Bean's Heart (Hearts of ICARUS Book 7)

by Phillips, Laura Jo

  “Hauk,” she swore under her breath.

  “What happened to crumpet jam?”

  “I left it at home,” she murmured. “Didn’t think I’d be needing it here.”

  She stared at the screen, thinking. Then she remembered the medical vault where meds and devices the fabricator was unable to produce were stored. She worked her way through the files again until she found the inventory list she wanted. She scrolled through the list of pharmaceuticals, didn’t find what she was looking for, then went through it again.

  She poked around a little more before giving up and logging out. “Great,” she said. “This is just great.”

  “What is it that you’re looking for and why are you upset about not finding it?”

  “There’s a medication that blocks pheromone production in Klanaren females,” she explained. “Vari and Ria both wanted to take them, so I researched them because I wanted to be sure they were safe. I never took them, though. I wasn’t ready to be mated, but for some reason I never felt like there was much danger of me running across my intended Rami while I was away at college, or while teaching third grade on Sheara 3. When I’m home on holiday I avoid new people so again, not much to worry about.

  “With everything else that’s been going on the past three months, I never once thought about something like this happening, so I didn’t bring any suppressants with me. I just checked the infirmary’s inventory and there aren't any on the ship, and the med fabricator doesn’t make them.”

  “I still don’t know what you’re talking about Bean. What are pheromones?”

  “It’s something the body produces. Clan males identify their berezi by scenting their pheromones. If no pheromones are produced, they can’t identify them.”

  “Is there another way to suppress them?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “What will you do?”

  “There isn't anything I can do other than wait and see what happens.”

  “I’m sorry Bean. I’m afraid this subject is beyond my knowledge or skills. There isn’t anything I can do to help you.”

  “I know, Iffon. There’s nothing to apologize for.” She reached over and turned the vid terminal off. “Come on,” she said, getting to her feet. “Let’s go practice.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Bean nodded. She hadn’t practiced since Captain Reynolds’ death the previous morning. She’d only known him for a couple of months, but she’d liked him a great deal and was sad that he’d passed before he got to truly begin this mission. He’d been so excited about crossing the galaxy.

  But she had responsibilities, and strengthening her telekinesis was the most important one of them. She didn’t know whether it was speed, dexterity, or strength that would matter most, so she worked at all three every day. Until yesterday. Time was growing short, though, and her progress was slow, so she couldn’t afford to waste any more of it.

  “Give me a minute to change, then we’ll go to the training room.”

  “All right. After practice, can we have pie?”

  Bean smiled. “Yes, Iffon, I think we can do that.”

  ***

  A couple of hours later Bean entered the cafeteria with Iffon on her shoulder and a small but genuine smile on her face. For two weeks she’d been trying to master holding six five pound weights in an even, vertical circle and keep it turning for two minutes. Finally, with Iffon cheering her on, she’d succeeded.

  The circle had been a little wobbly at times, and she couldn’t make it turn very fast, but she’d still done it. It was definitely an accomplishment to celebrate. She crossed the nearly empty cafeteria to a small table for two next to a wall and sat down with the wall at her back.

  Their waitress, an angular, bony woman who wore way too much makeup approached. She paused several feet away to look at the empty corridor beyond the transparent wall that fronted the cafeteria, then continued to their table. ‘’Hi Bean.”

  “Hello Hera,” Bean replied without even attempting to smile, her good mood vanishing in an instant.

  “Why are you upset?” Iffon asked.

  “It bothers me that she acts like you don’t exist. Why are you upset?”

  “I’m not upset, Bean. I’m angry.”

  “How are you this afternoon?” Hera asked, stopping to lean one bony hip against the empty chair across from Bean.

  “We’re fine,” Bean said, biting her tongue against the automatic urge to politely return the inquiry. She didn’t come to the cafeteria to visit Hera, but the waitress always wanted to spend a few minutes chatting with everyone who came in the door. Bean wasn’t sure how she managed to serve food when she spent so much time talking.

  “I hear we’re getting new Commanders.”

  “That’s right,” Bean said without elaborating.

  “Anyone I know?”

  Bean frowned. “Is that a trick question? How would I know if she knows them?”

  “Maybe you should ask her to tell you the names of everyone she knows so you can answer that,” Iffon suggested irritably.

  “That’s tempting, Iffon,” Bean said. “Zander, Zachery, and Zain Falcoran.”

  Hera’s lips stretched into something resembling a smile, except that it wasn’t the least bit nice. “The Frisky Falcorans,” she said with a smirk.

  “Pardon me?” Bean said, shocked by Hera’s tone, words, and expression. They all added up to something that was just…nasty.

  “That’s one name they’re known by. Falcoran Studs is another and um…,” Hera tapped her long, bright pink nails against the chair back, then shrugged. “I can’t think of any others at the moment. But I will.”

  “We’d like pie,” Bean said as though she hadn’t even heard Hera’s comments regarding the Falcorans.

  Hera blinked and nodded. “Peach?”

  “Yes. Two plates, water without ice, and coffee with cream.”

