Erron had suggested they blow the day in the markets. They didn’t have much to spare for trade. At this time of year, though, the overhead sunlights were turned up just a little brighter, making the day warm and sunny. It was very pleasant to be out in the public areas.
“You need the break, anyway, Mom,” Erron told her, over his breakfast plate. “You’re getting worry lines.”
She touched the corner of her eye and laughed. “You’re the reason I have those!” she teased.
However, the idea of doing nothing, of idling away a whole day, was infinitely appealing. They both put on flat shoes and started to slowly stroll through the district, right up to where the industrial areas of the Field of Mars began, then just as slowly, they walked back. The sunlight felt good on her shoulders and face and she could feel herself relaxing.
“Chocolate when we get home,” she told Erron, who had been happy to stroll and pick through stalls without whining about bright things they couldn’t have. “My treat.”
Erron smiled. “When I’m working on the farm, I’ll bring you a sack of grapefruit every week.”
Her heart squeezed. He had noticed her looking longingly at the pink fruit, ripe and sharply aromatic. Her mouth had watered, only they were an impossible luxury.
“Oh, it was a passing thing,” she assured him.
“No it wasn’t,” he said, sounding very adult. He was nineteen, she reminded herself. She had already gotten used to his height, which was greater than hers now, along with the rich tenor of his voice. She would also have to get used to him speaking and thinking in adult ways.
Deliberately, she made herself react as if he was an adult. “I wanted them, yes,” she said frankly. “Everyone wants things these days. You know why. We’ve talked about it.”
“The bad harvests,” he said. He frowned. “It’s really that desperate, Mom?”
“It’s not irreversible,” she said softly, with a sigh. “Not yet. But it’s probably going to get a little worse before it gets better.”
“That’s…bad,” he decided.
“As long as the energy level remains stable, we can print a lot of stuff,” she reminded him. “That will avoid disaster at least.”
“But not everything can be printed. That’s why we have farms,” he pointed out.
“Printed steak is revolting,” she agreed. “But it might still come to that. You’re nearly an adult, Erron. You’ll be dealing with this when you emerge, so you might as well start thinking about it now.”
He was still frowning heavily. “No farms…”
“No viable farms, but farms have a secondary purpose. You know what it is, you studied for the entrance exam.”
“Gene preservation. Natural mutations and evolutionary process.”
“Exactly. It might end up that we all eat printed everything. The farms would have to be reset and start again with fresh soil and old genetic patterns.”
“Because the current ones aren’t working…” he said slowly.
“They’re still trying to figure that out for sure.” She nudged his arm. “And remember, you don’t know any of this, if anyone ever asks. I don’t think anyone at work knows that I know. It’s very top level stuff, Erron.”
“That you went and blabbed to a kid,” he teased.
“That I told my son, whom I trust absolutely,” she corrected.
Erron seemed to walk a little taller. “I won’t tell anyone,” he said.
She saw a familiar figure from the corner of her eye. That happened a lot because she knew many people and because they were in the Esquiline, which was home and where everyone knew everyone else, too. Marlow usually turned her head to check who had caught her eye, just to stop her nerves from jumping to the alert. Here at home when she was wearing civilian clothing and was officially clocked off, she downgraded her wariness.
So her nerves and her heart jumped and her stomach clenched.
Jonah Solomon was sitting at Bernice’s place, watching their house. He was making it look casual. All he had to do was look up from his board and his coffee and his gaze would naturally take their quarters in.
Marlow backed up a step or two, putting the corner of the nearest stall between her and Jonah.
“What’s up, Mom?” Erron asked, turning to look at her.
She shielded her eyes from the harsh light and looked up at him. “It’s a work thing,” she said carefully. They’d had conversations before about how issues from her work might spill over into her family life, affecting even Erron. “Don’t look around,” she said, as Erron turned his head.
He looked back at her. “What should I do? Are you in danger?”
“No, I don’t think so. He hasn’t seen me yet.”
