by Neal Jones
"I'm sure I will," Jeanette said, breezing past her mother on her way to the kitchen.
Laura, Marc and Jeanette took their places at the table while Keith dished out the portions of lamb and risotto. Laura started to pour the wine, but when she came to Jeanette's glass her daughter stopped her.
"None for me, thanks. I'm going to have more scotch."
"I'll have some wine," Marc said, holding out his glass.
"You haven't finished your scotch," Laura pointed out. And to Jeanette, "Be careful. That stuff is strong."
"So now you're concerned with how much I drink?"
Marc held out his empty tumbler. "All done. Now may I have some wine?"
"You've never had strong liquor before," Laura said, filling the commodore's wine glass and then Keith's. "I was just warning you."
Keith refilled Jeanette's glass. "Why don't we all just relax and enjoy the meal, eh?"
"Yes, good idea," Marc agreed.
"I've had whiskey before, mother. Several times in fact. The first time I tried it was on a field trip with my junior class in high school. Remember when we went to Drack City for a weekend? Brooke snuck a bottle of her father's Southern Comfort in her backpack." Jeanette sipped her scotch and then smiled at Laura.
Laura smiled back. "Yes, I remember that trip. You were obviously careful enough not to get too drunk because I never got a call from your chaperones."
Marc snickered. "That's nothing compared to what Laura did during her...sophomore year, was it?"
Laura shot him a dark glance as she sliced her lamb. "That's enough, thank you. I think it's time we changed the subject."
Marc drained a third of his wineglass, and then speared a chunk of lamb. "So you're having the wedding at the Everest resort? Isn't that where you said you wanted to have our wedding? It was that night when I proposed, later, after we...you know...and you said that you thought we should have the ceremony in the Everest Mountains."
Keith coughed in mid-chew and reached for his wine. Laura was about to take a bite of her risotto, but the fork paused halfway to her mouth.
Jeanette swallowed her scotch and said, "So, mom...what was it exactly that you did in high school that I don't know about? 'Cause in the last few days Marc's been telling me all kinds of stuff about you that I never knew."
"I just think it's interesting," Marc continued, "because I'm thinking that you didn't have your previous two ceremonies there, so why this time around? Keith, what's different about you?"
"Marc, stop it!" Laura's tone was sharp enough to startle all of them, herself included, and she cleared her throat. "I think you've had enough to drink this evening. Jeanette, would you get him some water please?"
"You're right, I'm sorry," Marc apologized. "Your little announcement earlier was...unexpected, that's all." He accepted the glass from his daughter. "Thank you."
"This risotto is delicious," Jeanette said to Keith.
"Thank you. Marc, I was hoping to get a tour of the station while I was here. The military sections, I mean."
Marc blinked. "Uh, what did you have in mind?"
"Oh, don't worry. I was thinking of your engineering sector and the command deck. And maybe AGC." He smiled sheepishly. "I've always wanted to see a hornet take off and land."
"Military aircraft is one of his hobbies," Jeanette volunteered.
Marc nodded. "Sure. I think I can arrange that."
Laura, who had polished off her glass of wine and was filling it once more, said, "He likes more than just the aircraft. He likes to read about military history. Famous battles and all that."
Marc reached for his wine glass. "My father was the same way! I never found them as fascinating as he did. He was just happy that I was carrying on the family tradition."
"There you go," Keith joked, looking at Jeanette. "You could enlist in the navy."
Laura, who had been reaching for her wine, jerked, and her hand knocked over the glass. Jeanette, Marc and Keith quickly reached for napkins to mop up the spill.
"Yeah, mom," Jeanette said wryly. "That's a pretty good career, don't you think?"
"I think we should change the subject," Laura curtly replied. She walked to the sink to get a rag while Keith cleared the dishes from the middle of the table.
"Yeah," Marc said, helping Keith. "Gods forbid that anybody related to you have a career in the military."
"If that's what you truly want, Jeanette, then I have no problem with it."
"I was kidding, mom."
