. He was looking more like a losing boxer than the Jazz Club Man she’d met. He thought of his son and decided he didn’t want him to see his father like this either, and he could just picture the worry on Taya’s face if she saw him now.

  He spent a good 20 minutes standing under his hot, powerful shower, thinking about his conversation with Colt earlier as he’d walked her back to the hospital. He’d offered to push her chair for the nurse and let the others walk on ahead slightly. He’d wanted a word alone with each new recruit: he needed to lock in his team for the Aurora, and stabilize it before too much time passed. For some reason, he felt an urge to hold onto his new recruits. They were in this thing together now, and he was sure they would be safer if they continued to stay together.

  “So, Colt,” he’d said, “what do you think you’ll do during your break?”

  “Go see my family, captain. I miss my mom’s cooking,” she smiled.

  Harris laughed. “I bet. It’s good to have something to look forward to when your leave comes around. You can use that as a focus when things get tough on the ship. I assume you will be returning to the Aurora, corporal.”

  “Returning, sir?” She turned her head stiffly to look at him. “I thought this was a one-off.”

  “Well, corporal, I’ve advised Command that I would like to offer you a permanent placement on the ship.”

  “Oh,” she said softly, turning back around to look ahead.

  He knew that wasn’t a good sign.

  “Corporal, this was not an ordinary mission. In fact, I can honestly say that I’ve never had one like it before. Don’t let that turn you away.”

  “Captain, why would you want me back? I didn’t really do anything, except get myself shot.”

  “That’s not true, corporal. Besides, I think you have a lot of potential. We just didn’t get the chance to explore it on this mission, but I’ve read your file and it’s very promising.”

  “Thank you, captain. I … I just …”

  “What is it, corporal?”

  “I’m not sure, anymore …”

  They continued on in silence for a moment.

  “Has this got anything to do with your brother?” Harris eventually asked her. He remembered reading about her brother’s death in her file.

  Colt nodded, still looking ahead. “My mother’s already lost one child to the UNF. After what happened to me, I’m lucky I didn’t put her through that again. I just don’t think I can do that to her, captain.”

  Harris nodded absently. “I understand, Colt. Any sort of trauma in the field can affect your confidence. Sometimes it takes a little time to spring back. I’ll leave the offer open. You think it about, and when the Aurora is ready to sail again, I’ll give you a call. How does that sound?”

  Colt nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  He noticed there was a certain lack of conviction in her voice, and he couldn’t help but feel as though he’d just lost her too.

  *

  Carrie stood in her kitchen and stared at the piece of paper in her hands. She’d found it on the floor when she’d entered her apartment. Someone had slid it beneath the door.

  Ree,

  Glad you made it back to Earth. I tried my best to keep the sun shining for your return—as good as I could from down here in Florida, anyway. Hope it was warm enough for you. Come and see me as soon as you can. I look forward to seeing you nice and tanned.

  Dad

  Carrie felt her eyes well up. She wasn’t sure what he’d done, or who he’d spoken to, but whatever it was, she knew it had kept them all from being buried. Although she’d worried about his well-being, she should’ve known better. He was smarter than that, and his years in the UNF must’ve taught him how to navigate the channels safely. She wondered what he’d done and who he’d spoken to? Whatever, he’d come through for them, and she didn’t know how she was ever going to repay him.

  Suddenly PDP rang then. She answered it. “Hello?”

  There was a hesitation before she heard Doc’s voice. “Hey,” he said quietly.

  Carrie felt her body stop for a second; her breathing, her heartbeat, her brain. “H— hi,” she managed, quickly wiping her eyes and sniffing, as though he could see her.

  There was silence for a few moments. Carrie’s mind began to race.

  “Are you okay?” he finally asked, with a hint of concern in his voice.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. What … can I do for you, lieutenant?” she asked formally.

  He exhaled in thought. “I don’t really … know … why I called.”

  “How’d you get my number?”

  “I had all the files while I did the releases.”

  “I see.” Carrie sat quietly, waiting for him to decide why he’d called.

  “Look, I just want to make sure things are okay between us,” he eventually said. “What you said today at The Vicar about … well, people aren’t stupid. They’re going to figure out something’s up, and god knows what Dale showed them all in the debrief.”

  “I thought that was why we were avoiding each other. Or was that just a nice, easy ‘out’ for you?” Her own directness took her by surprise.

  Doc was quiet a moment. “It wasn’t an ‘out’, Welles. I like my job. I’m good at my job and I’d like to stay on the Aurora. I’m also a private person. This isn’t easy for me. It’s not my style to
mix business with pleasure …”

  “Nor is it mine,” she said quickly.

