by Cara Bristol
“The cloaking device works well,” Inferno said.
“The tech Mysk installed on the Star Crossed is top-notch. He spared no detail,” Shadow agreed dully.
A hatch slid open, and a bridge rolled out. Her stomach clenched, and the lump in her throat swelled. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. She couldn’t break down here and now; she had to be strong for Shadow. The last thing he needed to deal with was a hysterical female. She dug her fingernails into her palm. “I’m not seeing a crew member or pilot.” Her voice shook, but she was proud she’d managed to speak at all.
“There isn’t any. Once coordinates are programmed, the Star Crossed flies itself. That’s how Mysk delivered the ship,” he explained.
Star Crossed? She choked at the name. “You’re going to be all alone,” she said in a small voice. As hard as parting was for her, it had to be ten times worse for him. He would board that ship and fly into infinity with no one to keep him company, no one to talk to.
“He’ll have an artificial intelligence unit,” Chameleon said. “Mysk said it would have a personality.”
That’s the same as nobody! Chameleon meant well, but that had to be the stupidest comment she’d ever heard.
With all her heart, she prayed Shadow would find his mate and find her quickly. If I can’t have him, I want him to have somebody. He deserved a woman who would love him, care for him, keep him company, make him tea…
“I forgot your tea!” She’d packaged some for him to take but had forgotten it on the kitchen table. Tears slipped from her eyes. Could anything go right? Shadow would face the great unknown, and she couldn’t remember to bring his flipping tea! Tears fell faster, and her shoulders shook. Dammit. She didn’t want to cry. Not yet.
“It’s okay. It’s okay.” He hugged her, pressing his cheek to her head. “It’s okay.” He rocked her.
It wasn’t okay because it wasn’t about tea but about him leaving, dying, and if she didn’t pull it together now, she never would. She would lose it. Suck it up. Suck it up.
Digging deep, she called on willpower, on her meditative practice, on the universe, on the spirits, got a grip on her emotions, and staunched the tide of tears. “I’m all right. I’ve got it together now.” She squeezed his waist and then pulled out of his embrace, digging for a tissue in her coat pocket. Kevanne, Delia, and Meadow crowded around her, offering their quiet support.
“I’ll be with you in spirit.” Tigre stepped up to Shadow and hugged him. One by one, his brothers approached and offered senseless but heartfelt words.
Mandy pressed a knuckle to her trembling lips.
“Hey, man.” Inferno grabbed him. When they broke apart, Shadow fixed a hard gaze on his brother’s face. “You work it out with Geneva! No excuses. Don’t make any, don’t accept any.”
“I will—and I won’t.” He stepped out of the way to let Psy approach.
“I can ease your turmoil by eliminating some or most of what you’re feeling,” the Verital said. Wipe his memory—of her. That’s what Psy meant. Shadow had explained that Veritals could recover, implant, or erase memories.
Shadow shook his head vehemently. “No. Thank you, but no.”
“Okay. I figured you’d say that, but I wanted to offer.”
Shadow turned to her then, and, in the space of a heartbeat, they clung to each other. He tasted of salt and sorrow, of alien spice and love, of that last cup of tea they’d shared, and a forever farewell.
When they separated, he grabbed her hands and held them against his chest. His tormented gaze ripped open her soul. “Promise me something?”
She would do anything for him. “What?”
“Live. Live your life. Find a mate to love.”
She shook her head. “Oh, Shadow, no…” She would never forget him. Never.
“No, listen.” He gave her a little shake. “Live. Live like you were meant to live. Live for me. For us. None of us knows how long we have. Find your joy, your bliss, and don’t let it go. If that’s with another man, then so be it. My wish is for you to be happy.”
She was meant to be with him. He was her bliss. “I pray for you to find your genmate,” she said brokenly. He had to live. He had to.
They shared another fierce, bruising kiss, then he grabbed his rucksack of clothing, marched up the gangway, and boarded the ship. The hatch sealed, and, in a wink, the vessel disappeared, leaving only compressed field grass to show it had been there at all.
A keening wail erupted from her throat as she broke down, shuddering with a storm of sobbing. Kevanne hugged her, and the other women gathered around as she cried.
* * * *
Blue lights flashed, and then the ship lifted off and shot into the sky. Shadow felt as if he could throw up—not because of the G forces but because of leaving. Pushing against gravity, he fought his way to the bridge to catch one last glimpse of her, but when he got there, all he could see were clouds. The Star Crossed already had ascended too high.
“Welcome aboard!”
He jumped, startled by the cheerful male voice.
“I am Bob. I will accompany you on your journey,” said the AI, as if he was a tour guide, and this was a vacation. “If you need anything, I am here to assist and make your trip a pleasurable one.”
The bright tone grated on ragged emotions, and he cursed the personality chip. In retrospect, he should have had Mysk install a standard AI with a computerized voice. The more robotic the better. Too late now.
“You were scanned when you boarded the ship. You’ll be pleased to know all Earth contaminates were neutralized.”
Pleased? He didn’t care, but, despite his despondency, he acknowledged carrying Earth bacteria to a new planet could be disastrous to its ecosystem. “Fine,” he replied.
