The Astronomer

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The Astronomer Page 22

by Charmaine Pauls

“Ah. But that would have spoiled the fun. Why be boring, right Fraya?” He reached out and touched her hair. “I may call you Fraya?”

  Instinctively, she took a step back to avoid the contact. The intimate touch was inappropriate. There was something about his smooth voice and measuring stance she didn’t trust.

  “I prefer Dr. Riber, Professor,” she said respectfully, but sternly.

  His lips puckered. He assessed her for a moment longer before he gave a small bow. “As you wish, Doctor. But you very much surprised me too.”

  He was waiting for her to ask how, but she kept quiet as she moved away from him, to the other side of the room.

  “You are much prettier in real life than in your photo,” he offered.

  She stopped in front of the cubicle housing the remains of a nineteenth century meteorite to look at him. The yellow light made his blond hair seem bleached.

  He appeared pensive, serious, but his voice sounded amused. “I love your contrast. Such light hair with such dark eyes. And so ... small ... yet so strong. So fragile, yet so intelligent.”

  “If I need a curriculum vitae for an acting career I’ll let you know, since you’re making it seem quite dramatic.”

  He laughed softly again. “So sweet, and such claws.”

  She moved to the sixth century display. “Do you mind if I visit the laboratory?”

  Only his eyes followed her. “I don’t remember activating your clearance for these quarters.”

  “I was given permission to do a tour, just until ten.”

  The quirk of his lips told her he didn’t believe her, but he uncrossed his arms and held out his hand to indicate a door to his left.

  Fraya moved on his wordless invitation. She entered a sterile white room with long, stainless steel counters and flat screen computer monitors. This is where the senior cosmologist, Michael Davidson, and research assistant, Eva McKay, worked, but their workstations were empty. Maybe they were on their tea break. It was a subsidized leg of the operation, advocated by the International Association of Science and Geology, where data collected from astronomical observations were fed into programs of geological significance, attempting at offering solutions to the world’s most pressing, unsolved questions, such as when the earth was created, and the effect of meteorites crashing through the atmosphere. And this is where her secret passion, obsession almost, lay. But it wasn’t something she could disclose. Not yet. Not until she had enough proof to warrant operational research of her theory.

  Fraya become aware of Andrews’s penetrating stare and tore her attention away from the data she glimpsed on the screens.

  “Still working on finding lost civilizations?” she asked, keeping her voice casual.

  “Among other things.”

  She smiled. Of course he would be evasive. The department kept their missions top secret. They only shared information if another station in a different part of the world could complement their data. Fraya believed this was part of the reason why it took longer than needed to find the answers they were still searching for. Too much exclusivity and unhealthy ambition for power and glory divided the universal astronomy work forces. Despite the fact that they all worked under the same banner, one flag flying over them, different units still perceived themselves to be separate from each other. Maybe what the station needed was a new human resources executive instead of new scientists, she thought grimly.

  A red light flickered on the security monitor and both Fraya and Andrews’s attention turned in that direction. They watched Ben Saunders entering the display room on the screen.

  A second later, Ben stood in the door of the lab, his expression tight. He nodded at Andrews, but offered Fraya no greeting.

  “In my office,” was all Saunders said before he stepped aside for Fraya to follow the direction in which his finger pointed.

  “Nice to meet you, Doctor,” Andrews said. “If you need a shoulder to cry on after the boss has whipped you, you know where to find me. But please call beforehand. No more sneaking around.”

  Neither Saunders nor she said anything until he had closed his office door behind them.

  “What the hell were you doing?” Saunders said.

  Fraya would have preferred him screaming. The quietness of his voice was much more threatening.

  “I just wanted to see the building.”

  “You’ll see what I tell you to, and when I tell you to.”

  She shrugged. “Fine. Bite me.”

  Saunders narrowed his eyes. “You won’t get far with that attitude.” He brought his face an inch closer to hers. “I needn’t remind you that your posting was forced upon me. I won’t look very far for reasons to deport your disrespecting ass straight back to Zone 102.”

