Luckily, they didn’t have to jump out of the RRV directly into the wide, wide open. Instead, they were towed into a hangar with low cover. After pulling themselves out of the rock, all three of them did the "spaceman shuffle” as ground crews that never worried about shifting gravity or free fall cavorted about the RRV and checked it for damage. Edones headed for a door in the hangar, followed by Joyce and Matt. As last in line, Matt saw that both Edones and Joyce loosened up quickly as their planet-side upbringing started to take over. Their legs began to push away from the deck easier, their bodies began to sway and bounce.
Then Edones opened the door. Through it, Matt saw the wide open waiting for them. The sky was deep blue, almost aqua, but a few clouds scudding across it and the wind ruffling Edones’s hair ruined any deception of it being a habitat dome.
Matt clenched his jaw as he stepped through the door. Think of it as a ceiling. You’re not going to spin off. The ceilings of Athens Point corridors were high and could display as sky, when there weren’t commercials moving across—but it’s not the same. Don’t look up; don’t look at the horizon!
"We have a rental car waiting,” Edones said as Matt crumpled. "Oh, for Gaia’s sake! Get him up, Joyce.”
Nothing Matt’s conscious brain said could keep his body from flinching and going down onto the safety of hands and knees. Growing up on a generational ship and spending so many years under cover overwhelmed his cognizance. Without a deck above his head, his instincts wanted EVA apparatus, tethers, and the familiar sound of air supply to keep him from flying off into—whatever.
The deck was rough and black, absorbing the sun’s heat so well that Matt’s hands were almost burning. He saw Edones’s feet continue toward a car, while Joyce squatted next to him.
"Amazing what some men will do for love,” Joyce said dryly into Matt’s right ear.
What the hell?
"What?” Edones’s voice was sharp.
Matt raised his head, with difficulty, to see Edones standing a few meters away with his hand on the door of the car. Edones frowned, his eyes narrow as he watched Matt and Joyce.
"I’m helping my employee. She’s gotten me through a lot of dicey situations and she deserves the same support from me.” Matt said this through gritted teeth, keeping his voice low.
"Just giving him some words of encouragement, sir,” was Joyce’s answer to Edones.
"Encourage him into this car, will you?”
"I need a moment. Give me time to adjust,” Matt muttered, but Joyce grabbed the neck of his coveralls and hauled him to his feet despite his protests.
"You need to get over this for the sake of your employee. Keep looking at the ground and stay steady.” Joyce kept his hard arm around Matt’s torso, guiding him to the car.
With each step, Matt felt better and by the time he reached the car, he was on his own feet. It wouldn’t have been so bad if they hadn’t landed in the middle of a deserted prairie, for Gaia’s sake. He felt comfortable inside the car, even though Edones and Joyce wanted to open their windows in the front seats. Matt couldn’t find any position in the back that avoided the breeze coming from their windows.
The rental car was legally constrained to only operate on autonav. Edones told the car their destination and it smoothly turned and took them around the hangar. It edged into traffic along a wide boulevard that went westward into the city. The landing port was on the outside edge of Alexandria, which explained why they’d landed in the wild.
"Look at that.”
"Beautiful.”
Edones and Joyce were pointing out a raucous display of orange, yellow, brown, and green to one side of the road. They were flowering plants about three feet high, with bright petals and dark brown centers. They looked tangled and chaotic to Matt, wildly encroaching onto the boulevard. They needed tending and he thought they looked garish in the bright sunshine. Purple sprigs appeared here and there, peeking out from the warmer colors.
Matt started sneezing and his eyes watered. His sinuses clogged quickly and he used one of the extra ampoules he’d been given for planet-side irritants. He wished he had more of them. Of course, if Edones and Joyce closed their windows, he could breathe the air from the car’s particulate filters. They probably thought they were toughening him up by exposing him to hot, dry wind full of pollen, dust, bugs, and only Gaia knew what else.
