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than MedAid right now, so they still have shuttles passing back and forth daily. Doesn’t do any good to have a revolution if everyone starves to death in the meantime, I guess.”
Riv looked at Ducks again, trying to see anything like a spark of recognition, but there was nothing.
He turned back to Ella, nodding.
“Let’s get him out of here.”
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Chapter Four
Riv was in his bunk, arms bent behind his head, when the first beep came, and he almost missed it below the strong current of the music he was playing. Turned away from his screen, he nearly jumped out of his skin when the generic male comm voice spoke up. “Pryce Markham requests a conversation.”
“How are you?” The voice coming across the connection flowed smoothly enough, but the perfectly flat note to each word, as though they’d all been recorded separately and strung together like beads on a necklace, made it obvious that it was another computer generation. It was both a thrill and a disappointment, knowing that Ducks wanted to talk, but still had to use help to do it.
“I’m great, even better now. It’s so great to see you again.” Riv didn’t add that the last time he’d heard from Ducks in any capacity had been three months back, in a message that he still read every few days. He hadn’t been expecting the newsy letter that read like a missive from summer camp, full of the truths of slow recovery and a sarcastic humor that conveyed all too well in the written form.
Crossing his legs, he settled more comfortably on the bunk. “Bin, that’s the captain, has been working our asses off. His wife, Del, is off visiting her brother, so the old bastard has been on a tear. Figures if he has to suffer, all of us need to suffer. I think he’s still trying to make me regret taking that month with ReliefCorp.”
“So you didn’t go back to it after Maltana?”
“No.” Ducks didn’t seem to be accusing, but Riv still felt almost guilty over the admission. “After your friend, Ella, and I got you to the spaceport, I barely made the last of the ReliefCorp shuttles. I spent another ten-day on one of their cruisers, helping sort out refugees, but by that point it was pretty clear they were off Maltana for the foreseeable future. I figured I should get back to work.”
Ducks’ smile widened. “You don’t look any worse for wear. Are you sure your captain is working you hard enough?”
“What can I say? My good looks come out under pressure.” He was inordinately pleased, to the point of an almost painfully broad grin, at the conversation. Ducks had sought him out. After the lack of reply to his own letter, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever hear from him again.
Ducks looked down quickly, but he didn’t type anything for a few seconds. “I’ve missed hearing you.”
“I’ve missed babbling incessantly at you. Funny thing, nobody on my crew here seems to like it as much.”
S. Reesa Herberth and Michelle Moore
It got him a smile, and Riv relaxed a little.
“I’m guessing that they’d like to get a word in edgewise. Not so much a problem for me.” Ducks smirked at Riv, who could only laugh in return. “It’s weird to hear this thing talking for me. It doesn’t sound anything like me, you know. Wonder if it’s even a real voice?”
“Are you kidding? The guy who sold his voice for this program is living fat and happy in Napolom by now. You want me to turn it off? I can read your typing on the screen.” He got up from the bed, reaching for his notebook to change his settings.
“I kind of remember my voice now, sometimes…yeah. If you don’t mind, I mean. Until I can talk for myself it seems weird to borrow someone else’s voice.”
“No, of course I don’t mind. Rather wait to hear your voice.” Riv winced. Shit, there was a conversational flow that needed to be diverted. It was entirely too easy to fall into that pattern with Ducks, and he didn’t know if that was ever going to be an option.
Thanks. He reached for something out of sight, and Riv tried not to be fascinated by the line of his throat when he took a long swallow.
“Ping! I love that stuff.” The sudden craving for it made his mouth water.
Maybe I could mail you a case. There seems to be a lot of it here. I forgot it’s bottled on Karibee.
“Yeah, that’s us. Extra fizzy soda, mud and class conflict. Nice beaches too.”
And cute accents. Ducks gave him a quick smile, pushing hair out of his eyes. It’s okay here. Thanks for talking them into having me sent to Karibee. I wish I could get past this, but in the meantime, it’s not a bad place to be. He held up the bottle with that same smile. Like you said, there’s beaches, and the cafeteria is open all the time.
“I always heard good things about the hospital there. Nine out of ten voices in my head agreed that it’s a nice place.” Riv waggled his eyebrows in what he knew was a ridiculous fashion, earning the same in return. He didn’t bother to mention that his father had always spoken highly of the doctors, since it wasn’t really a selling point for him.
I should go have some dinner soon. Somebody told me it was fresh fish tonight. They get all antsy at me if I don’t feel like eating, so I guess I’d better not skip out on it.
“And here I am, looking forward to a reconned dinner and some weak tea.” It was actually pretty easy to look sad over the state of his dinner, especially since he hadn’t had fresh fish in months.
I should let you get to that gourmet feast. But maybe we could do this again?
“Yeah, I’d like that. Gives the crew a break from listening to me, at least until you start complaining.
And then I guess I’ll just talk to the walls.” He tried for a properly self-pitying expression.
Do that and you’ll end up here with me.