“Should I get Dad?”
Marlow smiled at Erron’s quaint idea that Taniel would be able to do more than she could. She had also grown up with the belief that her father was invincible. “He’s probably not home yet.” She looked up at the time readout. “It’s only just gone two. He said the interview process would take all day.” She leaned to her left to peer around the stall.
Jonah hadn’t moved. He wouldn’t, until he spotted her. There could be no other reason for him sitting where he was. He was waiting for her.
She looked back at Erron. “You should go home. You’ll be safe enough. He has no idea who you are.”
“Even though I walk into your house?” he asked, troubled.
“He’s not that sort of man,” she assured him. “I think he’s here just to talk and he won’t talk in front of you. So I need to speak to him alone.”
“You’re sure?” Erron asked and his voice gave a tiny squeak. He was afraid for her and Marlow patted his shoulder fondly.
“You’ve seen me take down your dad,” she reminded him. She pulled a bo stick out of her trouser pocket. “I’ll be quite safe. Go on. Go home. You can print your own chocolate and I’ll come and drink mine with you when I’m done.”
Erron turned and trudged through the corner of the square and into the space between the quarters in front of theirs. He pressed his thumb against the key plate and went inside.
Marlow didn’t move until the door was shut. Then she turned around and headed back into the middle of the market. She made a big loop around the far edges of it, coming up on Bernice’s place from behind. There was a tiny corridor between Bernice’s kitchen and the market manager’s office, next door. Marlow stopped at the end of the corridor. Through it, she could see the white chairs and tables that spread out in front of the café.
There was a public terminal embedded in the wall of the manager’s office. She called up the Forum and connected with Jonah’s private channel.
I’m in the corridor behind you. Come and talk.
She checked personal messages while she was waiting, making it look as though she had a reason for loitering on this side of the district where there was nothing but private quarters.
Jonah took his time. She was fidgeting, reading gossip items, by the time she heard the tread of a heavy step in the corridor. She peered around the corner to check that it was actually him, then moved into the corridor and met him half way.
The light was indirect here and it was cooler.
Jonah watched her approach, his expression wary. When she got close enough for him to speak without raising his voice, he said; “There’s been a complication or two.”
“There’s nothing very complicated about staying away from someone,” she said shortly. Even as she said it, she could feel an odd gladness settle over her. She was pleased to see him. In only a few days he had become more than a vexing stranger. “Although I should thank you for not marching up to my doorstep where everyone could see you.”
“That’s the complication. Someone did see us at the arena. It got back to Veda.” Jonah blew out his breath. “I had to tell her I was the one to convince you not to arrest Brenden, to explain why we were talking. Now she thinks there is a relationship between us she can exploit.”
Marlow let out her own gusty breath as she absorbed the news, turning it around to spot the implications. “Wow…. That woman does not like to give up, does she? Buellen clearly washed out on her. Now she wants me.”
Jonah’s eye lit up. “You got there faster than I did. Veda had to spell that one out for me.” Then his smile died. “I found out what she wants from me, Marlow.”
Marlow considered him. “She wants you for a figurehead, to lead the revolution.”
Jonah’s lips parted. “How could you even guess that?”
“You’re intelligent, you can speak well and you have radical ideas. Plus, you live in the Capitol. You criticize the Bridge and their policies and decisions constantly.” Marlow shrugged. “It wasn’t a hard guess.” She smiled. “You even have a pretty face, much nicer than that twerp Averill with his blonde hair and pointy jaw.”
He shook his head. “Is there anything your Bridge security doesn’t know about the ship?”
“Not much,” she admitted. “I don’t know what shoe size you wear.” She tilted her head. “We do know about your roommates and what you did with the inside of your apartments.”
Jonah looked genuinely shaken. Most people tended to react that way when they found out how private their private lives really were.
“We keep tabs on anything interesting,” she explained gently. “In a small, enclosed community like the Endurance, we need warning about potential trouble.”
