by Lee Stephen
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“You.” The truth was broader. He was thinking about them. He was thinking about marriage. He was thinking about Novosibirsk. Somehow, all three of those would have to fit together. They would have to harmonize. He just didn’t know how.
“Just me?”
His hand got lost in her curls. “Maybe a little bit more.”
She nestled in at his side, turning her dark blue eyes to watch him. “Like what?”
It was an easy question to pose. It was an impossible one to answer. To even ask, ‘How are we going to make this work?’ would be to indicate doubt. It opened the door to the possibility that there was no answer. That was unacceptable. “Just thinking about what we need to do.”
“What do we need to do?” she asked. Her gaze trailed to his lips, then it returned to him.
“I don’t know.” It was a truthful answer. He regretted not having something else to say. “I’ll put in for a transfer.”
“When?”
“Just before the wedding.”
Her fingertips traced the edge of his neckline. “When will that be?”
When would that be? It was the same question he’d asked himself every night for months. “There’s so much to think about.”
Her gaze settled down, and her head rested in the crevice of his shoulder.
There was much to think about. She had school left. He was already in the middle of his career; her future stared her dead in the face. How could their paths co-exist?
“Let’s elope,” she said.
Scott’s mind stopped. He tilted his head to read her. “What?”
“I’ve been thinking about it…for a while now, but especially since Nathan said that today. His wife moved here so they could be together.”
He propped himself up on his elbow. Was she serious? “Baby, what about school?”
“I’ll transfer,” she answered. “I’m sure there must be a university with nursing courses here. I’ll transfer my credits and enroll.”
“Sweetie,” he tried not to laugh, “it’s not like moving to another neighborhood. This is the middle of Russia. This is nowhere.”
“I know,” she answered, “but God called you here, and He called us together. I’m ready to make this work.”
She was crazy. Was she crazy? “When are you talking about doing this?”
“Now.” She nuzzled against him. “Before I go home. This next week.” Her fingers danced over his chin.
“But this is Russia, baby. You can’t even speak Russian.” It went even beyond that. Nursing school was hard enough in her native language. Though she never admitted it, he knew that her grades had been slipping. But in Russian? She’d never stand a chance.
Her face softened, and she closed her eyes. “I’ll learn. I’m pretty good at foreign languages. I learned French pretty quick.”
“Sweetie…”
When her eyes opened, they glistened. “Scott, please. This isn’t something I thought of five minutes ago. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, for weeks, for months. About the possibility. And when Nathan said that today, it just sounded so obvious. I don’t know what else to do. They wouldn’t even assign you to Detroit Station, so what makes you think they’ll grant you a transfer?”
“I’m an officer now.”
“Yeah.” She almost laughed. “In Novosibirsk. Do you understand that, Scott? God put you here. He didn’t put you in Michigan. He didn’t even put you in America. I’ll move here on base. You heard what Nathan said, that’s allowed.” She continued before he could cut her off. “You always talk about God’s will, and how you felt all of this was so right. I’m trusting you, Scott. Let me trust you.”
He sighed and glanced away. She didn’t know what she was asking. “Baby…”
She guided his face to look at hers, and spoke to him in a whisper. “God is putting you in the places you need to be. He’s putting me there, too. Let’s trust Him together.” Before he could answer, a smile broke from her lips. “So, Scott Remington…will you marry me…now?”
His heart melted. God is putting you in the places you need to be. Those were the words she’d always told him. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was their destiny together. Maybe everything that was their future hinged on this decision. She felt it was right. He had his doubts, but she was determined. She wouldn’t have asked about it if she weren’t. And for the first time since his first day at Richmond, there was a solution on the table. There was a way they could be together.
There was a way.
How else could he answer her question?
“Okay,” he said. “You say you’ve thought about this—and I believe you. I’ll trust you, too.” He held onto her hand. “Yes, Nikki. I will marry you—now.” As soon as he said it, he felt a burden on his chest lift away.
Nicole smiled contentedly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in close. “I love you.”
That statement required no hesitation. “I love you, too.” Enough to trust her. “Let’s take a few days to figure this out. Not to talk ourselves out of it. Let’s figure out how to do it.” Somehow. Some crazy way. But a way nonetheless.
She quietly nodded her head.
For the next several hours, Scott and Nicole lay side by side. Few words were spoken, but few words needed to be. The tunnel still stared at them from ahead, but for the first time, there was a thin horizon of light at the end of it. There was hope. There was a chance.
There was the two of them.
Clarke’s orders were fulfilled to the letter. No one else saw them that day.
8
Friday, August 5, 0011 NE
1945 hours
Alexander Nijinsky stood outside, behind the back of the hangar. He had been there for quite some time, blowing the scented vapor of a metallic sprig from his lips. In his free hand sat the picture. The face of the woman—the one who would come.