“Ah! So you can speak!” Bob chuckled.
Great. Just great. He gritted his teeth. “How long before we reach the first planet?”
He dreaded that first stop. Dreaded the entire journey, from the depths of his being. If he found a genmate, his DNA would compel him to desire her, but right now, he shrank from the prospect. He hated being at the mercy of biology, which had been programmed by the Xenos. He loved Mandy. He would fight to remember her. If it hadn’t meant a death sentence, he’d turn the ship around right now.
“The first stop is Laxiter 4, a dwarf planet in Scutum Centaurus, which we will reach in four days, five hours, nine minutes, and thirty-two seconds.”
“Can you be more precise?”
“Sarcasm. A joke. I get it.” Bob chuckled. “Be advised the four days, nine minutes, five hours, and now twenty-seven seconds applies to flight time. ETA on the planet may be earlier or later due to the anomalies of jump space.”
In jump space, time curved, which was how Mysk’s people had ended up on Earth fifty years before the castaways.
“Star Crossed is programmed to detect and circumnavigate the curvatures, but the locations are extrapolations, and despite mathematical calculation, the ship could be affected. It is possible that you could arrive on Laxiter 4 either before the lost ’Topians arrive or many years after.”
“Is there a way to get there without going through jump space?”
“Yes—but not before you died of natural causes.”
That could be next month. Or tomorrow. “Stay the present course.”
“That is a wise choice.”
The ship passed the line of demarcation indicating they’d left Earth’s atmosphere and entered outer space. Free of the planet’s gravity, his body went weightless until the artificial grav kicked in.
He left the bridge in search of a cabin to hole up in. He’d hidden his emotions from Mandy, but now his despondency deepened, and the ache of despair sharpened. What did it matter if he lived or died when his reason for living had been left on Earth?
“Do you wish to know when we will reach jump space?”
“No, it doesn’t matter.”
“My apologies, but that is an incorrect statement. It matters very much to
our arrival time. Due to the anomalies of jump space—”
If there was anything worse than a chatty, cheerful AI, it was a chatty, cheerful know-it-all AI. “Stop! When I said it didn’t matter, I meant I don’t wish to hear about it. I don’t care,” he snapped. “Leave me alone. Stop talking to me!”
The ship went blessedly quiet. Shadow cocked his head, listening for…nothing. He’d never experienced such silence. On the Castaway, there had always been noise, his brothers arguing, engines and stabilizers humming, thrusters firing, systems beeping. Mysk’s sound-baffling technology had muted all of it to a subaudible state.
Quiet turned disquieting. Treading the vacant passage, footfalls muffled, he felt detached from himself, as if he floated, a sensation not dissimilar to sublimation. He could almost imagine the fog…
Alarm shot through him, and he examined his hands, his feet. Still there. A pulse throbbed in his neck as his anxiety spiked his heart rate. He stomped to create some noise but got only the softest thud. As the sole passenger on a not-so-small ship soaring into the vast silent black, he suddenly became aware of how very alone he was. “Bob, are you there?”
“I’m here.”
“You weren’t speaking.”
“You ordered me not to.”
“I’m sorry if I was rude, if I hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t. I don’t have feelings. I do, however, have a personality chip, enabling me to provide entertainment, conversation, and advice.”
“Okay on the former two. Hold the latter until I ask for it.”
“Very well. Would you like to hear a knock-knock joke?”
Chapter Sixteen
“Don’t go. Stay for a while,” Kevanne urged. “We can go into the house, have some cocoa or coffee. Maybe a shot of Kahlua or brandy.”
“That’s a good idea,” Delia chimed in.
“Yes,” Meadow concurred. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
Alone was exactly what she needed to be. She’d managed to stop crying and pull herself together enough to tell the group she was leaving. She appreciated their concern, she really did. The women had crowded around her and hugged her, and the ’Topians were sympathetic to her plight, but they had their own grief to deal with. They’d tried to remain stoic, but now that he was gone, sorrow and worry were etched into their faces. They had lost a comrade, a brother.
“No, please. I…have to go. I need…to be alone right now.” Her emotions were so brittle, the slightest little ping could shatter her into a thousand pieces.
“All right.” Thankfully Kevanne conceded. “I’ll come by later and open up the store for you.”
Shadow had departed right after first light. Inner Journey was supposed to open in a few hours. “There’s no need. I’m closing the store today.” Tomorrow, too. She wasn’t sure when she’d be ready to face the world again.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you have my number. Call me if you need anything, or if you just want to talk.”
“Thank you.” She wouldn’t call, but she appreciated the concern. She hugged Kevanne and then Delia and Meadow.
She held together until she got to her car, but as she drove down the gravel lane away from the lavender farm, she burst into tears. Her chest clenched so hard it hurt, and, wracked by grief, every muscle ached. It wasn’t just that the man she loved was gone, and she’d never see him again, but she felt as if they’d sent him off to die.
This must be how the families of victims suffered when they waited in vain for news of their loved one’s fate, while knowing in their hearts he or she couldn’t have survived the plane crash or natural disaster. Like them, she would never receive closure, but she knew. His send-off had been no bon voyage, it was a funeral.