  “Good! Then you understand where I’m coming from.” His voice began to sound agitated.

  This time Carrie was quiet a moment, as her mind ticked over. “So what happened on the Aurora?” she asked. “Was that just sympathy? Did you think I wasn’t going to make it back? That it wouldn’t be a problem?”

  “Yeah, that’s why I had McKinley arm the tracking device on your headset … to try and lose you,” he said sarcastically.

  Again there was silence.

  “Well, I don’t know what to think, Doc. I’m not real good at reading minds, or eyes for that matter. You keep looking at me like you’ve got something to say, but you never say it. Is there something you want to say, or am I imagining it?”

  “Look,” Doc said eventually, sighing, “we can’t have this conversation over the phone. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Will you?”

  “Goodnight, Welles.”

  He hung up the phone, and Carrie stood there staring at the wall, listening to the sound of it beeping.

  *

  Carrie’s heart raced as she stood at the door to Doc’s room. She was at the Shackleton, a middle of the road hotel, not far from the Command docks and just around the corner from The Vicar. She’d arrived in her civilian clothing, plain jeans and white singlet, so as not to draw attention, and kept eyeing her surrounds to make sure no-one saw her. She’d been to reception to check he was staying there, and sure enough he was: room 116. She stared hard at the shiny gold numbers on his door. She took a deep breath, pushed her long brown hair away from her face, then knocked gently, just in case Brown was in the next room.

  After a few seconds the door opened and Doc stood there, surprised. He was still in his uniform, albeit barefoot, his shirt open and untucked. He looked at her, leaned out into the hallway to check it was clear, then quickly ushered her through into his room.

  She stepped just inside, as he closed the door and walked slowly around her to stand a few feet away.

  “Brown and Packham are staying here, too,” he told her, eyeing her with a look of concentration. “What are you doing here?”

  “You said we couldn’t talk over the phone, so …”

  Doc let out a sigh and headed over to a small table and chairs, where a large glass of scotch on the rocks was waiting. He picked it up, took a sip, then turned back and studied her.

  “Drink?” he asked, holding up his glass.

  Carrie’s heart was racing. She nodded and walked up to him, locking eyes. She took the glass from his hand, had a sip, then handed it back to him. She tried hard not to wince as the liquor heated her throat. Doc glanced down at the glass, then back at her, giving her his best poker face. She wandered back toward the door casually, shoving her hands in her jeans pockets.

  “So what can I do for you, corporal?” he said eventually, mimicking her from their phone conversation earlier.

  She looked him in the eye and mimicked him back. “I don’t know … why I came here really …”

  He continued to look at her with his poker face, and she met his stare. She really did know why she came here, though. She wanted to put an end to the speculation. She wanted to know where she stood: good or bad, once and for all. She took a deep breath and let it out.

  “I don’t know what to do about something and I need you to help me decide,” she told him.

  He seemed to think this over for a second. “I’ll try and help, Welles, but it’s your life. Whatever it is, it’ll have to be your decision.”

  She shook her head. “Not this. This is entirely your decision.”

  Doc’s eyes betrayed his poker face with a look of confusion. “What is?”

  Carrie swallowed hard, as her breathing become shallow. “You need to decide … whether or not you’re going to kick me out. Right here, right now. Because if you don’t … then I’m going to stay and spend the night with you.”

  Doc held her gaze for a moment, still as a statue, before breaking it and looking down at his glass. He knocked back the scotch inside, then slowly turned and placed the empty glass down on the table. The silence in the room would have been stifling were it not for the low sound of the TV in the corner. Carrie glanced over at it. A Moon election candidate rally was taking center stage in the colony of Meridian; there was clapping, cheering, banners waving.

  Doc turned around to stare at her, but he still did not speak. She could see his mind wrestling with itself, his brow furrowed, his eyes looking around the room in thought. He eventually managed to get some words to his mouth.

  “Welles,” he began slowly, “I’m your senior officer. This shouldn’t be happening.”

  She gave him a slight nod in acknowledgment “But it is … and it did. Look, you can end this right now if you want to, Doc. I’ll walk out of here and I won’t be a problem for you anymore. I promise. If that’s what you want …” she said. “I just want to know either way.”

  He stood thinking again for a while. “And why is this my decision?” he eventually spoke up.

  Carrie took her hands out of her pockets and clasped them in front of her stomach, rubbing her fingers as though she was playing with an imaginary ring. “Because I already know which option I choose … I’m here, aren’t I?” she said quietly.

