Mercury's Orbit

by Lia Black

  “Look, Sean; you know I care about you. I want to see you happy.”

  Sean looked across the table at him. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  It was somewhat ironic, how much easier it was to talk openly now that they were no longer a couple. Sean sipped his coffee, waiting to see where this was going.

  “Mercury left you everything, including enough money to make sure he had the best care possible. You don’t have to be there every day and night. You need to take a break, take some time for yourself, relax.”

  “What makes you think I’m not relaxed? It’s peaceful, watching somebody else sleep.” Sean said, working his bottom lip between his teeth. It was a pathetic attempt at a joke that landed flat between them.

  “Sean,” Evan sighed. “I’m just telling you that I think it would be good for you to get away for a while. Get out, meet people…”

  “Date somebody. Is that where this is going?” He was doing his best not to get angry and take it out on Evan. Evan was trying to be helpful, and Sean really believed Evan did care about him. His anger wasn’t about that; it was about how unfair life was. Yes, he was tired and frustrated and falling apart. He was mad at Mercury for not waking up, mad at himself because he couldn’t stop hoping…waiting.

  “Yes,” Evan answered. His blue eyes were staring hard at him, but Sean couldn’t meet his scolding gaze for more than a second at a time.

  Sean sipped his coffee as an excuse not to look, catching his dark reflection in the mug before setting it down. He wiped at some imaginary crumbs on the tabletop, weighing his words carefully. “Evan, I appreciate your concern, but I’m doing all right, considering. Mercury isn’t dead.”

  “Neither are you,” Evan countered. “Sean, I’m not telling you to run out and get married. I just think you should be enjoying the company of someone who can reciprocate. It’s not healthy, what you’re doing to yourself. Mercury wouldn’t want you to be unhappy…”

  Sean barked out a laugh that was a little too loud. He met a few surprised glances and waited for them to look away before he spoke again. “You don’t know him.” Once again, it was only Sean who got the joke.

  Evan’s face contorted as he stopped short of taking a sip from his mug. His upper lip curled as his eyes narrowed. It was an ugly expression—he looked appalled. “You’re devoting yourself to a man who wants you to suffer?”

  “No, it’s…hard to explain.” Sean raked his fingers across his scalp. He’d gotten a haircut a few hours ago and the product the stylist had used made his hair feel like plastic. Pausing, he was reminded of the texture of Mercury’s long hair before he dropped his hand back to the table. “I don’t want him to wake up and me not be there.”

  Evan slid his hand across the table, stilling Sean’s hands as he turned his empty mug between them. His skin was so much warmer than Mercury’s. “Sean, it’s been nine months. He’s not going to wake up, and even if he does, he’s not going to be a person anymore.” Evan was just repeating the prognosis given by Mercury’s doctors. It was a prognosis that would likely be accurate if it was for anyone other than Mercury Fie. Sean pursed his lips. Evan sounded just like everybody else. Granted, from the outside looking in, Sean’s devotion to Mercury seemed obsessive… unhealthy, and maybe it was. But he’d accepted it.

  Unfortunately, he knew how tenacious Evan could be. “There is someone I’d like you to meet. He’s a co-worker; a paralegal. Younger, but not too young, just turned thirty.”

  Sean wondered if it was a jab at the age difference between him and Mercury—almost fifteen years—but then decided he was reading too much into it. “If I go out on one date, will you stop talking about this?”

  “If you go out and genuinely give it a chance, then yes.” Evan seemed almost smug. Maybe he had a right to be, but playing tug o’ war against an unconscious man was really not a sport.

  “Fine,” Sean sighed. “One date.” His stomach twisted, the coffee inside turning to acid. He didn’t want this, but maybe Evan was right—maybe he needed it.

  “I’ll set it up. No pressure, just have a few drinks and see where it goes.”

