by Jo Zebedee
“They should be– it’s how you get the best work. Poor Colonel Rjala, it tormented her at first. If I wasn’t ahead of plan, she’d have stopped me. The colonel judges by results, so that’s what I give her. It’s awkward that your little brother’s more senior than me– that everyone is– but we’ve worked around it.”
Sonly kept her face bland, hoping she wouldn’t give away that he was about to be promoted for his work here. Rjala had been very persuasive in proposing it, pointing out he’d be training officers in the use of the system. He couldn’t do that and still hold the rank of private. It was one of the more surprising things Rjala had done, and she had wondered how Kare had won her over. Now, looking around, she could understand.
“So, are you going for lunch with him?” Lichio asked. He looked at Kare. “You did ask her?”
Kare rolled his eyes. “What I forgot to say: he lacks subtlety.”
“He was born that way,” she said, pleased to see the rapport between Kare and Lichio. She couldn’t resist teasing Lichio after he’d so blatantly set her up. “Mother used to say he got a double charm gene to make up for it.”
Lichio shrugged, not remotely embarrassed. “It’s overrated.”
Sonly waited, wondering if the offer was genuine or if he was only trying to please Lichio. She bit her lip.
“Really, I’d like to,” he said. “I’m due a break.”
It would be good not to have this awkwardness hanging between them. She nodded. “Yes, then. That would be nice.”
As they left the room, his comms unit buzzed. He glanced at it quickly, and laughed.
“What is it?”
“Silom. Sounds like he’s found a way of keeping warm. Good.”
“How?” She didn’t really know Silom, only through stories from Lichio, but he hadn’t sounded like someone who’d struggle to find company. They reached the servery and picked a tray each.
“Not how: who. Some soldier.” He put a cup on the tray. “What do you want?”
“Oh, tea, please.”
They picked up their food and she glanced around. Two young women were in one corner, drinking coffee, a toddler beside them in a high chair, squeezing chips in his hand. She led the way to a table in the opposite corner and took a seat overlooking the jungle. The room was so bland and plain, much like the rest of the base, the long window dominated. A hummingbird hovered just outside, facing her like it was looking at her, the red feathers on its throat ruffling as it sang. Kare set his tray down, and it flew away.
“The mess is quiet, at least,” Sonly said. She lifted her fork, feeling self-conscious. A bit of life around the place would have given her something else to concentrate on.
“Give it half an hour.”
Sonly’s comms unit buzzed this time– she really should turn it off over break-periods– and she went to answer it but hesitated. Kare smiled innocently, pulling it off nearly as well as Lichio.
“I need to know you won’t listen in,” she said.
“I won’t. I don't do that.”
He started to eat his food, ignoring her. She looked at him for a moment longer. If she couldn’t trust him, she was a poor judge of character. She got up and moved to the window, leaning against it. Here, the base was close to the jungle and she could see birds flitting, seeking the rich blue flowers of the jungle-stock. She took the call from Michael, arranged a meeting date– relieved it wasn’t anything more– and ended it.
“Thank you,” she said, returning to the table.
Kare looked up, shrugged lazily and smiled. “You don’t need to thank me– I have no interest in snooping in others’ conversations. I have enough difficulty keeping up with my own. But I still get to close doors from across the room. I have to have some perks.” They ate for a few moments in silence, and then he put down his fork, clearing his throat. “About last night.”
Suddenly, Sonly had no appetite. Now he’d brought it up, she was embarrassed all over again. “You were right– we shouldn’t get involved. I’m sorry.”
“That’s just the excuse.” He took a breath. “I have a problem letting people get close to me.”
“Why?” She nearly kicked herself. Of course he had a problem with it– practically anyone he’d been close to was dead.
“I worry they’ll end up getting sucked into what’s going on around me,” he said.
“Surely that’s their choice, not yours.”
“What if I know more than they do?” He pushed his food round his plate, not meeting her eyes.
She put her fork down. This was the sort of thing the Banned needed to know– what his father had confided in him. Ealyn had been held in the palace for months before he’d escaped and no one knew what he’d learned. “Do you?”
“No. Well, yes, maybe.”
She waited, hoping he’d start to make sense soon. A quick movement took her attention: the hummingbird was back.
“You know the Empress has tried to take me,” he said. “Well, my dad thought she might succeed, and if she did, it would be bad.”
“Sorry, but again: why is that your choice?” He took a drink of his coffee, waiting for her to continue. “You’ve warned me, you’ve presumably mentioned it to Silom, maybe Lichio, too. Now it’s up to me to say sod off, or sod it.”
He spluttered his coffee, choking with laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
“You; you’re like a force of nature. I feel like I’m being hit by a hurricane.”
She ducked her head; it wasn’t the first time such a thing had been suggested. Normally it was in the office and put rather more politely, but even so.
“Sorry, I’ve embarrassed you,” he said.
“Not really.” Sonly took a mouthful of her food and set her fork down again. “I think, if I’m honest, it might be awkward. We have to work together, and that will increase if– when– you take on a more public profile.” She got up to lift her plate across, feeling very proud of herself. Her voice hadn’t wavered, not once.