Matt sat back and crossed his arms, refusing to complain. Next they’ll be shoving food grown in dirt at me—but there was only so much he’d suffer for Ari. Joyce’s sly comment irritated him, but perhaps that’s what Joyce intended. Matt knew he’d gone beyond feeling "professional” about her, but this wasn’t about love. Soon after he’d hired her, Matt concluded that he and Ari wouldn’t be compatible—hmm, in that way. Both he and Ari tended to date attractive (pretty) and nontechnical (dumb) sorts. Sometimes Ari even went for the nonprofessional (couldn’t hold a job) types. He was realizing that both their tastes ensured that neither he nor Ari formed permanent relationships, which was a revelation of sorts, but not close to Joyce’s insinuation.
Matt shifted his attention to the traffic on and beside the roads. They’d periodically passed through greenbelt and lightly populated suburban areas, but now had reached business and manufacturing districts. The day was apparently a nice one for those planet-born; he could see that Edones and Joyce were trying to suck up every photon possible of the late afternoon sunshine.
Matt, on the other hand, was trying to prevent sensory overload from the breeze, the warm dry air, the pollen, and the dust. Another bout of sneezing overcame him.
When he finished and could breathe again, he watched pedestrians wandering on the sidewalks, doing window-shopping or whatever sort of business people do under the open sky. Remotes weren’t a plague on planetary surfaces; they became too expensive if they had to deal with wind, rain, dust, stronger gravity, and sporadic node coverage. Besides, most government and industrial facilities didn’t permit their use and many businesses, such as restaurants, salons, resorts, and merchants with real inventories, paid for facility shields. Remotes only abounded on space habitats, unfortunately, where kits and parts were readily available, and ComNet coverage permeated every cubic foot of public space.
His body gradually relaxed; he was getting used to the wide open. The sun was setting. Tall buildings threw most of the boulevard into shadow and they dashed through blinding rays of sunlight only at the intersections. They’d been on this same road for the entire trip, and Matt started to get bored and impatient.
"When are we going to get there?” He couldn’t suppress the tired whine in his voice. "Shouldn’t we be at the Commons by now?”
Joyce turned around to face him, looking as if he was desperately trying not to laugh.
"What’s so funny?” Matt crossed his arms.
"Sorry. I just had a flashback of a trip I took with my sons.” Joyce snorted.
Matt raised his eyebrows. He’d never imagined that Joyce had a family. Where did they live? When did he see them? Did they go on assignment with him? Matt sidelined his questions and pointed at his watch.
"It has been over two hours,” Matt said. Just to be sure, he double-checked that his watch was synchronized with a UT source.
"Alexandria’s a big city; we’re having to cover most of its width.” Joyce sounded as if he were placating a child, which didn’t sooth Matt’s nerves.
"Can you check the car’s nav?”
Joyce leaned forward and tapped on the nav screen. "We’ve got another forty minutes,” he said shortly.
"The summer rains have started,” Edones said, unexpectedly turning around. "Did you bring outer-wear, Mr. Journey?”
Matt shook his head. Yet another thing that the planet-raised always thought about; didn’t they realize that year after year of opening a door and stepping out into the wide open made them different? They tried to acclimate the generational orphans from the ship lines, but it wasn’t the same. Matt didn’t know anybody from his orphanage who
had settled planet-side. Everyone went back to space, one way or another.
"We can stop and get you something.” Edones waved vaguely at the merchandise outlets they were passing.
"I’ll be fine. Don’t delay on my account.” Matt’s voice was tight. He leaned back in the seat and looked away.
That was how his own stubbornness led to him shivering uncontrollably in the lobby of the Addict Commons. He was drenched with warm rain when he ran from the car through the automatic glass doors into cool air. Shaking his dripping arms, he waited as Edones came in and threw back his hood. Both Edones and Joyce had ultrathin coats folded in the cargo pockets on their uniforms.
The lobby was white and institutional, devoid of seating. The heavy attendant behind the desk appeared to be younger than Matt and was wearing the standard healer-green tunic, but it was dirty. Was that blood smeared across his lower torso? The attendant’s dark eyes flickered over Matt and dismissed him, focusing instead upon Edones’s uniform.