  “Coming right up,” Hera said with a wide fake smile before she turned around and sauntered away.

  “I’m stunned,” Iffon said.

  “Why?”

  “You were sort of rude. Well, rude according to your standards.” Bean looked down at him in mild confusion. “You ordered without a single please or thank you.”

  Bean blushed and dropped her gaze to the table.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Iffon said. “I approve. I’m not sure why you did it, but I definitely approve.”

  “Two reasons,” Bean replied. “The first is that the Falcorans will be the Commanders of this ship and as such should be treated with respect.”

  “Good reason,” Iffon said. “What’s the second one?”

  “I didn’t understand what malicious gossip was until I was a teenager and went away to school. You were there, Iffon. You know as well as I do how ugly and vile it is.”

  “Hera is the very definition of a malicious gossip. I refused to be drawn into it then, and I refuse to be drawn into it now. Sadly, the people on this ship will have to put up with her until the Askara reaches home, and it’s at least partly my fault.”

  “How is it your fault?”

  “Because I should’ve discarded her application before handing them all over to Captain Reynolds.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because there wasn’t a single word on it about her flapping tongue.”

  “That’s too bad, but certainly nothing you should feel guilty about.”

  “Will you tell me now why you were angry?”

  “The way she always pretends to look at something before coming to our table in order to convey how unimportant you are is insulting and rude. At first it was only irritating, but each time she does it I get angrier.”

  “Don’t waste your energy, Iffon. She’s not worth it.”

  “I know. What does frisky mean, anyway?”

  “The word means playful, but the way she used it, it implies more.”

  “More?”

  “She implied that they spend time with women.
Many women.”

  “How could such a thing be true?”

  “I don’t know, but even if it is true, so what? They’re still the Commanders of this vessel, or will be, and their sexual activities have no bearing on that.”

  “Will you still feel that way if it turns out that they’re your Rami?”

  “Yes,” Bean replied easily. “Why would I be bothered? They don’t know me, nor I them. I’d be more concerned about how such a thing could be possible.”

  “Well, considering the source, I’m not sure it’d be wise to believe much of anything she says to begin with.”

  “Agreed. According to the Falcorans’ profile, they’re far too old for that anyway.”

  “I thought you said they were young?”

  “For Clan males, they are,” Bean agreed, then stopped talking when Hera returned with their pie and drinks. Luckily her attention was diverted by a Katre male-set who were currently seating themselves near the back.

  “Thanks, Hera,” Bean said automatically.

  “Let me know if you need anything else,” Hera said almost absently as she took off toward the Katres.

  Bean cut off a section of the pie and put it on the extra plate. Iffon hopped down onto the table in front of it and changed from a little yellow canary to the large, dark blue and red raptor that he usually preferred.

  “Thank you, Bean,” he said before taking a bite of the crust.

  Bean took his water dish out of her pocket and filled it from the glass Hera brought. “Your welcome, Iffon. Don’t let me forget your water dish again when we leave, please.”

  “I won’t.”

  Bean added cream to her coffee and picked up a fork. “Where was I?”

  “Do you realize that you’re speaking aloud to me?”

  “Yes. Anyone who doesn’t like it can just look the other way. Unless you prefer that I don’t.”

  “Not at all. I’m out of hiding now, so I’ve no complaints. And you were talking about the Falcorans’ ages.”

  “That’s right. They’re considered young by Clan standards in terms of age. But, once Clan males reach the age of about eighty or ninety they reach physical maturity. When that occurs, they’re no longer sexually active until they find their berezi.”

  “They’re double that in age.”

  “Exactly,” Bean said, sipping her coffee.

  “How old is Hera?”

  Bean thought about that for a few moments while she took a bite of her own pie. One of the tasks she’d helped with in preparing for this mission was reviewing the mountains of applications for service personnel and narrowing them down to those that met specific qualifications.

  “She’s about sixty, I think. Somewhere in there. It’s hard to tell with age controls, but I seem to recall that from her application.”

  “Yes, I remember now. She’s in her early sixties.”

  “She’s definitely not old enough to have known them before they reached maturity,” Bean said. “That leaves the question of how would she know, or even think, that what she just said was true?”

  Chapter 10

  40 days to deadline…

  Early the following morning Bean and Iffon left their room and headed for the rec deck. Bean already missed her early morning runs on the ranch, and wondered how her sisters had gone eleven months without fresh air and sunshine.

  She took the stairs down to the rec deck at a jog to get her blood pumping a little after warning Iffon, who had already prepared by changing to a tiny finch. The large red and blue raptor form he usually preferred had long, sharp talons that could too easily injure Bean if he gripped her too tightly.

  Before she pushed the stairwell door open he changed back to his preferred form. Then they stepped into the corridor, neither of them surprised to see a large number of the crew already there, most of them either coming from or going to their own work outs.

  Bean stretched her lips into a little smile and waved at those who greeted her, surprised as always that almost everyone did. As far as she could tell the only people who didn’t greet her were those who were otherwise occupied and didn’t even see her.

