Running Toward Home

by M B Panichi

  Morgan’s thoughts floated restlessly. She mulled over her future, wondering what it might bring. She wanted to cling to the certainty of her old life, but she heard the echo of Jeannette’s observation that afternoon. “That may not be possible.” She recognized the truth in the statement, but had no idea what it meant in the long term. She knew she would never have the same life back. She was no longer an anonymous face in the crowd, no longer “just” a dockworker. She might be able to pretend nothing had changed, but her true parentage was always going to be an issue.

  Sighing, she finished her juice and pushed away from the sink. She tossed the empty container into the trash on her way to the entertainment room. Grabbing a quilt from the folded pile on the floor, she dropped into one of the leather lounge chairs. She found the remote for the vid-center and turned it on, setting the volume almost to nothing as she scrolled through the channels. She saw a couple action vids she recognized, but kept scrolling.

  As she surfed through the channels, she was startled and riveted by her own image in a collage behind a popular gossip commentator. She’d seen most of the photos shown on screen.

  Maruchek’s standard corporate headshot was positioned in the upper right corner, the official picture from her Mann-Maru personnel badge in the upper left. The rest were grainier shots, mostly of her with her friends and Shaine on Moon Base, in public venues like Club Tranquility or playing grav-ball.

  There was an action shot of her and another guy in the null-g grav-ball court, fighting for the ball. Blood dripped down the side of her face. Below it was a posed photo of her and her parents. She’d probably been about eight years old when it was taken. She wondered where they’d found it.

  At the center was an enhanced photo of her and Shaine in the null-g dance cube at Club Tranquility, lustfully wrapped around each other.

  Closed-captioned words scrolled accusingly across the bottom of the screen, underscoring the barely audible voice of the anchorman. “Mann-Maru CEO Tarm Maruchek’s mysteriously hidden and recently found daughter continues to elude media attempts at contact.

  “Despite Rahn’s reluctance to talk to the media, investigators have discovered that the woman may not be the daughter that Maruchek would have hoped for. Raised by working-class parents in the Asteroid Belt’s many mining facilities and on Moon Base, Rahn, who was buried Torwen Arella Maruchek, has an apparent wild streak that we’re sure Maruchek was hoping to hide.

  “Sources on Moon Base describe a tough young woman who plays no-holds-barred grav-ball in one of the local amateur leagues. Opponent Charlie Heathe told this reporter that Rahn has, quote, bloodied him, unquote, more than once. Indeed, in some of the photos we were able to obtain, it appears that fighting on the court is something Rahn is not afraid of.”

  A series of grainy photos from different games scrolled horizontally across the screen, shots of Morgan engaged with Heathe and a couple of others. Morgan studied the images. The photos appeared to have been taken by friends of one or the other of the teams. Morgan wondered whom they’d paid for those photos, and hoped it wasn’t anyone she considered a friend. She couldn’t decide if she was angry or saddened. Maybe a little of both.

  She remembered at least one of the fights depicted. She hadn’t started the altercation, but she’d finished it. Charlie Heathe had elbowed her in the face that night as she went for a point. She’d been amped up on adrenaline, pissed that he’d been harassing her all night. She remembered ignoring the pain and the blood trickling from her nose. She launched off her defenseman’s hands and forced her way past Heathe to sink the ball into the goal hole, then spinning, she kicked away from the wall and slammed her fist into Heathe’s face. They’d both been thrown out that night, and Heathe ended up with a broken nose. The photo showed blood droplets floating around them in the null gravity field and her fist connecting with his face. The blood in the photo had been hers. She didn’t regret the fight. The bastard had deserved it, but the way it was depicted in the photo, she’d been the aggressor.

  The commentary continued. Morgan wanted to turn it off, but found herself sickly fascinated with the description of her life. “Rahn has been seen often in the company of this woman, whom we’ve identified as Shaine Wendt.”

  The background screen flashed up a photo of Morgan and Shaine on Moon Base, leaving work together, walking near the tram that traveled to the dry docks and supply depot facilities near the spaceport. Morgan remembered that day, too, and the photographers that Shaine had threatened with bodily harm. Always her protector, Shaine. Morgan sighed. Would it always be like this? Would the press always be hovering, curious, demanding, prying? Would Shaine always be shielding her from the hounds?