She had a beautiful essence about her. She was young. She smiled like a sunrise. It was a professional picture, and he wondered how Dostoevsky had gotten it. He wondered who the young woman was. But none of it mattered. She was the Rule. That was all Nijinsky needed to know.
He folded the picture and slid it back into his pocket. Then he pulled out the ring that had come with it. It was old—or at least it looked old. It looked like an ordinary ring, like a wedding ring. Until he slipped it on his finger. As soon as it was firmly in place, a minute needle—barely a sliver—protracted from its edges. It stuck out not even two centimeters. But it was enough. He stared at the ring as he held it in the palm of his hand. It looked so harmless.
Nijinsky had always wanted to be a Nightman, and he’d finally been invited to become one. He was assigned to the Third, a unit with deep Nightman influence. He leapt at the chance to transform. It was an opportunity offered only once, and it was always a mistake to say no. The prize was the position of slayer—a foot soldier of the Nightman sect.
He wasn’t sure what attracted them to him. One never approached the Nightmen on their own accord—they only replied to the call. He had been in Thoor’s presence only once before, while he was with the Third in Siberia. That was when the underground Bakma outpost had been destroyed. Thoor had ridden in their transport for that mission. He could only assume that’s where he was noticed. There was no other way to explain it.
His eyes scrutinized the needle for several more seconds, before he finally slipped the ring—carefully—from his finger. The slightest slip could kill him. As soon as the ring was removed, the needle retracted.
Nijinsky slid it into his pocket, where his hand remained. In his other hand, between two of his fingers, he carelessly gripped the metallic casing of his sprig. Blowing a huff of its vapor out again, the delta trooper sighed.
Dostoevsky’s words played again in his head. She will come to you. His only job now was to wait.
And to watch.
* * *
Saturday, August 6, 0011NE
>
0530 hours
The next day
Scott awoke in the bunk room. He knew what time it was without having to look at a clock; his body had adjusted to the routine. Despite the fact that he typically slept in his private quarters, the snores and creaks of the bunk room didn’t bother him. He had become forever accustomed to their presence. He rarely even noticed when someone took a shower or rose out of their own beds early. The transition from private room to bunk room was no transition at all. Nonetheless, he preferred the former. As he eased upright, he pressed his hand against his forehead.
What time is it really?
He bent down and felt for his watch on the floor. Squinting at its glossy display, he saw that it was 0530 hours. Exactly the time that he’d thought. When he panned his gaze in the direction of the lounge, his second prediction was confirmed. There was an orange glow beneath the door—David and Galina were up.
Rising from bed, Scott padded across the bunk room. He smelled the coffee and tea as soon as he slipped inside.
“Good morning,” David said.
“Dobry utro,” said Galina.
Scott mumbled through his grogginess, “Good morning. Dobry utra.” His hair was a tangled wreck, but he didn’t care.
“I’m impressed,” David said as Scott shut the door. “I didn’t think you’d actually be able to do it.”
“What?”
“Sleep in here, without her.”
Scott was sure there’d been some bets cast on that one. He was surprised that Nicole was allowed to stay on base at all. Though most facilities catered to visitors, any catering at The Machine was unexpected. “How much did you lose?”
David laughed and sipped his coffee. “I stayed out of it. But Becan’s going to be ticked.”
“She is very nice,” said Galina. “You must be happy to have her.”
Scott offered a smile of his own. He was happy. He was about to be a whole lot happier. The thought of their eloping had played in his mind all night. Even as he slept, it played in his dreams. The more he thought about it, the more he loved it—and it was her idea. Their chat with Clarke had been a blessing in disguise. “I am, Galya. More than you know.”
“And I,” she said, “am very jealous. I am afraid I will lose you forever.”
Scott chuckled in his morning-deep voice. “Don’t worry. You’re still my secret Russian love.” He really did love Galina, just not in the romantic way. She was the female version of David. He cherished her soul.
“I had better be,” she replied. “Or it will not be fun for you come examination.”
David smiled. “You’ve got a great girl, Scott. She lived up to the hype.”
This pleased Scott immensely. The confirmation from David meant a lot to him. It felt good to believe that nobody else’s opinion mattered, but it wasn’t the truth. It mattered a lot. Especially from people like David. “Thanks, man. She really is.”
“Watch her around here,” David said, winking. “I’ve been getting a little lonely lately.”
Galina shot him a glance. “And what makes you think she will like after you?”
“Women like older men.”
“Not that older,” she scoffed.
“Did you guys know that Clarke was married?”
“Yep,” answered David.
“You did? How?”
“It’s an innate sense. Like telepathy.”
A blank look crossed Scott’s face.
David chuckled. “We’ve swapped wife stories before. I thought you knew.”
“No. Yesterday was the first I heard of it.”
David smiled. “So what are we doing today? Swimming pool? Passing drills? Having a hoedown?”
Galina looked puzzled.
“We’re actually working today,” Scott said. “Some laps around the track, then the weight room.”
“What is hoedown?” Galina asked.