  She was used to people on the ranch knowing her. And she was used to her students and fellow teachers knowing her, but only as acquaintances. Other than that, most people either didn’t notice her, or simply ignored her.

  It was odd to know and be known by so many people in this type of environment. It had made her very nervous at first, but nearly three months of working with these same people had made an enormous difference. She’d even come to enjoy it a little.

  Bean went into what was usually called the machine room and headed for the treadmill section. She nodded to the other half dozen people already in there but didn’t interrupt their workouts. Exercise machines weren’t very popular on a working ship, she’d learned. The crew generally preferred sparring, target practice, or the multi-arts room with its obstacle course and climbing walls.

  There were several treadmills available, but she preferred the corner unit simply because her personal preferences were already stored on it and it was a pain to set them up on another machine. She stepped onto it, entered her ID code to pull up her program, placed her hand terminal on the small tray above the control panel designed for the purpose, and hung a clean towel over the railing. She waited for Iffon to hop onto the tray next to her hand terminal, then started the treadmill.

  As she jogged through the warm up portion of her program she watched idly as Iffon began grooming his feathers. Then she fixed her eyes on the scenery vid playing silently on the far wall, not bothering with the headphones since she didn’t like the accompanying music. She was three quarters of the way through her usual five mile run when Iffon finished his grooming, shook out his feathers, and turned to face her.

  “What will you do after this mission is over? Will you return to teaching?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t really given it much thought.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not what?” she asked, confused.

  “Why haven’t you thought about what you’ll do after we return to Jasan?”

  “I’ve been a little preoccupied, Iffon. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. Just curious.”

  “Well, I guess it’s because I’ve been focused on preparing for whatever might happen once we reach Kinah. It’s kind of hard to think past that.”

  “Yes, I see what you mean,” Iffon said. Bean had the feeling he was going to say more but stopped when someone pulled the door open and entered the room.

  “Good morning Bean, and good morning Iffon.”

  “Good morning Debora,” Bean said, liking what little she knew of the pretty engineer. “I’ll be done in just a few minutes.”

  “No rush, Bean. It’s not like there aren’t more treadmills in here. I’m just too lazy to set up my program on another machine.”

  “I know what you mean. It’s the same reason I always use this one.”

  Debora stopped to lean against a stair machine directly in front of the treadmill. “I guess you know we’re getting new Commanders in a couple of days,” she said while gathering her dark curls into a ponytail.

  “Yes, I know,” Bean said. “A young Falcoran male-set.”

  “Do you know them?”

  “No,” Bean replied. “You?”

  “No, but I’ve heard things about them.”

  “What kind of things?” Bean asked warily.

  Debora caught her tone and glanced up, her blue eyes rueful. “Nothing bad, really,” she said quickly. “From all I know, which isn’t much, they’re very good at what they do.”

  “What have you heard, then?”

  “They’re a bit on the promiscuous side,” Debora said, not seeing Bean’s shock only because she’d bent down to retie the laces on her shoes. “Almost every male of every race aside from Clan Jasani, especially the younger ones, go way beyond promiscuous, so it hardly seems fair to make such a big deal out of the Falcorans
being that way. I suppose it’s because they’re Clan. I’ve never heard of a mature Clan male-set who tried to bed any female not their mate, let alone every female within a hundred yards of them.”

  Bean hid her relief when the treadmill beeped to let her know her program was finished, as though the flashing lights on the control panel and the machine coming to a stop weren’t big enough clues. She grabbed her hand terminal and the towel she’d hung over the safety rail, waited for Iffon to hop onto her shoulder, and stepped off the machine.

  “It’s all yours,” she said, smiling brightly at Debora before she could stop herself. “Have a good run.”

  “Thanks, Bean.”

  Bean crossed the room at a relaxed, unhurried pace, stopped to grab a bottle of water from the chiller along the wall, then stepped out into the corridor. She twisted the cap off the water and sipped it slowly as she walked toward the stairwell, unwilling to take the time to cool down properly. She maintained her outward calm until she was back in their room with the door locked. After waiting for Iffon to fly up to one of the larger perches hanging from the ceiling, she began pacing.

  “You think what Debora said is true?”

  “I think it’s possible, yes. Coming from Hera, no. But Debora isn’t Hera.”

  “I agree Debora is more believable than Hera. But, given what you told me on the subject of Klanaren and maturity, I can’t imagine how what she said could be true.”

  “I can’t either,” Bean said, stopping her pacing with a frustrated sigh. “This is the problem with allowing myself to have real emotions again.”

  “What is?”

  “Feeling grief, sadness, nervousness, all those things is hard. It’s much easier to just pretend to feel those things.”

  “Perhaps,” Iffon said. “But isn’t it a lot nicer to actually feel happiness, amusement, and love than it is to pretend to feel them?”

  “Yes, it is,” she admitted. “Don’t worry, Iffon. I’m not going back to the way I was.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, though I didn’t think you would.”

  “I’m going to take a quick shower, then we’ll go grab breakfast. How’s that sound?”