  “Identity searches on Wendt have come up curiously empty. She is currently employed as a mechanic for Mann-Maru Universal Industries, though there are records of her working as a midlevel Security Administrator at Mann-Maru Corporate, and having spent nearly ten years in Earth Guard, most of that as a Commando in the Special Operations Division. She got an honorable medical discharge and a purple cross commendation for her injuries in the line of duty. A great deal of her service record is classified, which is expected for a commando operative. Wendt’s relationship with Morgan Rahn, however, has been well documented, as shown by the photos of the two of them at Club Tranquility on Moon Base.”

  Several more photos popped up on the screen. Morgan hadn’t been aware of any of them being taken, though she remembered the night well. The photos were grainy personal holo reproductions, and it looked to her like most had been cropped and edited.

  She looked tough and confident in cargo pants cut off at the knees, work boots and a cropped black T-shirt sporting the band’s logo, the arms sheared off and the neck cut out. The vivid colors of her tattoos showed bright against her pale skin. In one photo she leaned against a high table with a beer in one hand, the other gesturing toward the stage. In another, she leaned against Shaine, the redhead’s long arms wrapped loosely around her middle as she spoke intimately into Morgan’s ear. Shaine wore faded combat fatigues and a tight black tank top that showed off her attributes quite nicely. In the club lighting, her hair seemed even redder than it was, standing up in short spikes.

  Despite the invasion of her privacy, Morgan smiled at the photos. Anyone looking at the pictures could see what Morgan thought was obvious—two women who seemed to be very comfortable together and very much in love. We look good together, she thought. God, I love her.

  The shot of her and Shaine in the null-g cube popped up again. Morgan felt a flush of heat at the memory of that night. Shaine had practically taken her right there in the cube. Neither of them had been particularly sober. She remembered the driving energy of the music and the slam patterns in the cube. The gang of regular dancers who controlled the slam sphere was wired up, the band screaming loud and the pace of the slam patterns had been bordering on out of control as they flipped each other around the null-g cube. She’d been so happy to be alive, so relieved that Shaine was all right and that her friends had accepted her newly revealed status as Maruchek’s daughter. Joy had morphed into desperate, lusting need that exploded between her and Shaine.

  “Neither Maruchek nor his organization have commented on whether Morgan Rahn will have a role at Mann-Maru other than her current job as an external ship systems mechanic. Speculation is that there will be some kind of continuing relationship between Rahn and Maruchek, if the amount of security around the woman is any indication of Maruchek’s intent. But obviously Rahn has neither been groomed nor educated for a high-ranking position in the corporation.”

  The reporter made a few more remarks before moving onto the next news story.

  Morgan flipped back to one of the action vids, but her mind remained on what she’d just heard.

  I am not the loser and the troublemaker they want me to be. I’m no angel, but I’m not a bad person.

  She wanted to be angry, but she couldn’t find the energy to be anything other than depressed. Sh
e didn’t know what to do. She could go back to Moon Base, but nothing there would ever be the same. She had not asked for any of this.

  She had no vision of her life other than what it had been. She’d never conceived of doing anything else. Technically, she could go anywhere and do mechanic work. But where? She didn’t want to leave her dad on Moon Base. She had a life there, and friends who were more like family. How could she walk away from that?

  Morgan sighed heavily and sank further into the chair, tucking the quilt up under her chin, pulling her feet up and curling onto her side. The screen flashed with explosions as the action vid played with the volume muted. She stared at the screen without really seeing it. After a while she finally slept.

  Chapter Four

  The early afternoon sun bathed the vegetable garden in bright heat. Shaine knelt in the dirt, weeding and pulling small seedlings to make room for stronger ones. She wore a sleeveless cut-off T-shirt and shorts and had kicked off her shoes, enjoying the feel of the earth on her bare feet. Her already tan skin picked up even more color in the sun, except where she’d managed to smear dirt on her face, arms and legs.