Marc watched Laura toss the rag into the reclamator and then help Keith put the plates and silverware back on the table. "I think you would make a fine officer, Jeanette. As long as you stay as focused and driven as your mother, you'll have no problem graduating top of your class."
"I think it's time for dessert," Keith interrupted.
"No. Sit." Laura reached for the risotto dish and scooped a serving onto her plate. "We're not finished with dinner."
"I am." Marc folded his napkin and stood. "Keith, it was nice meeting you. Jeanette, shall we do lunch tomorrow?"
"Sure."
"Marc, wait," Laura said, but he was already leaving the kitchen. She rose and followed him.
Jeanette and Keith took bites of lamb, washing them down with scotch.
"So..." Jeanette said finally, "have you read the new biography of General Aubern? It's number three on Zalla's bestseller list right now."
"No, no I haven't," Keith replied. "I've heard it's rather dry..."
"Oh really?"
Keith sighed and nodded, staring morosely at his plate.
( 3 )
"What the hell is the matter with you?" Laura demanded, trailing Marc out of her quarters.
"With me??" He turned on her as soon as the doors closed. "What was the point of this dinner, Laur?"
"I wanted you, me and Jeanette to have dinner together."
"And Keith."
"It would have been rude not to invite him."
"Okay. Mission accomplished. I met Keith. Goodnight." He started to walk away.
"Headed to Grax's for a few more sunrises?"
"Fuck you, Laura!" He turned on her once more, closing the distance between them with such speed that she took an involuntary step back. "I asked you to stay on Exxar-One, and you just blew me off. And now you force me to sit through a meal with your fiancée and listen to you talk about your wedding plans. Your real purpose tonight was to rub your engagement in my face. So fuck you and fuck Keith!"
"You asked me to stay because you're still in love with me! What did you think would happen? That I would suddenly call off the wedding, drop my entire life back on Mars, and come running back to you as if the last twenty-three years never happened?"
"Of course not! That would require a sacrifice on your part, and the Laura Sysko I know is too selfish for that! You made that clear a week after I proposed. You said that you had already made plans to live in Mars while finishing graduate school, and I still had one more year at the academy before graduating, and that's when we talked about the ceremony again. About having it on Mars at the Everest resort. And then I asked what would happen after I graduated and received my first posting. You remember what you said?"
Laura scowled, crossing her arms and staring defiantly at Marc. "I told you that we should wait and see, that I would probably stay on Mars for a couple more years because I had submitted an application to the FCE."
"Yes, that's right. And it was the way you said it that made it clear you weren't going to make the sacrifice, that you already had your career planned. It was going to be up to me to make the big sacrifice and adjust my career plans if we were going to have any kind of a future together. And even after I was willing to make that sacrifice, you still turned around and threw it all back in my face. You ran out like a fucking coward.
"So I'm done, Laur. I'm done with you, done with Keith. It was nice meeting him, you two have a nice life together on Gateway Prime and wherever else you end up. There's no more need for yo
u and I to talk. I'm more than happy to continue my relationship with Jeanette, but you and I are done. Don't call, don't write, don't speak to me unless it pertains to the gateway or some other official business. Clear enough for you?"
Laura nodded. She watched him disappear around the corner and then returned to her quarters. Just before entering the kitchen she paused long enough to wipe her eyes, smooth back her hair and compose herself.
"Everything okay?" Keith asked as Laura returned to her seat and picked up her napkin.
"Yes, everything's fine. Jeanette, would you like a refill on your scotch?"
"Um...sure." The glass was only half empty. "Keith and I were just discussing the new biography of General Aubern." She shot him a meaningful glance.
"Oh...yes, right. I've been thinking of downloading it to my reader, but I'm not sure it's worth the full price. Jordan is one of those authors who's quite dry and prefers a rambling narrative. Not one of my favorites."
They both waited for Laura to say something, but she was preoccupied with slicing her lamb.
"Mom?" Jeanette prompted. "Are you sure everything's all right?"