Riv glanced between the typed words and Ducks’ face, unsure how to react to the statement. Mentions of his imaginary voices aside, was it okay to joke about the fact that Ducks, willingly or not, was in a 32
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psychiatric facility? It wouldn’t be his first choice of a place to spend a month. Or five. The idea actually scared him more than a little, if he was honest.
Hey, it could be worse. I could be playing piano in a bar in the middle of the jungle, right?
Riv laughed quietly. “Yeah, I guess so.” Some of the tension uncoiled in his neck, and he was grateful for the respite. “It’s… You’re okay, right?”
Ducks settled back in his chair, an odd expression on his face, as if he hadn’t really considered the idea until just then. His mouth quirked, and the soft sigh carried over the channel. I’m okay. Don’t worry about me. I’m good, getting to see you again. Go eat your dinner.
“Thanks. Want to try again tomorrow?”
I’ll try to clear a spot in my busy schedule. He waved, grinning, and the screen blinked out.
The first weeks after Ducks contacted him again sped by, and Riv forgot sometimes that Ducks was still technically ill. He didn’t check out of life anymore, something he’d told Riv himself, and even without the inflection he was proving to be a funny, sarcastic man, with a good knack for shutting Riv up when he needed to. They talked every few cycles at first, then every evening, a cause for much eye rolling amongst the crew of the Melisande.
He wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, when he realized that there was more to it than wanting to check in on a friend, but he could remember exactly when he saw the interest returned. The slow smile that had crept across Pryce’s face, the way he’d hovered his fingers over the keyboard, tapping the keys lightly enough that they clicked, but nothing appeared on the screen. Riv started to say something, not really knowing what he’d be apologizing for, but he cut himself off when a flurry of words started across the screen.
You’re really kind of ridiculously cute when you’re nervous, you know?
&n
bsp; He hadn’t, actually, but the softly fond look was worth any amount of embarrassment, and for a change it was Riv who ducked his head. When he turned back, he was met with a grin, and they went on talking about something else, but for the rest of the conversation he kept losing track of himself, wrapped up in the memory of that moment.
“This seems to be for you.” Del dropped the box on the galley table next to Riv, and stood back, hands on her hips. “Got yourself a secret admirer on Karibee I hear.”
“Oh yeah? Where did you hear that?” Riv stirred his coffee, feigning indifference. He was dying to dig into the package, but damned if he’d give Del that satisfaction.
“I had the unfortunate luck to be with Bin when the latest vid charges came in last night. I’m surprised you didn’t hear the yelling. Most of them seemed to be from Karibee. And then I just happened to notice the return address on this when the station depot gave it to us…” She gestured towards the box.
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Riv grunted. “Bin’s a cheap bastard. Besides, he knows I always pay my own bills. What’s he complaining about?” He hid a grin with one hand as Del practically bounced on the balls of her feet with impatience.
When he didn’t say anything further, she pulled out a chair and plopped down. “He likes to complain but aren’t you going to open that?” The words all ran together, and she propped her chin in her palm, apparently willing to wait him out.
“Why’re you so interested?”
Del had the grace to look disconcerted for a moment, and then she shrugged with a quick laugh. “I’m nosy, you know that. Besides, I’ve just seen Den and spent a hellishly long week trapped in their black-hole threesome of domestic bliss.”
Something of his grief must have shown in his face despite his best attempts to hide it, because Del bit her lip. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Riv forced a smile, lips twisting wryly. “No need to apologize, I promise I’m not a fragile little flower.”
“No, I suppose not. Neither you or me, really. Lucky for us.” She tossed her head, hair flying about in an explosion of red curls. “Not that it matters. I wouldn’t trade Bin for all the credits in the ’verse.”
Jealousy didn’t sit well on either of them, although he was fairly sure that Del’s had more to do with the fact that she’d been passed over for the current Mrs. Lewis Jacquard than anything else. Stung pride rather than his more mundane broken heart. “Your brother with Lew and a girl. Who would ever have thought?”
Del giggled, her expression lightening. “I really don’t need to think about that. I didn’t need to see it either. Why do you think I cut my visit to a ten-day?”
“Right. So you’re just hoping I’ll share some story of depraved sex and unrequited love and erase all that from your mind.”
“Sure, something like that. And the opportunity to tell Denny that you’ve fucked everything cute between Malakeirn and Giverne.” Her grin was wicked and toothy.
Riv blinked. “Damn, woman, I didn’t know you had that viciousness in you. Although if he’s that ecstatically happy, is he going to care?” Gods help him for the shallow and petty wish washing through him, but he did hope that Den would care. That was a broken heart that still hadn’t completely healed, and being on board a ship with Den’s twin sister didn’t always help the process.
“A little jealousy would be good for him. He’ll get too complacent otherwise, what with Lew and Jess both mooning about over him.”
“Because jealousy’s always been so enlightening to me.” He sighed, honesty slipping out before he could stop it. “I hope he’s happy, I really do. But fuck, I miss him, Del.”
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The hand brushing through his hair caught him by surprise. Del had changed more than any of them over the intervening years. The tightly zealous care she’d lavished on Denny had matured and expanded.
Watching her in action at the orphanages she’d helped found was a lesson in both compassion and strength.