  Fraya didn’t budge. “I get it.”

  “Good.” He stared down at her for another second before he rounded his desk and flopped down into his chair. “Your project is on your desk. I assume you’ve familiarized yourself with your duties, and what will be expected of you. If you have any questions, I don’t have time to answer them, so I hope you can swim, because you better jump into the deep end and get started.”

  Fraya puffed her cheeks. “Just as well. I don’t like a boss who breathes down my neck.”

  Saunders glared at her. “Anything else?”

  “Obviously not.”

  “Then why are you still stealing the oxygen in my office?”

  Fraya smiled. “Thanks for your support,” she said, before leaving his office and walking to her own.

  For the next few hours she went over her retired predecessor’s research and loose ends that needed to be tied up. A knock on her door made Fraya glance up from her computer screen.

  Tracy entered the room, her step light. “I waited in the canteen.”

  Fraya checked her watch. “Oh.” She hadn’t noted the hour. “Sorry, I got busy.”

  “Come on.” Tracy motioned with her head toward the door. “You need to fuel up. Food’s not that bad here.” Her grin said otherwise.

  Fraya followed Tracy downstairs to the recreational area that encompassed the staff restaurant; the kitchen; a bar fitted with a pool table; a games room including darts, chess tables and a rock climbing wall; a gym; as well as a small indoor garden and a swimming pool.

  Fraya stopped to admire the green area and the inviting, blue water of the Olympic size pool.

  “Nice, isn’t it?” Tracy said, watching Fraya with a smile.

  “I didn’t expect this kind of luxury.”

  “If you work in the middle of the driest, most secluded desert in the world for two weeks straight, believe me, this becomes more of a necessity than a luxury.”

  They fell into the back of the buffet queue.

  “You’re based here permanently, though.” Fraya said.

  Tracy handed her a tray and eating utensils. “I visit Santiago at least once every six weeks. When I go, I go for two weeks at a time. Otherwise I’ll go stark raving mad.”

  “And Ben ... Mr. Saunders not?”

  “It’s alright to call him Ben. He’s not formal at all. Ben takes a week at a time, sometimes less. The isolation doesn’t bother him so much.”

  Fraya scanned the variety of hydrated vegetable cubes, hydroponic salads, and synthetic meats. She dished up a portion of Greek salad and grilled chicken.

  They took their trays to a table close to the green zone and sat down.

  “How did you and Ben meet, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Tracy smiled. “I know what you’re thinking. Whatever did she see in him, right?” Fraya looked up quickly, but Tracy’s eyes twinkled indulgently. “Don’t worry. Everyone wonders. His bark’s worse than his bite. He seems a tough nut to crack at work, but at home he’s nothing but a puppy dog.” Fraya raised her eyebrow at that. “Honestly, at home he’s happy to lay down the boss’ hat. It’s not an easy job, not that I’m defending him,” Tracy added quickly.

  Fraya opened a bottle of sparkling water and took a sip. “That
still doesn’t answer my question.”

  “About how we met?”

  Fraya nodded, biting into the chewy chicken.

  “I attended a workshop in Zone 86, the old Atlanta, when I spotted him on the street. He was home visiting his parents. There was this funny thing that happened to my tummy. It kind of somersaulted. I plucked up the courage to follow him into a coffee shop and walked straight over and asked him out on a date. We went out a couple of times and I just knew he was the one. Had our tests run and would you believe that we turned out perfectly compatible?”

  “And then you moved here?”

  “When Ben mated me I left my hometown, New York, to come out to the desert. The apartment we have in the residence is nice, cozy, but I would have gone out of my mind staying there all day, with nothing to do, so the organization offered me this job.”

  Fraya swallowed the chicken down with more water. “And you enjoy it?”

  “I like it. I was trained as secretary. Never thought I’d end up in this zone, though here I am.”

  “Don’t you miss the city?”

  Tracy turned her eyes toward the ceiling. “Parts of city life, yes, but I could never live without Ben, not for more than a few days. Even the times I go to Santiago I’m crazy for him after three days.”