  Sean stared at himself in the mirror with an uncomfortable mix of guilt and anticipation churning his insides. He had birds in his stomach—crows fighting over carrion; their wings scraped and tickled, but their beaks threatened to tear him apart. Maybe this was normal. Maybe this was how acceptance felt. He didn’t like it one bit. Every minute closer to the time he’d promised to meet the man—Alex—was stacking up and weighing him in the direction of calling it off and running back to the silent safety of Mercury’s slumber.

  No pressure. Just saying that didn’t make it so.

  Sean met Alex in the lounge of an upscale hotel near the courthouse. It wasn’t unusual, but it felt like everything was stacking up—maybe there was a jeweler next door and Sean would be expected to go from tormented to engaged in one evening. He washed down the bitter taste in his mouth with a shot of whiskey.

  “Sean?” an attractive, dark haired man asked, approaching him with his hand outstretched. “I’m Alex.” White teeth flashed behind plump lips that gleamed with a light coat of lip balm.

  Alex was attractive in the same way that Evan was—all well groomed and manicured. Although he was dressed casually, it looked like he’d stepped out of a men’s fashion magazine—every piece was coordinated but not contrived, finely tailored, and expensive. Since inheriting Mercury’s vast amount of wealth, Sean could have easily spent thousands of credits on a similar wardrobe, but, when it came down to it, he was still just a blue-collar man. Suits felt like a costume that he wore for special events.

  Sean grasped his hand, again reminded that this heat was human body temperature. It wasn’t like Mercury’s January in July.

  He must have zoned out for a minute because Alex cocked his head and Sean realized he hadn’t released his hand yet. He mumbled a hasty apology, letting him go.

  “Ev’ said you were attractive; I didn’t expect you to be this good-looking.” Alex’s smile hadn’t faded. The compliment seemed sincere, and that’s what made Sean nervous. The bartender had all ready poured him another shot and Sean tossed it back without hesitating. “Sorry.” He apologized again, realizing the gesture could seem insulting without an excuse. “I’m just…it’s been a long time.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Evan told me.” Alex slid onto the barstool next to him, his hand rested warm just above Sean’s knee.

  “Told you what? I mean—what did he say?”

  “That your lover was in a coma. Not expected to wake up. I’m sorry.”

  Sean snorted a bitter laugh, then hid it behind a cough. Nobody seemed to recognize him here. He’d moved away from his apartment downtown, following Mercury to the secure facility where he slept. It had been hard saying goodbye to Pearl, but she seemed happy to hear her assessment of Mercury—of people in general—was right. Nobody got so broken by themselves. It was suffering that had damaged Mercury to the point of crime. The view was an unpopular one in Sean’s peer group. Despite the nice things they’d said about him during the trial, he no longer felt comfortable in the fraternity of cops.

  “Yeah,” Sean said with a small nod.

  A silence passed between them, welcome for Sean but probably uncomfortable for Alex. He interrupted it in favor of being polite. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  “Sure.” Alex smiled. He had dimples like Evan. “I’ll have what you’re having.”

  39

  He was drunk, or at least drunk enough to believe he was having fun. Every time thoughts of Mercury crept in, Sean would feel his chest tighten, and he’d soothe it with a drink. He’d had enough that when Alex suggested they get a room at the hotel, it actually sounded like a good idea.

  But now, kneeling on a mattress, his clothes jumbled in a chair, a condom in one hand and his dick in the other, Sean was sobering up fast. What the fuck was he doing? What if Mercury woke up and he wasn’t there—because he was out fucking som
e guy he’d just met two hours ago?

  The condom fell out from between his fingers, landing like pink gossamer on the sheet as Sean’s hands started shaking. Alex, who was on his hands and knees in front of him a moment ago had turned, his forehead puckered and eyes narrowed with concern. “Sean? Baby, you okay?”

  The world began to compress into a dark pinhole. Sean felt his chest go tight and shook his head, struggling through an explanation. “N-no. No I’m not. This is…I…I’m sorry. I can’t do this…I’m not…I’m not ready.” Sean tried to remember to breathe as panic blossomed inside of him, spreading its ragged petals through to the darkest places in his mind. What if something happened, like Mercury finally died and Sean hadn’t been there to say goodbye, to hold him one last time…

  Sean wiped roughly at his eyes as he untangled his clothes from Alex’s. He felt like he was late; like he’d overslept or been stuck in traffic when he needed to be somewhere to protect and reassure somebody he loved. He loved Mercury. As unhealthy as it was, he loved him to obsession.