She laughed ruefully. “Yeah, me too. I don’t hate Jess. And I actually still like Lew. You know, in a completely nonsexual way now.”
“I don’t dislike him…”
“No, of course not. I don’t doubt that the two of you will be drinking buddies the next time you meet, and fuck buddies the time after that. Now shut up and tell me who’s sending you presents from Karibee.”
“Could be my mum. She still likes to send me cookies.” He grinned at her amiably, fingers laced together in front of him.
“It’s too heavy to be cookies. Open the fucking box!” Del reached into her impossibly tight and alarmingly low-slung pants and pulled out a pocket knife, slapping it down on the top of the carton.
“I don’t know. Could be more of those batik boxers she sent me. I wouldn’t want to be accused of flirting with the captain’s wife…” Fearing imminent dismemberment, he unfolded the blade as he teased her and slid it through the packing tape. Inside the box were a half-dozen well-padded bundles. He sliced one open, unrolling layers of bubble wrap before setting the bottle carefully on the table. He was pretty sure that Del hadn’t missed the rather dopey smile he knew he’d cracked, but she chose not to say anything just then.
“Oh, it’s that god-awful fizzy stuff you used to bribe Denny with. Why the hell would your mom send you that? Doesn’t she care about your teeth at all?”
“Not from her. It’s from Pryce. Ducks.” Yes. Dopey smile, firmly planted on his face.
“Ducks. The guy you found on Maltana? You’re still in touch with him?”
“Right. Like it’s not common knowledge.” He rolled his eyes. “You can’t tell me that you’re that out of the loop.”
Del laughed. “Hey, you can’t blame me for trying. I was hoping you’d let something slip. You know, and give me the gossip coup of the month.” She grabbed a piece of the bubble wrap, absentmindedly popping three or four bubbles in a row. “You’ve been kind of secretive about this guy. We’re curious.
Well, I’m curious. Bin’s foaming at the mouth, wondering if you’re going to up and disappear on him again, going after this Ducks person.”
So yeah, his love life had always been pretty much an open book on the Melisande. Mainly because a lot of it occurred on the Mel. And it wasn’t that he was that embarrassed about his relationship with Ducks.
No, more a matter of not having a clue as to what that relationship actually was. And if he couldn’t accurately describe it to himself, there was no way in hell he was explaining it to anyone else.
Riv sighed. “I’m not going to go running off. He’s still in a facility on Karibee for the foreseeable future. We vid each other. A lot.”
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“And?”
“And what? That’s about it.”
“And, are you going to go visit him? And, is he getting better? And, are you madly in love?” For a second he could see her as the teenage girl he’d first come to know, and her barely hidden giggle did little to put aside the image.
He shrugged, getting up from the table to refill his mug of tea from the pot he’d set on the counter.
“You’ve seemed better since you came back,” she said quietly, and he let her go on as he spooned some sugar into the cup. “Like you’ve finally forgiven yourself for what happened. And maybe like you’re waiting for something, but nobody can figure out what. Bin thinks you’re going to leave us for ReliefCorp permanently.”
“I’m not,” he told her as he sat back down, offering her the mug he’d fixed without her requesting it.
She drank coffee with Bin, but with him it was tea, and she seemed to enjoy the different blends he ordered.
He’d been amused to realize that he was the closest thing she
had to a girlfriend. “I’m not leaving, but I don’t exactly feel like I’m all here, either.”
“So is part of you on Karibee?”
“Hell if I know.”
When he didn’t say anything else, Del scowled. “You’re not going to leave it like that, are you?” she demanded. “You need to be completely someplace, Riv, and you just admitted that it’s not here.”
“Are you trying to get Bin to kick my ass? Because I’m not above telling him that you told me to leave.” He grinned at her annoyed huff and slouched deeper into his chair. Damned if he was going to give her credit for saying out loud what he’d been thinking for the last few weeks. Did he need to leave?
She was suddenly pacing the small galley, table to counter and then behind him so that he had to crane his neck to keep her in view. “We’ve got a lot more in common than you might think, Riv.” He winced as she clenched her hands together, knuckles white. “Did Bin ever tell you why Den and I were looking to get off-world when he picked us up? Because I’m going to guess Denny didn’t.”
Den’s face as he’d first seen him, bruised, painfully thin and unmistakably terrified, flashed through his mind. Riv had never asked—it was Den’s story to tell or not. But then again, it had been obvious enough that someone had abused the kid. Later on had come the story of a childhood lost, of ignorant, superstitious relatives on a backwater planet. Hard to see how Del’s question connected with any of that right now though, but he was willing to play along. “Don’t think he ever did, now that you mention it. I kind of wondered how Bin ended up with a couple of scruffy planetside runaways.”
“I killed someone.” The words were offered in a completely inflectionless voice. “The man—” She cut herself off. “The priest who hurt Denny so bad. He would’ve killed him, would’ve fucking beat him to death if I hadn’t…stopped him.” Del paused next to his chair, and although she was standing still, he could see the tension thrumming through her body. “We both killed somebody for Den.”
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