  Fraya focused on her plate. Would she last without Emilio? Without the hormone treatment? She was aware of a discomfort in her body, but it was faint enough to ignore. Dr. Lavigne couldn’t tell her exactly how long Emilio’s semen would act as effective remedy to ward off the arousal until it became too strong to ignore. She only hoped it would last a full eight days, before she was due back in Santiago, because she needed to focus on her work, not on her lover, the man who mated her for sex.

  Fraya noticed Tracy’s eyes on her. “What?”

  “You’ve mated quite the hunk.” A mischievous light danced in the other woman’s eyes.

  “Yes, well, he can be a demanding hunk,” Fraya said.

  Tracy raised her brow. “Possessive?”

  Fraya pushed a piece of lettuce around on her plate. “Somewhat.”

  “He did strike me as the type, the way he didn’t want you around the rest of the guys. I find it adorable.”

  Fraya snorted. “I don’t see Ben running around trying to seclude you in some cloister.”

  “No,” Tracy shook her head, her eyes shining, “but he’s the boss. No one will dare even glance in my direction.”

  Fraya frowned. “Do they?”

  “They’re only men. What do you expect? Some of them are here for months on end.”

  “They should only employ mated men. That should alleviate problems.”

  “And where will all the female mates live, and what will they do?” Tracy shook her head again. “I think me being the exception was enough for the organization, and only because Ben was invaluable to them.”

  “I’ve read the reports on him,” Fraya admitted. “He seems to be a valuable asset.”

  “Rather valuable in people management, and that’s what you need from the man at the top who is supposed to keep these men happy and aligned. Believe me, it gets real tough at times.”

  Fraya stared at Tracy. “You mean to say Ben is good at people skills?”

  “Yeah, give me that look, I know you don’t believe me, but you’ll see for yourself. Want dessert?”

  Fraya shook her head. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

  “So, where did you meet Emilio?”

  “Zone 11.”

  Fraya’s hesitation had lasted a second too long, because Tracy said, “Why am I sensing that there’s more to your story than a straight-forward mating?”

  “It’s a mating. What else could there be to one?” Fraya got up. “Excuse me. Thanks for showing me the ropes around the canteen.”

  Tracy looked up at her. “Let me know if you need anything, here or at home.”

  “Thanks.” Fraya stared at her for a moment. “When did Emilio start the construction of the condo?”

  “Why, nearly a year ago, as you must be well aware.”

  Fraya didn’t hide her surprise. He must have started it shortly after her engagement to Gene, and all this time, neither Emilio nor Gene had said a thing.

  “Oh,” Tracy sighed, “your man is full of surprises. Can I send Ben over for lessons?”

  Fraya rolled her eyes and grabbed her bottle of water. “See you later,” she called over her shoulder as she made her way to the stairs, aware of the restaurant goers’ eyes following her step.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  There was another reason for Fraya’s hasty departure from the recreational area. It wasn’t just work. Her hand went to her stomach as the first onslaught of arousal set in. Gritting her teeth she went back to her office and shut the door. She would have liked to question Tracy more about the condo, but talking about Emilio didn’t seem to help the feelings that crept up on her.

  Determined to stay focused on the task at hand, she opened a schedule on her computer and worked on an action plan of theories, mathematical calculations and physical observations necessary to conduct her mission. Twenty minutes later she grunted as a spasm hit her. She cursed. Damn Emilio and this strange mating heat. Damn him for denying her the hormones. But she was set on proving him wrong. She could function without him, without needing his body so bad it was burning her alive.

  She looked up in frustration as her door opened. A lanky man with copper hair and light brown eyes regarded her cautiously.

  “Is this a bad time?” Timothy Walton said.

  She recognized the assistant appointed to her from the photo on his file.

  Trying to smile, she waved him in. “I was going to come and see you.”

  “My office is two doors down the hall,” he said, pointing a thumb in that direction. “I just got on duty. Was going to get some coffee and come introduce myself. Want some?”