  Alex heaved a heavy sigh. “I get it. Evan said you’d be tough. I hope this guy knows how lucky he is to have somebody so devoted.”

  Sean appreciated that Evan hadn’t sugar-coated it for Alex, and that Alex at least understood that Sean’s rejection wasn’t about him personally. He seemed like a good guy, and Sean hoped he’d find somebody who could appreciate that. With a small nod of appreciation, Sean finished dressing and left what was probably his last chance to join the normal world again.

  The cold air hit him like a slap once he got outside, tears freezing to gritty shards at the corners of his eyes. It made him feel lighter, his panic less hot and crushing, but it didn’t slow his urgency. He pressed the button on a lamp post to hail a cab, pacing in a tight line and trying to keep himself from just running the entire way. The facility was six miles away through near-freezing temperatures and newly-fallen snow. Even with the wait, there was no way he could get there faster than a cab could drive.

  It was after midnight on a Wednesday, so the streets were relatively clear, and a cab arrived quickly, eager to make a fare. Unlike mass public transit, most cabs were still driven by people, the need to be nimble was something that only very advanced AI could handle; something far too expensive to be wasted on driving around. Sean swiped his card through the scanner on the outside of the vehicle and the door unlocked, verifying he had the funds. “Saint Augustine’s,” Sean said through the partition to the anonymous driver. He heard a grunt that might have been acknowledgment or surprise. Despite its traditional use of a saint’s name to designate a hospital, there was no religion there. It was a locked-down facility, a secure place to hold people considered dangerous even when they were comatose. It also protected the residents from media attention or revenge. Since Sol Labs had lost interest in Mercury and were tied up with their own legal proceedings, its protection was more than adequate.

  Although the drive was a short one, Sean used the few moments of quiet it afforded to try and piece his head back together. He took a few deep breaths. It’s going to be all right now. We’re almost there.

  The cab pulled up to the curb, its door opening automatically and Sean climbed out, letting out his last even breath. St. Augustine’s wasn’t a big place; basically a gray, two-story, concrete box. During the day, heavily filtered sunlight came in through narrow barred windows and thick frosted composite that traveled around the upper perimeter of each level. Had it simply been sitting on an average street corner, it would have been completely overlooked, but its benign exterior was surrounded by an energy field contained behind a very high fence with razor wire along the top. At the front was a guard post with three well-trained, well-armed guards on duty at all times. Because Sean was probably the only person who ever visited here, they didn’t stick to rigorous visiting hours. One of the guards came out to meet him as Sean came closer to the security shack.

  “Mr. Argeneau. It’s late for you; I was wondering if you’d be out tonight.”

  “Sergeant. Perry.” Sean tipped his head, trying to keep his voice from trembling.

  Even though they had been through the ritual a hundred times by now, Sean still raised his arms as one guard checked him with a scanner and Perry patted him down.

  “Check,” the guard holding the scanner said and exchanged a nod with Sgt. Perry.

  “Check,” Perry confirmed. “Okay Mr. Argeneau, you’re clear to enter. I’ll buzz you in and let them know you’re here.”

  Sean nodded and began to make his way to the front door. The world was moving too slowly around him while his insides squirmed and wrestled like squirrels in a cage. Almost there.

  “Mr. Argeneau.” The attendant at the front desk greeted him, her face as grim as habit. That was a good sign, nothing noteworthy.

  Sean muttered a “good evening,” under his breath as he signed into the log. His name was always the only one in it. Columns upon columns of his own handwriting, day after day. He swallowed back the tightness rising in his throat. This was his life now, and he’d affirmed the decision to throw away the rest of the world with his actions tonight. It was painful to see Mercury, day after day, night after night, hooked up to machines that fed him, measured his vitals, recorded the same flat Beta waves and peaked Deltas. But it was more painful not to see him.