“Sonly?” Kare’s voice was quiet.
“What?” She didn’t look at him, not wanting to acknowledge what she was turning down.
“Apparently, I like forces of nature,” he said. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I keep asking Lichio about you, trying to think of ways I can.”
She hadn’t expected him to say that. Her cheeks went hot, and she felt butterflies starting in her, small darts of excitement. “You do?”
“Yes. Look, how do you relax?”
Was he mad? “Relax? Kare, I’m running a division of the organisation. I have a brother who is constantly, and I do mean constantly, plotting against me. I get up in the morning and I work, and I go to bed at night, having worked. I don’t have time to relax.”
“You should. It’s important.”
“According to my little brother, this is like the pot and kettle. He says you never stop working.”
Kare had the grace to look away. “You’re right, we both should. When did you last sit down and just have a chat with someone? I have a late meeting tonight, but it’d be nice to drop round after, about ten. If you’d like me to.”
She hesitated, and he got up, facing her. He was close enough to smell his faint cologne, almost buried by the spiced coffee. Close enough to see his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. She wasn’t the only one who was nervous.
“I’m not offering anything other than friendship,” he said, and he sounded sincere. “Like I said, I find it difficult to get close to people. But I’d like to be your friend, get to know you better.”
It felt like he was standing too close, almost crowding her, but she didn’t want to step back and break the moment.
“Can I trust you?” she asked, remembering Rjala’s warning that they didn’t know his agenda, or why he’d come back.
“Yes,” he told her, his voice a whisper, his eyes looking directly at her. “You can trust me, Sonly le Payne. I won
’t let you down.”
She believed him. She broke her gaze away first. “Come round,” she said. “After your meeting. I’d like that.”
He nodded and walked away, and Sonly watched him go. She sighed; could she have have found anyone more complicated?
Later, sitting in her apartment, she ordered herself not to look at the clock again. It was only five past ten, and Rjala was planning to tell him about his promotion, so the meeting might have run on. Even so, when she heard the rap on the door, she jumped. It was already familiar, how he knocked, a quick rap, and it was nice to have something she knew about him. She smoothed down her top and walked to the door. She lifted her hand to open it and stopped. Be cool. She waited for a second knock and this time she let him in.
“Hi,” she said. Now he was here she was shy, almost tongue-tied. “Do you want a drink?”
“Yes, thanks.” He looked around the apartment. “This is very nice.”
“It was Dad’s,” she said. She forgot, sometimes, how unlike the rest of the base it was, filled with her books, a few holos, even a couple of pictures on the wall. The rest of the base was so sparse, it was impossible to escape the sense of being on a military base, even in the more public areas. She'd tried to create something different. Somewhere to relax. “The idea was he’d have somewhere to go where he wouldn’t be disturbed all the time. It’s self-contained; there’s a bedroom and a bathroom, a small study. I’m not sure why they put the kitchen in, though; he couldn’t cook and neither can I. Michael didn’t want it– he has family accommodation and is happy there, so he offered it to me.”
“You don’t cook?” He picked up a holo of her father and looked at it, his face hard to read. She wondered what he thought of them all, what memories he’d carried of the last visit to the Banned, before Karia died. She’d never fogotten the horrid finality of her father closing the apartment door against her pleas for the twins to stay. If she couldn’t forget it, how could he? She’d ask, but now wasn’t the time to bring the past up, not when the future, and what she wanted for it, hung before her.
“No,” she said. “Why would I when there’s a mess?”
She handed him a glass of wine, and he took it over to the small sofa and sat down.
“I love cooking,” he said. “I used to have something ready when Silom and Marine got home. It passed the day.”
“I thought you lived in the attic.”
He laughed. “No, they let me out from time to time. I wasn’t a prisoner; I just had to be discreet.”
She sat beside him and yawned, the late night with Lichio catching up with her. She moved a book onto the table beside her.
“So you read,” he said. “That’s something. What else do you do other than work?”
She blushed. Was she really so bad? “Lots of things. I go swimming at the barracks pool when I can.”
“You can teach me.”
“You can’t swim?” She took a sip of wine to hide her surprise.
“No; there aren’t many swimming pools in attics…”
“Of course, I didn’t think.” She stifled a yawn. “I’m sorry, I’ve been busy.”
“Can’t you offload some of it? Get yourself a Lichio? Although you’re not stealing mine; he’s far too useful.”
She smiled; if she could get the sort of work out of Lichio that Kare did, she might consider it. “He would drive me mad. He’d always be late, and he’d snoop through everything.”
He laughed. “He does that on me, too.” He leaned in, conspiratorially, as if Lichio might be listening. “What I do is I leave some fairly non-essential stuff where he snoops and keep the rest with me. All the time.”
“You’re about the only person he hasn’t out-manoeuvred,” she said.
“I wouldn’t say that.”
They fell silent, but it was comfortable, unforced. It was like the night before, when something had built between them. He was watching her, openly, his eyes focused on her, but it didn't feel uncomfortable.