  A couple of rows in front of her, Morgan also knelt in the soil. She’d opted to wear one of Jeannette’s big-brimmed straw hats and a long-sleeved T-shirt to ward off sunburn on her pale skin. Shaine thought she looked adorable in a goofy kind of way. Morgan twisted around and sent Shaine a wide grin. “Hey, look!” She held up an angleworm as long as her hand.

  Shaine laughed. “That’s a good one.”

  “This is so wild! Everything is alive, and it moves!” She set the worm back in the dirt and watched as it wriggled away into the coolness.

  “I’m really glad you’re enjoying yourself. I was worried you’d freak out.”

  “It’s just so amazing. I mean, if you go to the park in Moon Base, there are some insects. But here, it’s just free and open and—” She shook her head. “Just different.” She turned back to her weeding. “And there’s something to be said for playing in the mud.”

  “Don’t let my mom hear you say that, or she won’t let you leave,” Shaine teased.

  Morgan smirked. “Who said I wanted to leave?”

  Shaine raised a brow. “Oh? Hmmm. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Good.” Morgan held up a bit of green. “Is this a weed?”

  “Uh, no, that’s a baby tomato plant.”

  Morgan frowned. “Looks like a weed. Sorry.”

  “No worries. More where that one came from.”

  Morgan returned to her work and Shaine to hers in a comfortable silence. Shaine smiled. She enjoyed being mindlessly busy and reveled in the lack of stress. It felt good to share this with Morgan. She was happy. Content. Hell, practically joyful. It had been a long time since she’d felt this way.

  Being home was a good thing. She had missed her family. But, more than that, she knew the happiness she was currently experiencing was all about Morgan. Just being near her was like a balm to Shaine’s soul. Having Morgan be part of every day, every night, was wonderful. She’d never felt this way about anyone. She had never trusted anyone the way she trusted Morgan. Morgan was the only one she’d ever wanted to take home to her family, to share her safe space, to share her life.

  Shaine blinked. That’s it, isn’t it? she thought. I want to share my life with her. She chuckled inwardly. Well, hell. There’s a revelation. Then she frowned, wondering if Morgan felt the same way. Her stomach twisted at the thought that Morgan might not, and she quickly pushed that aside. Not gonna go there, she decided. Not right now.

  She let her gaze travel over the small woman, so serious as she worked her way down the row, and Shaine couldn’t stop the smile that formed. Damn, I love you, Morgan Rahn.

  “Shaine!”

  She turned at the sound of her mother calling her name and waved a hand in response. Jeannette stood on the back porch.

  “Shaine, your com has been buzzing incessantly for the last half hour! Can you come and answer whomever is calling you?”

  Morgan looked over as well, a question on her face. Shaine scowled. There was only one person she could think of who would be calling her. “Fuck. Gotta be fucking Rogan.” She pushed to her feet and called back to her mother, “Yeah, I’m coming!”

  Morgan got up as well. “Wonder what he wants now?” she muttered.

  Shaine shook her head, wiping her hands on her shorts. She waited until Morgan was at her side and they headed toward the house. Jeannette stopped them on the porch and pointed at their feet—Shaine’s bare and covered with dirt, Morgan wearing muddy boots. Jeannette handed Shaine two towels. “Rinse pail is over there.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” She was all too familiar with the evil “rinse pail,” with which she’d had a close relationship all her growing up years.

  Morgan took off her borrowed straw hat, toed off her boots and peeled off her socks, leaving them on the porch steps. When they’d finished washing off the mud and drying their feet, they grinned sheepishly at Jeannette and filed past her. Shaine grabbed her com off the breakfast bar, and led Morgan back into the den.

  Closing the door behind them, she jacked her phone into the vid screen and recalled the incoming number, which she recognized as that of her former Security Group boss. When the call went through, the screen cleared to show Duncan Rogan sitting stiffly behind his desk. His muscular bulk filled his chair. His unadorned black uniform was as stark as his office space. Dark eyes pierced Shaine and Morgan impatiently. Shaine ignored his obvious irritation, as she always did. She hated that her knowledge of Mann-Maru’s corporate secrets tied her to him. She hated that he held her own actions over her head, as much as she did the same for him. She pushed her hands through her sweat-dampened hair. Morgan stood beside her and slipped an arm around Shaine’s waist.