Though blinded by tears, she got home and parked in the alley, letting herself in through the rear entrance. After closing all the blinds, she stumbled upstairs.
Two mugs rested on the coffee table, and the forgotten package sat on the counter. He didn’t even get his tea…
She powered down her phone, tossed it onto the counter, ran into the bedroom, and flung herself onto the bed. Burying her face in the pillow smelling of him, she wept.
Chapter Seventeen
“We have been traveling for one day, three hours, and four minutes. We are about to enter jump space,” Bob announced.
“Thank you for the update.” Shadow rolled over on his bunk.
“You wish to proceed?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“You’re aware not all the time anomalies can be avoided? Star Crossed could encounter minor curvatures. If we encounter a time shift, we can’t undo it.”
“Understood. Proceed.”
The instant the ship plunged into jump space, the vessel shook and its gravity simulator glitched, wreaking havoc with his body. Weightless, he levitated above his bunk and then hit the mattress, as if he’d suddenly gained a thousand pounds. He was so heavy, he couldn’t lift his arm. Then normalcy returned when the ship broke out of jump space, but he fell deeper into despondency with the knowledge, he was now light years away from Mandy.
How could he bond with another woman when he loved her? She had become the moon, the stars, the reason for his existence. She was all he’d ever desired and dreamed of. Though their time together had been short, it had been more meaningful than the sum total of all his days. A second with her was worth ten years with someone else. He would do anything for her—he’d die for her.
He bolted upright.
What. The. Herian. Am. I. Doing?
He would die for her. He’d rather live two days with her than a lifetime without her.
How could he have been so stupid?
He leaped up. “Bob! Turn the ship around! Take me home to Earth.”
“Plotting coordinates now…and…done.”
“I’m going to die, but at least I’ll spend my last days with Mandy.”
“All organic beings die and decay,” Bob said matter-of-factly. “People, animals, plants, bacteria—death is a part of the cycle of life.”
“Except most get to live out the full cycle,” he pointed out. The thought should have depressed him, but all he could think about was seeing Mandy again. He had a full day of travel before he could reach Earth. If only he’d come to his senses sooner!
He clutched his rose quartz pendant. “Please don’t let me die before I get home,” he prayed aloud to Mandy’s spirits.
“I would not let you die,” Bob said. “I am programmed to ensure your safety.”
“Can you save me from sublimating into nothingness?” he retorted.
“No—”
“I thought not.”
“That situation will not arise. I am familiar with the genetic programming of Vaporians. Upon reaching adulthood, you must bond with a member of the opposite sex who carries the same genetic marker, or you sublimate spontaneously with increasing frequency until you cease to exist. It is quite tragic, and many Vaporians die as a result. Fortunately, you have met your genmate, so that will not happen to you. You will live a long and full life, barring an unforeseen accident.”
“I don’t have a genmate.”
“I must correct your misstatement of fact. Upon boarding the ship, you received a full body scan, which, besides removing the contaminants, indicated you had mated with a genetic match.”
Shadow went still. He didn’t dare believe in case the bubble of hope burst. His hand flew to his throat. “My mating glands never activated.”
“That is an incorrect statement. Your glands were activated; they just did not swell. The anti-inflammatory contaminants in your system suppressed the response.”
“What contaminants?”
“The ones I attempted to tell you about when you boarded the ship.”
“What were they?” he almost shouted. Was the AI being deliberately obtuse?
“The analysis showed a heavy concentration of lemon balm, licorice root, a
nd turmeric.”
“Tea? Tea kept my mating glands from swelling?” The tea he’d been drinking for weeks? He swayed on his feet as he recalled Mandy scooping leaves and powders from the different canisters—remembered he’d had the start of a sore throat when he’d met her.
The soreness had ceased after drinking the tea. Herian!
“The herbs could be steeped in hot water and ingested. I would add that individually those ingredients would not have affected your physiology so severely, but the combination would certainly have prevented or halted any swelling in your mating glands.”
“Other people drink tea!” Inferno had had some. But did he have the same kind?
“The effect is unique to Vaporians. The combination of ingredients would have only mild effects on other species such as humans, Luciferans, Saberians, and Avians. Did you know that chocolate, which is enjoyed by most humans without deleterious effects, is quite toxic to their canine best friends…” Bob prattled on about the effects various edibles had on different life-forms.
The ship lurched, throwing Shadow against the bunk. Again, the gravity simulator glitched, sending his body floating upward before crashing onto the deck when gravity returned seconds later, but he’d never felt lighter, more buoyant.
“Mandy is my genmate!” he shouted.
“I do not know your genmate’s name.”
“I do! That’s all that matters.”
“That is a true statement.”
“How long before we reach Earth now?”
“Twenty-six hours and nine minutes.”
“So we arrive tomorrow.” It would be the longest day of his life. He’d be counting every second.
“We will arrive in twenty-six hours and nine minutes our time. Whether it is tomorrow on Earth cannot be determined. Ship sensors indicate the Star Crossed did encounter curvature going through jump space the first time, and another one as we passed through again. It is impossible to predict what day or even year it will be on Earth.”