“Ask Jayden,” Scott said, “he’ll tell you all about it.”
David set down his coffee and leaned back. “I thought for sure you’d take us to the pool again. So you could see that little knockout of yours in a swimsuit.”
“It’s because she’s a knockout in a swimsuit that I’m not taking her to the pool. You guys don’t need added incentive.”
“So what’s she going to do while we work?”
Scott sipped his coffee. “Watch, probably. She might actually run with us.”
“Really?”
“She’s a sporty girl. Played soccer in high school, she was a cheerleader in college. Runs all the time.”
“I’m impressed.”
“She could probably outrun a few people here. She’s got some legs.”
“When are you going get her?”
“As soon as I finish this coffee and wake everyone up,” Scott said as he looked at the clock. He’d warned her the night before that they would wake up early for the morning session. That she still wanted to go with him made him feel good.
“Take it with you,” David said. “I’ll rustle up everyone here.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. Go get your woman.”
“I appreciate it, man.”
“We’ll be in the cafeteria.”
“Sounds good.”
“Tell her good morning for us,” Galina said. “Though I suppose we can tell her ourselves.”
“I’ll pass it along anyway.” Scott waved, turned, and stepped out the door.
They had to elope. There was no question about it. He had tossed the idea in his head in the past, but never seriously. She’d never have gone for it. Or at least, he’d never thought she would. But now that it was her idea, it was brilliance. It was the only option there that made sense. There was still much to figure out, but that was what the next week was for. There was plenty of time. Plenty of time to do it right. He wouldn’t tell anyone else until the deed was done. There wasn’t any need to.
When he cracked open the door to his private room, a shaft of hall light cut through the darkness. Through the fireworks display of dust particles, she was there. She was tangled in his bed sheets, her head against his pillow, her hair tossed over her face. No motion was made when the light hit her. She only breathed. At that moment, he thought it the best sound he’d ever heard.
As he slipped inside, she stretched and twisted her body. “Mmm.”
He smiled. She always looked like an angel when she slept. He would watch her sometimes while they were at Michigan together. She would come to his room to study, while he worked on playbooks and pass routes. He always knew when she fell asleep. The softness of her breathing stole the room. It still did.
She sighed, and her body settled down. Scott eased the door shut as he entered. Then he moved to the bed and knelt by her side. As his hand brushed strands of hair from her face, she murmured again.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” he whispered.
“Mmm.” Her body arched beneath the covers.
“It’s time to wake up.”
Her lips parted, then fell into comfortable rest. She was awake. As she stared into his eyes, the corners of her mouth eased upward.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He brushed her hair past her ear. It was so thick and full. So healthy. It shimmered like sunset on a bay. “Good.”
Her hand slipped out from under the covers, and she curled her fingers around his. “You’re still here.”
“Of course I am, baby.”
“Marvelous,” she grinned beneath sheltered lids.
He couldn’t have summed it up with a better word. Marvelous. No other word captured the totality of how he felt in every single way. Of how they felt together. Marvelous.
“Do I have to wake up, now?”
“Yeah.” She always asked him that. Even when she knew the answer. “It’s time to get up for both of us.”
“Okay.” Her gaze flickered open, and her smile grew wider. “If you are, too.”
It
didn’t take her long to get out of bed and get ready. She always dragged at first, but quickly freshened, and activity took over. Within minutes, she was out of the bed and full of life. After the routine of teeth brushing and face washing, she was dressed and ready for the day.
It was strikingly normal to have her there. She felt right. He could imagine her settling down in Novosibirsk, maybe even in the base itself. He wondered why Clarke’s wife wasn’t there, before remembering that Novosibirsk was still Novosibirsk. Why would anyone willingly stay?
Once they were ready, they abandoned Scott’s room in the officers’ wing and made their way outside to meet the rest of the Fourteenth in the cafeteria.
The weather was warm. The rains had slacked off since the alpha privates’ arrival, though dark clouds still loomed in the distance. Occasional shafts of sunlight would break through—characteristic of a day that drew a stark line of contrast between beauty and barrenness.
When they arrived in the cafeteria, many from the Fourteenth were already there. There was an additional guest at their table: William Harbinger. The Eighth was due to join the Fourteenth’s workout, and as tradition held, that meant the Fourteenth adopted William for the day. When the two units merged, the demolitionist rarely ate with his own. Derrick Cole often joined him, though at the moment the deep-voiced southerner was absent.
David fired off a salute as soon as they neared. “All hail the Golden Lion.”
“Hey Nicole,” Travis said, as Scott escorted her to a seat. “Welcome to the Suckateria.”
“We’ve got all kinds of great dishes,” David said. “Gristle, fat, cold slop. Anything you want, as long as it’s disgusting.”
Nicole laughed and settled into her chair. “Thanks, I think.” She turned to William, who beamed from ear to ear. “I know I didn’t meet you yesterday.”