  She motioned to the coffee machine on the small bureau against the wall. “Help yourself.”

  He smiled with appreciation and poured two cups, carrying them to the desk and taking the chair facing her. “I reckoned you’d want to lay down a working plan.”

  Fraya didn’t miss the challenge in his eyes. She sighed inwardly. Instinctively she knew she’d first have to prove herself, that she was a worthy new boss, before she could rely on his trust and support. She’d always worked alone, and this sudden new influx of human relations and their intricate managing wasn’t something she looked forward to. Her time was better invested in much needed research.

  She pursed her lips in resignation, and pushed her assessment over the desk toward him. “That’s our mission, and a timeline for what I believe we should be able to achieve in the next six months.”

  He sipped his coffee and glanced over the paper. His eyebrows lifted. “A tight deadline, I’d say.”

  “A realistic deadline,” she corrected. “I’ll let you go over it. Get back to me if you have any questions. I’ll have your assignments drawn up tomorrow.”

  His brow lifted even further at that. “I’ve been told that you’re a slave driver.”

  “And now I’ve proved it. We have a hard task ahead of us, finding answers to the questions of dark matter.”

  His eyes scanned a few more lines. “You have an interesting approach. May I dare say it’s very different from Eduardo’s.”

  “My predecessor wasn’t very creative,” she retorted.

  “Right.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Anything you need in the meantime?”

  “Yes. Book me time on the AKMY telescopes.”

  His hesitation was almost infuriating. “Which one? Antu?”

  “I said ‘telescopes’, like in plural. I meant all four.”

  His eyes widened. “There’s a list of a thousand requests, outnumbering the available night skies by more than four over a year.”

  “Did I ask you for a mathematical calculation of requests?”

  “We very rarely get permission to ope
rate them simultaneously on one assignment, and even to secure only one will take a very strong motivation.”

  “Last time I checked, formulating the motivation is my job. Just put the booking request on file. I’ll handle the rest.”

  “Okay,” he said, giving her a slight smile.

  “If there isn’t anything else, I’d like to get back to work. I’ll schedule a meeting tomorrow to go over your task division.”

  He got to his feet slowly. “Do you need an organogram?”

  “Got it. Know it like the back of my hand.”

  “Wow.” He exhaled loudly. “You sure don’t joke around.”

  “In our job there’s very little time for joking.”

  “Right.”

  He left the paper on her desk, but she picked it up and held it out to him. “This is your copy. By tomorrow morning, I need for you to have a grasp of what it entails.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Fraya would have said something about his mocking salute, but she could only watch his back as he stepped back into the hallway, not trusting her voice to speak through the pain that gnawed at her insides.

  Gathering everything she needed to continue her work at home, she swore again as she made for her vehicle to drive to the condo before darkness set in. Living away from the residence came with its share of complications. This was one of them she didn’t appreciate. Residing on site would have permitted her to work uninterruptedly, preventing the break in concentration she resented.

  She parked the car in the garage, deactivated the alarm, and walked to the kitchen to greet Al who sat perched on his tree, watching her with mindful eyes.

  She opened the cage door and cautiously put out her hand to stroke the soft feathers. “I promise I’ll take you out soon.” She took a piece of meat from the fridge and left it in the feeding bowl. “I bet you can’t wait to stretch your wings.”

  Fraya watched him rip the raw meat apart with his claws and his sharp beak, devouring it. “At least one of us has an appetite,” she sighed, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to face food the way she felt. Just as well she had lunch while she could still stomach it.

  A cold shower did nothing for the symptoms building in her gut, spreading through her intestines. Working was difficult. To focus on the complex set of mathematical equations was a nightmare. She closed the shutters and walked around the condo, trying to ease the discomfort steadily rising in her body. Finally, her efforts defeated, she took two painkillers and went to bed. When the sat phone rang, she tossed it aside. There was no way she would be able to handle Emilio tonight. She couldn’t dare to let him hear the need in her voice.

 

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