Laura looked up and smiled. "Yes. Really. I'm fine. In fact, I think we should go see a movie later. The three of us. How does that sound?"
Jeanette and Keith exchanged another glance. "That sounds like fun," Keith replied. "In fact, I think I'll go look up the listings right now and see what's playing."
After he left the kitchen Jeanette turned to her mother. "Mom, what did he say?"
"I don't want to talk about it, sweetheart." She didn't look up as she said it, carefully slicing another piece of lamb and washing it down with wine.
Jeanette nodded, respecting her mother's request. Keith returned with a printout of movie listings, and they all pretended to be excited to go see a movie.
Chapter 24
____________________
( 1 )
"Danny, can you hear me?" Pause. "Hey, Drake, can you hear me?"
"Loud and clear, over."
"Commander, I think something's wrong. Hardin's not –"
"I'm here, Neva."
"Dan, are you all right?"
Silence. "I can't...I just can't do this anymore. I'm sorry."
"Do what?"
"Goodbye."
"Danny, no!"
Background noise, then a burst of static.
"Foxfire, what is your situation?"
No answer.
"Lieutenant Corwin, I repeat, what is your situation? Please respond, over!"
"Uh...Lieutenant Hardin..."
"Yes, what about him?"
"He's dead, sir."
"Dead?? How? What happened?"
"I...I don't know, sir. I'm heading back to the hive. I'll have a full report for you then. Corwin out."
A barely audible click. The end of the recording. A brief silence.
"Danny, can you hear me?" Pause. "Hey, Drake, can you hear me?"
"Loud and clear, over."
"Commander, I think something's wrong. Hardin's not –"
Commodore Gabriel didn't hear the door chime. It had nothing to do with the volume of the playback, which wasn't very loud. He was passed out on the sofa in his living room, the empty bottle of brandy lying on its side, a large stain on the carpet beneath it.
The chime played again. And then a third time. After another pause the doors opened, and Commander Decev crossed the threshold. "Oh gods," she muttered. She crossed to Gabriel's desk and shut off the audio playback. "Marc! Wake up!" She walked to the couch, picked up the empty bottle, and then roughly nudged her commanding officer. "Marc!" she yelled in his face.
"Whaa..." He rolled away from her on his side. Mariah slapped his cheek, and Marc's eyes flew open as he jerked his head up. "Hey...what..." he said groggily.
Decev helped him into a sitting position, and she slapped both cheeks again, but more gently this time. "Marc, you awake?"
He blinked, shook his head, and then batted her hand away from his face. "Yes. Yes, I'm awake! Knock it off!" He coughed, cleared his throat, coughed again, and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "What?" He looked around, bleary-eyed, finally settling his gaze on his science officer. "What time is it?"
"Almost oh-nine-hundred."
"Shit!" Marc started to rise, but dizziness forced him back onto the couch.
"Just sit," Mariah sighed. She tapped her commlink. "Decev to Sackoff."
"Go ahead, commander."
"Commodore Gabriel isn't feeling well. I'm going to have the doctor take a look at him. You've got the con for at least the next hour."
"Understood. Sackoff out."
Mariah tapped her link a second time. "Decev to Rosenberg."
"Rosenberg."
"Doctor, I need to see you in Gabriel's quarters ASAP."
"I'm in the middle of something here, commander. Be there in ten. Rosenberg out."
Marc had succeeded in staying on his feet, and he started for the bedroom. "Thanks for your concern, but –"
Mariah yanked on Marc's shirt collar. "If the next words out of your mouth are 'I'm fine', I'm going to punch you!" She spun him around and shoved him back onto the couch.
"What the hell??" the commodore protested.
"My sentiments exactly. You're not going anywhere until Ben gets here, so just make yourself comfortable. I'll get you something to puke into if you need it."
"No, but I would like a glass of water."
Mariah walked to the dispenser behind the desk. "I assume you had more than just that one bottle of brandy."
"I had dinner at Laura's last night. But the evening started at Grax's."