"If you’re here for that Major Kedros, you’re too late,” said the attendant. "She was picked up last night.”
Her hangover felt familiar. Waking to disorientation and the aftereffects of overindulgence had become customary. She was starving; her body was processing smooth and alcohol, but when? Where?
Ariane quietly groaned as she raised her head. She squinted against the bright light. After her eyes adjusted, she realized that curtains were drawn but the rough weave glowed with direct morning or afternoon sunshine. That, combined with the secure feeling she couldn’t fall out of bed, meant she might be on Hellas Prime. The gravity was too strong for Hellas Daughter.
Ariane rolled to move herself to a sitting position and did fall out of bed. Whether her body hadn’t adjusted to the gravity or whether it was the hangover, she didn’t know. Luckily, the bed was on a low platform and she caught herself before her face hit the slate floor. The rough, natural surface felt cool to her hands.
She pushed herself up and sat on her knees. She was wearing some sort of hospital gown that tangled and twisted around her thighs. Her fingers caressed the slate tiles, the rough grout, and the dark wood of the bed platform. Her glance traveled about the room, noting the dark heavy beams on the ceiling, the adobe walls, and furniture made from dark wood and leather in clean straight lines. The curtains were natural, made of rough-woven cloth in a light color that complemented the olive and cream bedding, the multicolored slate, and the tan walls.
The temperature was mild, reminding her of summer on Nuovo Adriatico. She smelled the sharp spice of late summer flowers. A breeze ruffled the curtains and moved through the high-ceilinged room to an open doorway that was twice her height. There was an open beam across the top of the opening and she could see more slate continuing into a foyer.
Her nerves basked in the restful natural materials. They were also pricey. The decorating, the materials, the open windows, and the modern structure all said that they were expensive, under their Zen-spa-retreat style.
Ariane leaned back onto her heels, and her shin complained by sending a shooting pain up and down her leg. She remembered Nathaniel Wolf Kim, holding a club. Flashes of images: Kim, Parmet, Guillotte, an unshaved face leaning close to hers—the Addict Commons. Was that before or after she signed over Matt’s future to Parmet? She was going to be sick.
She staggered into the unobtrusive bathroom. She barely saw the high windows and slanted sunshine traveling up the walls before she made for the ubiquitous toilet. Down on her knees. Arms braced on the bowl like an old friend. Dry heaves. This is familiar.
She had no food in her stomach. When had she last eaten? How much alcohol and smooth had the Terrans pumped into her? She was sure they used legal substances, but Gaia only knew how much. Her implant would show blood sugar and alcohol levels over time, as well as the current UT. She pressed the access contact embedded under her skin and pointed toward the most likely wall, commanding a display.
Nothing happened. She tried all the walls, just in case. The rough adobe was an unlikely displayable surface, but she’d seen amazing things done with thin organodisplay materials. She tried voice-only ComNet access and decided that there were no active nodes available. Somebody had taken naturalness to the extreme. The slate continued into the bath, where there was both a shower and large soaking tub. Somebody also had a lot of money and wasn’t shy about spending it on luxurious amenities.
Ariane craved a hot shower. She stepped toward the shower, dropping her gown, and shied away from movement she saw in the corner of her eye. It was a full-length mirror so, unfortunately, she glimpsed her entire body in its current glory. She usually prided herself on keeping her frame trim and muscular. Now the green and yellow bruising that marched up her legs, reappeared on her shoulders and arms, and covered her face overwhelmed any possibility of looking healthy or sexy. That was old bruising, but there were new bruises on the insides of her thighs. She remembered the face of a young man, unshaven, leering over her—had she been raped?
Her heart pounded, yet she was numb. She started the hot water and stepped into the shower, hoping to shed the feeling of slime and filth. She leaned against the wall and let the water pour down her back. Fragments of memory floated about in her head, with enough glimpses of close sneering faces to disturb her; she tried to piece the wreckage together and figure out what had happened in the Commons. Nothing made sense.