  When the lock on the door was released, Sean entered Mercury’s dark room and a thousand pounds of regret dropped from his shoulders. Mercury was fine. He was the same as he was yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. Relief came out as a sigh and Sean hurried to the bed, dropping down into the chair without taking off his coat. He took Mercury’s hand and the weight of the situation, of guilt, loneliness, heartache, hit him all at once. He kissed the cool, dry skin of Mercury’s knuckles with tears coursing down his face.

  “I love you…and I hate you so much…” his throat tightened around an invisible rock as he squeezed Mercury’s hand, his face buried in the sheets that smelled like him. Sean’s body shook with sobs so intense that he could barely breathe as it all came out. Everything he’d been holding back since Mercury used his father’s gun to blow a hole into his skull to destroy the thing that Sol Labs was willing to kill for; all to save Sean’s life. Mercury’s ability to heal quickly had left the entry-point scar just a sunburst on his forehead. A constant reminder that Sean could pine for a thousand years and it still wouldn’t equal the sacrifice Mercury had made for him.

  For the first time since he was a child, Sean had cried himself to sleep. When he woke up, his hand was almost numb, and the room was just beginning to lighten as the sun rose behind the clouds outside. He sighed and raised his head. Mercury’s fingers were curled around his hand. Sean stared, reminding himself it was likely an involuntary response. Mercury’s body had gone through the occasional tremors that the doctor told Sean was like a CPU hitting a bad sector and trying to recover. It would trip over something that was damaged and then carry on. His gaze shifted to Mercury’s face, always so still and placid, always asleep.

  But his eyes were open; glazed, but staring at Sean.

  “Oh shit…” Sean’s heart stopped and he stared back, wondering if Mercury had died…until he blinked.

  “Ssshitshit holy shit!” Sean gasped and reached across to the wall, smacking the call button until his hand felt bruised.

  40

  Although Mercury had come out of his coma, there was a lot about him that remained sleeping. He didn’t speak, and his gaze was always distant. While he was able to walk after a few weeks, his movements were almost mechanical. Sometimes he stared at his hands, watching the fingers flex as though he’d only just discovered they were there. The only time he seemed to show some awareness was when Sean fed him. He’d lock his gaze onto Sean’s and obediently open his mouth for whatever processed glop was considered food. Like a baby bird for its parent. Otherwise he’d staunchly refuse to acknowledge anybody, and Sean felt a sense of duty to make sure they didn’t have to re
sort to a feeding tube.

  Sean had learned to braid hair, to keep the staff from having to shave Mercury’s off. It was just too much trouble for them to brush it and wash it so Sean did both, wishing he’d thought about doing so when Mercury was still alive…aware. Sean swallowed back the tightness in his throat as he came into the facility for his daily visit.

  “He’s in the day room,” Byron said as Sean passed through the security scanner. Byron was a nurse who counted Mercury among his charges. They were a study in contrasts. Byron was actually taller than Mercury and thick everywhere. His torso was a huge barrel and his arms had that bow that came with having muscle stacked upon muscle. His skin was a warm brown and his eyes were hazel, his black hair was twisted into dreadlocks. By comparison, Mercury was a pale wisp, his skin as white as ice. He was so thin that it would seem Byron could easily snap him in half, but Byron was gentle where Mercury had been the one with enhanced strength and propensity for violence. Byron’s face was alive with expression, Mercury’s remained as still and somber as a corpse.

  Most of the staff at Hidden Meadows were men, or women who were strong enough to handle the occasional violent outbursts of some of the residents. They kept stunners on their hips, and had the swagger of military. Hidden Meadows was not a place for compassion or recovery. It was a regimented storage facility like Saint Augustine’s, housing criminals too fragile to interact with a regular prison community, but too dangerous to be sent to a less secure environment.

  “Thanks,” Sean said, forcing a smile as he tried to bolster his defenses for more disappointment. Mercury was often in the day room. They seemed to rotate the residents around during the day, not letting them just lay around in their beds.