  Doc’s eyes wavered, and he lowered his head and ran his hand through his hair, exhaling loudly. He looked at her again, his face strong and serious, but his eyes weak.

  “What about the Aurora?” he asked her.

  “What about it?”

  “What if Harris turns around and asks you to stay on? You think he’ll let that happen if he finds out?”

  Carrie glanced down at her feet for a moment, then back up at Doc. “Captain Harris has said nothing of me staying on. And to be honest, I don’t know if that’s what I want.” She raised her hand to the stitches on the side of her face. “Maybe sitting on a rooftop away from it all isn’t such a bad thing. Maybe McKinley’s right and I shouldn’t be on the front line. I don’t know …” She shrugged. “I don’t really know what I want beyond tonight … We almost died up there, Doc. And I don’t know about you, but I’m glad we’re still alive.”

  They stared at each other for another moment, before he took a couple of slow steps toward her, his mind still in turmoil. Her breathing suddenly became shallower, but she held his stare with an equally strong face.

  “So, are you going to kick me out?” she asked, but her voice didn’t have the volume she’d planned it to.

  “Jesus, you’re stubborn …” He shook his head, stopping a few feet from her.

  She nodded back, her eyes wavering this time. Doc moved forward slowly another step, so that he was standing right in front of her now. He stared at her again, his mind still ticking over. He reached his hand up to the side of her face, gently examining her stitches and bruises.

  She looked awkwardly down at her feet. “I know I don’t exactly look the best right now … covered in bruises.” She looked up as Doc reached out his left arm, past her, for the door handle. Her heart literally thumped against her ribcage now. He paused for a moment, then she heard the click of a button, startling her. Doc had locked the door.

  He stood resting his arm against the door behind her, his eyes staring past her to the handle. His mind was still trying to fight itself, but if she wasn’t mistaken, it was slowly admitting defeat. Carrie turned her face to his.

  “Is that your decision?” she asked, her voice struggling to find the air to carry it.

  He moved his eyes to hers. “I can’t kick you out.”

  She swallowed hard. “Good …” she said breathlessly, “we never did finish that conversation we started.”

  She slowly ran her hand up his arm and over his shoulder.

  “No, we didn’t,” Doc said quietly, sliding his hand onto to her waist, “but I warn you, I’ve got a lot to say.”


  She smiled nervously as she took her other hand and slid it through his open shirt, running her fingers down over his chest, his stomach and curled it around his back, bringing herself closer to him, her lips right up to his cheek.

  “I’m all ears,” she whispered.

  He turned his body to face hers straight on, cupped her face and kissed her, slow and firm. Leaning back on the door, she wrapped both arms around his neck and brought him with her, as he kissed her again, his mouth warm, inviting, and wanting.

  She brought her hands down and slid them beneath his shirt, rolling it slowly off his shoulders, down his arms and to the floor. He pulled back slightly as it fell, and she ran her eyes and her hands over his naked torso, tanned and toned. She eyed the hair across his chest, and noticed two scars, one long, one short across his abdomen. She stepped forward, running her hands back up over his chest and kissed him firmly.

  Reaching out, he turned off the room’s lights, leaving only the TV and bedside lamp on to light the room. As they continued to kiss passionately, he slid his hands onto her waist, turned her around and started edging her backward toward the bed. She kicked off her shoes as he grabbed the bottom of her singlet and pulled it upwards. They separated long enough for him to remove her shirt and throw it on the ground.

  As their mouths reconnected, they made their way onto the bed, freeing each other from the rest of their clothes, eyes soaking up the sight of each other. His hands and mouth caressed the length of her body, and hers reciprocated, traveling over the undulating muscles of his arms, his chest, his back, enjoying the scent of his skin.

  Unable to wait any longer, she pulled him forward and he gladly lay his naked weight upon hers, gazing down with those beautiful brown eyes. She gazed back as her body nestled his, skin sliding and caressing in warmth. Their mouths sought each other out again, eagerly, firmly, and she slinked her fingers through his hair. He pulled his face away slowly, locking eyes. Then they both watched the ecstasy ripple through the other, breathing heavily as their bodies became one.

  *

  Carrie lay in the afterglow, watching him. Doc’s contented eyes washed over her, as he left her body, smiling and kissing each section as he went. He collapsed onto his back beside her, and she rolled over to face him, as they stared at each other. He threw his arm back over her head, inviting her into his side. She slid against it, listening to their heartbeats, while their breathing slowly quietened.