She felt carefully around her vaginal area, prodding for sensitivity. She didn’t have any pain or bruising. Should she get a medical exam? An exam could identify all abuses to her body, including rape. She didn’t have to worry about pregnancy, thanks to her implant, but did she want to know what happened in the Commons? She couldn’t tell anybody about the actual kidnapping if she was going to protect Brandon. Besides, going to a medic and saying that she didn’t know what had happened to her was a humiliation she’d never expected.
Maybe later. When she had her cover story pieced together. When her flashes of memory made sense.
Ariane shivered and pushed up the temperature of the water. Only by the grace of Gaia had she avoided this fate in the past. She’d experienced blackouts before, but she’d always had confidence in her surroundings to keep her safe. She’d been careful to do her drinking and drugging with people she trusted and she stuck with people who took care of her. She always had people she could call.
Like Matt—and look how I screwed him. As far as he’s concerned, I went on another binge and signed over his contracts in a fog of alcohol and smooth. He warned me, and now he’ll never forgive me. Worse, she knew that faced with the same circumstances, she’d sign over the contracts again.
Placing her forehead against the slate, she cried silently. Painful, wracking gasps—if that was crying. I’m so tired of this existence. Owen gave me a spanking-new life and I ran it into the ground too.
She didn’t know how long she stood in the shower or how much water she wasted; she didn’t care. Eventually she steadied. There wasn’t any point in regrets. Even if she could live everything over again, she couldn’t see herself doing anything different. She’d make the same decisions. I’m born to be a fuckup in whatever life I’m given.
Ariane turned off the shower, stepped out, and toweled off. Looking down at her discarded gown with distaste, she searched about and found a folded white robe in a cabinet. She wrapped herself in the thick, thirsty, clean fabric.
She circled several times around the bath and bedroom in her bare feet, searching for her uniform. She’d have settled for any clothing, but it looked as though she was stuck with the robe.
The rooms were so large that she now called it a suite, since it had a foyer. Peeking her head out of the foyer double doors, Ariane discovered a large central hall that was open on both ends. She saw the flash of pink and white as someone entered doors at the far end, toward the center of the complex. Was this some sort of hospital? Her suite was on the outer part of the hallway. Beyond her suite, a fountain splashed in the open air of a pa
tio. Drawn to the delightful sound, she walked onto the patio and found a man was sitting on a low platform, facing outward to the setting sun.
In her bare feet, she was so quiet the man didn’t notice her. He wore only loose trousers. He wasn’t healthy; crisscrosses of scars, unmistakably from surgery, sprawled across his back and torso. He was flexible enough to sit in a lotus position, but he had tubes in his neck, shoulders, and down his arms. Implants for analysis and dispensing drugs appeared as raised lumps on his upper arms and thighs.
Her feet felt the transition from smooth, cool slate to warm sandstone. She padded around to the side of the platform to study his face, seeing rivers of pain etched on the unfamiliar features of indeterminate age, anywhere from forty to eighty years. His eyes were closed, the eyelids lightly covered with fine wrinkles, the lashes dark but thin.
She turned to the view he faced and drew in her breath. They were near the edge of an escarpment. Below her stretched a wide valley that was the product of erosion. It was wild, perhaps greenbelt. On the other side of the valley, grasslands rose into foothills; then foothills merged into rough mountains, kilometers away. The sun setting behind the mountains made them more ominous, turning them dark with bright edges. Rays of light shot out across the hazy sky, deepening it to aqua with firebrands for clouds.
"Now you see why I bought this land.” The man’s voice made her jump. She turned to see a stranger’s face looking up at her. His unfamiliar smile pulled crookedly to one side, probably because of nerve degradation or internal scarring.
"Welcome to the Demeter Sanctuary, Ari. Your registration at the Addict Commons was a matter of public record and I arbitrarily decided to check you out, so to speak, overriding the objections of a black market organ broker. I hope you’ll like these accommodations better.”
Peacekeeper Page 25