"Batarian sunrises?"
Marc smiled weakly. "You know me too well."
She handed him a glass of water. "Yes. Unfortunately I do."
He drank slowly, taking small sips and massaging his temple. "Try not to sound too condescending when you say that."
"Well what do you expect?"
Marc scowled but said nothing.
"So you got to meet Keith, huh? What's he like?"
"I need to pee." Marc raced for the bedroom before Mariah could stop him. She pressed the com panel, but he had sealed the door.
Marc peeled off his clothes as he walked into the latrine, and he set the temperature of the shower to almost scalding. He sat on the floor of the stall, his back against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest. Mariah was right to be angry with him. Before now he'd only shown up late to three or four staff meetings, and it didn't help that he had only a vague memory of last night. He had stopped at Grax's again after leaving Laura's, and that was the last he remembered. He must have bought the brandy there, and he made it back to his quarters okay. Maybe Grax had helped with that, but if the Orethian had stayed to have a drink or two with Gabriel, there was no evidence of it. Marc hadn't even bothered with a glass apparently, and he was damn lucky he wasn't bent over the drain vomiting right now.
A soft chime from the shower's com panel indicated that at least eighteen minutes had passed, and the computer would automatically be shutting off the water soon. Twenty minutes was the ration limit per day per occupant for all living quarters on Exxar-One, and the commodore sighed as he forced himself to stand. He sat on the toilet as he dried himself, and he fetched another glass of water from the dispenser next to the sink. But he drank it too fast, and all of a sudden he was bent over the toilet bowl, throwing up that as well as the water from the earlier glass.
Marc brushed his teeth and then walked naked into his bedroom where he stood in front of his closet for another ten minutes, trying to decide whether it was worth it or not to put on his uniform. He was already going to mark this on his record as a sick day, so there really wasn't any point to the uniform. Or maybe he should only take a half day. But that would look even more suspicious, and just confirm to his senior staff that he had spent another night swimming to the bottom of a bottle.
By the time he emerged from the bedroom, dressed in a t-shirt and pants, b
arefoot, Ben was the only one waiting for him.
"Where's Mariah?"
"I told her it would be better if just you and I talk." The doctor held out a steaming mug. "Coffee?"
"Yes, thank you." Marc took a sip, grimacing at the taste. It was black. But he decided it was better this time without sugar, and he settled himself back on the couch.
"So..." Ben said after a moment. "How do you want to do this?"
"You mean should we have an argument, or should you just pull rank now and put me on forced medical leave?"
"I'd rather not. I've only had to do it once before, and it's not something you want on your permanent record."
"You mean I'm not the first commanding officer you've served under to suffer from addiction?"
"No, it wasn't a commanding officer. It was a doctor on my staff. The demerit caused his promotion to be postponed, and he blamed me for it."
Gabriel sighed. "I know I should be talking to a therapist, Ben, but it seems like a waste of time. How is talking about it going to get the nightmares to go away? How is reliving my torture going to make my scar stop throbbing? It still hurts, whether or not you believe me."
"Actually, I do. After Mariah told me about your conversation the other day, I've started to rethink some of the conversations you and I had a few weeks ago." The doctor moved to the easy chair and sat back, propping his feet on the coffee table. "I don't think this is just about the nightmares anymore."
"Oh really?"
"I think you were starting to heal, whether you believed it or not, both physically and emotionally, but then Doctor Sysko arrived on the station. And she brought Jeanette with her. And suddenly you had another wound reopened before the other one was completely healed."
Marc frowned. "We're talking about emotional wounds, right?"
Ben nodded. "Yes. But it's been proven that emotional scars as well as stress can affect the healing of physical wounds." He leaned forward, setting his mug on the table. "Marc, all I want is for you to take one week. That's it. Ten days. You don't have to talk to anyone, you can hide in your quarters the entire time, I don't care. I'm also willing to give you some medication to help you sleep, as long as you promise me you'll keep the drinking to a minimum."