  “What do you want?” she demanded.

  Rogan lifted a brow. “Am I interrupting a mud fight?”

  Shaine said flatly, “Actually, yes. And I was winning. What do you want?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “I have a proposition for you, Wendt.”

  Morgan cocked her head and said to Shaine, “You’d have thought he’d know by now that you’re taken.”

  Shaine chuckled, settling her arm around Morgan’s shoulders. “So, what’s on your mind, Rogan?”

  “How do you feel about Mars?”

  “Mars?”

  He nodded.

  Shaine frowned. “What’s on Mars?”

  “Mann-Maru finally got mining rights there, which means we have the go-ahead to develop a mining site. Development requires security. I want you heading that security detail.”

  Shaine schooled her expression into unimpressed boredom. “I am a mechanic. I don’t do security work anymore.”

  “You are no more a mechanic than I’m a nice guy.”

  Morgan murmured, “Well, you’re certainly not a nice guy.”

  Shaine held a finger over the disconnect button. “I am not having this conversation.”

  Rogan asked sharply, “Do you plan on hiding on your parents’ farm forever?”

  “Actually, we were thinking of moving in permanently,” Shaine returned. “Talk to ya later, Rogan.” She disconnected the call.

  Morgan shook her head. “He’s an idiot.”

  Shaine nodded. “Yeah. Come on, let’s go finish up the garden.”

  “You think he was serious?”

  “Sure he’s serious. He enjoys having his claws in my skin. And he’s too paranoid to trust outsiders with anything this big.”

  Morgan added thoughtfully, “He’s right about us not being able to hide here forever, though.”

  “Why not? Don’t you like it here?”

  “Well, sure, I like it, but—”

  Shaine grinned. “Relax, I’m kidding.” She gave Morgan’s narrow shoulders a squeeze. “And you’re right. We can’t hide forever. But I don’t want to admit that to him.”

  Morgan returned the grin. “Okay. I can live with
that.”

  “You ever been to Mars?”

  “Considering a road trip?”

  “When he calls back, we can see what else he’s got to say.”

  “Seriously?”

  Shaine shrugged as they exited the house, pausing on the porch for Morgan to put her socks and shoes back on. “Eh, maybe. Call me stupid, but I’m curious. Besides, going back to the way things were isn’t going to work, at least for the immediate future. If we go back to Moon Base, it’s just going to be more of the same press in your face and pissing us off.”

  Morgan said, “That’s probably true. But he’s just using you, Shaine.”

  “I know. That’s not gonna change.”

  “It pisses me off.”

  “I don’t like it either, but as long as there is Mann-Maru and me, he’s going to try to use me. It’s just the way he is. In a way, it’s kind of a mutual blackmailing. I know things about Mann-Maru that would be damaging to them. They know things I’ve done that would be damaging to me. I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe I should quit being pissed and figure out how to take advantage of the situation.”

  Morgan nodded. “Yeah, I can see that. Use it to get what you want. But he still pisses me off.”

  “No doubt.”

  “So, do you really want to go to Mars?”

  Shaine shrugged. “I don’t know. Never been there. It might be interesting. But I’m not going to worry about it right now. We can talk about it, roll it around and see how it feels. In any case, I don’t want to give in to Rogan without a fight. He can sit and stew for a while, wondering what I’m going to do.”

  Morgan smiled. “Works for me.”

  “Good.” Shaine grinned. “Let’s go kill some weeds.”

  Chapter Five

  Morgan decided she liked loud, boisterous dinners. Leese, Mike and Toby had joined Morgan, Shaine and Shaine’s parents for the world’s absolute best pot roast with roasted potatoes and carrots. Morgan swore she’d never had food so wonderful in her life. There was so much flavor in every bite, she didn’t want to stop eating. It was going to be hard to go back to eating processed foods on Moon Base.