“How did the meeting go?” she asked, breaking the silence.
“Very well. I guess you heard?”
She nodded. “Yes, I’ve known for a couple of days. Congratulations, Lieutenant. I couldn’t tell you– it was confidential.”
“It’s fine. It was nice to be surprised,” he said, his eyes locked on hers, as if he could see her very soul.
She set her glass down. “It’s just, whatever happens– ” don’t force it, you don’t know anything will “– that won’t change– the confidentiality.”
“Really, it’s fine. I don’t snoop, I told you that. You know, what you said today, about me making your choices for you?”
“Yes?”
“I thought about it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “All day. I got nothing done– Lichio thought it was hilarious. I’m going to be a bit mysterious and say there are some things I can’t tell you. Not because I don’t want to, but because I promised Karia I wouldn’t tell anyone about some things that happened on the ship, near the end. It was one of the last things I promised her.”
“Okay,” she said. She had asked the same from him, after all.
“I will tell you my father predicted that if I stood against my mother, others around me might be hurt, too. In building the system, fighting for the Banned on Corun, I’ve stood against her, and she will see it that way. I’m certain of that. Dad was, as Lichio pointed out, close to insane but he was still a Seer, and it’s hard to discount him.”
“Aren’t you scared?” she asked. He didn’t look away, but she saw a muscle twitch in his cheek.
“Sometimes.” He took her hand and entwined his fingers through hers, rubbing the palm of her hand with his thumb, making her light-headed. “I’m telling you so you can make your mind up. I’ve tried pushing you away, and it’s not working. So I thought I would just tell you, and let you decide. What was it you said– see if you wanted to say sod off or sod it?”
She paused, thinking about his words, and the atmosphere built around them, filling the apartment.
“Sod it,” she said. He kissed her. She could feel the heat of his body, the strength in his arm as held her against him, the tension in him easing. She tilted her head back, eyes closed, savouring the warmth of him, the closeness, how his lips were on hers, insistent, how his hands tightened on her waist, bringing her even closer. There was no way she could deny this. When he broke off, she made a soft noise of disappointment.
“I really, really like you,” he said, his voice shaking. “If I stay any longer, I’ll not be able to say no to you, and I want you to take another bit of time, and just think about what I said.”
“I know what I want,” she told him.
He stood up, and she did too. She took his arm and pulled him towards her but the soft fabric of his shirt slipped through her fingers. He put his finger on her lips, gently, and shook his head.
“Just take some time, even a little time, and be sure. I know I must come across as a bit paranoid– not sleeping in barracks, not leaving the base– but I’m not. I know what my mother is capable of. Think about it, before we let this go further. Please.”
She kissed his finger and he groaned, telling her what she already knew– if she wanted, she could make him stay.
“I’m going,” he said. “I have to, but I swear I’ll see you tomorrow. Just sleep on it for tonight, okay? I’m going to go to my own bed, in the barracks, to do the same.”
She thought about keeping him here, and then decided against it. Not if he didn’t want to.
“You know it’s not because I don’t like you?” he said. “You know it’s because I do like you that I’m going?”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and let him open the door and go.
For a moment, she stood in the quiet apartment. Perhaps he was right. It had been so urgent between them, so overwhelming, that she had barely breathed properly all evening.
She got up,
taking their glasses to the kitchen, and poured some water, turning off lights as she did. A few minutes later she snuggled down in bed and then groaned. Lichio. If she didn’t call, he would; he was far too nosy not to.
He answered his comms unit quickly. “Hi, did you change your mind?” he said, his voice low and intimate. She wondered, briefly, which girl he’d been with, but decided it was best not to know.
“Hi, Lich,” she giggled, “that probably tells me what sort of evening you had. Bad luck.”
“Your sympathy's touching," he said, in his normal voice. "Where’s Kare? You should be entertaining him, not calling me.”
“He’s away.”
“Hard luck. That’s both of us blown out. It went well, though?” he asked.
“Yes, and that’s all I’m telling you, so stop digging. I’m only calling because I’m going to bed, and I didn’t want you waking me.”
Her brother’s voice softened. “I’m glad it went well. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
Sonly put down her comms unit and turned out the light. She was just starting to drift off when the unit went again. She cursed and turned the light back on.
“Yes?” she asked, tersely. She was always nervous of calls at night. When she’d been growing up, it was often a call that had got her dad up, followed by the sirens ordering an evacuation of the base.
“Sonly, when did you say Kare had left?” asked Lichio.
“About half an hour ago.”
“He’s not in the barracks, nor the project room. I sort of thought I’d catch up with him, but I can’t find him.”
You sort of thought you might snoop. “Call his comms unit.”
“I did– he’s not answering.”
Sonly sat up. A cold finger of fear ran down her spine. He’d told her he was still a target.
“Lichio, get down to the port. Tell them to stop all flights. I’ll meet you there.”
Lichio didn’t respond and she knew he probably thought she was overreacting, but she didn’t think she was. Kare had left to go to the barracks.
“Sonly, he’ll be around somewhere, don’t panic.”