“If you know that much about me, about everyone, why aren’t you out arresting them or fining them, or ….” He trailed off helplessly and rubbed the back of his neck.
She understood his awkwardness. “We should fine you or arrest you for living your life and getting by? You haven’t done anything wrong, Jonah. Besides, my job is—”
“To keep the peace,” he finished, staring at her.
She nodded. “Veda and Sansone, though, are a different matter.”
“I’m not a revolutionary,” Jonah said quickly.
“I had a linguistic sociologist study your essays when you first started publishing them. She told me you were socially democratic, with an iron sense of justice…yet your potential for anarchy and revolution was so low it didn’t even chart.”
Jonah rubbed his hands over his face. “You’ve been watching me that long….” He said into his hands.
“If it helps at all, the sociologist also said your intelligence quotient was at the opposite end of your revolutionary tendencies. Which is why I don’t understand why you’re doing what you’re doing. You could have been anything you wanted.”
Jonah dropped his hands. “Why?” he asked, his voice strained. “It’s all meaningless make-work.”
“We wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for the engineers who keep the ship running,” she replied. “If you’re looking for a higher meaning, then join the club.”
“That’s why you warned me about Veda and the others, isn’t it?” he said, looking into mid-air, putting it together. “You already knew I’m not like them.”
Her heart jumped. That wasn’t the reason why she had warned him at all. She was still trying to figure out why she had done that. The knowledge that he wasn’t Veda’s sort of anarchist wasn’t it. She had only remembered the sociologist’s profile when she had been skimming through Jonah’s file this morning. But she gave him a smile she hoped looked natural. “It seemed like the right thing to do,” she said, which was the truth.
She glanced down the alley toward the café. No one was paying them any attention, yet. “Does Veda want you to stay in contact with me?”
“Yes. It doesn’t matter if we’re seen together. They’re expecting to see that.”
“It matters to me,” she replied shortly. “I’m a lieutenant of the Bridge Guard and the world thinks you’re an activist. We’ll keep off the radar, thank you.”
“So no pretending we’re in love as a cover story?”
Something in her belly shifted and her chest squeezed. “No,” she said quickly. “Don’t be so melodramatic.”
“Good.” Jonah let out his breath.
“Good?” She stared at him. “You can’t manage to sound even a little bit disappointed?” Then she felt her jaw drop. Why in the world had she said that?
Because you’re disappointed, a small voice whispered in her mind.
“It’s good, because you’ll have no confusion about why I do this.” His voice was very low, almost hoarse.
Later, she would tell herself he surprised her, that he moved too quickly and gave her no time to react. The truth was, her heart leapt as she realized he was going to kiss her. He gave her all the time in the world to move out of the way, to turn her head, to tell him no.
She did none of those things. Instead, she drew in a breath that scorched her lungs, as he brought his lips to hers.
Heat seemed to wash through her at his touch. It had been such a long time since she had been kissed and never this way. Never with this overwhelming passion and feeling.
He didn’t touch her with anything other than his lips, yet it was enough.
The second before he lifted them away, she felt the brush of his tongue against her mouth, a fleeting caress. He looked at her with eyes that were hooded and alive with feelings.
All she could do was breathe heavily and watch him. Her thoughts were scattered far away.
He lifted her hair off her shoulder and brushed his hand under it, so it slid off the back of his hand. The corner of his mouth lifted. “Silky,” he murmured. His voice was hoarse.
Finally, she found her voice. “I asked you not to do that.”
“No, I said I wouldn’t.”
“So why did you?”
He slid his hand under her hair again, only this time, his big fingers curled around her neck. They were hot against her. “You and your sociologists don’t know everything, Marlow. You’re so busy analyzing and plotting and watching you’ve overlooked the human element.”
He kissed her again, before she had a chance to air her confusion and demand straight answers. This time she was drawn up against him. Jonah was strong—stronger than her. She had to use the bo stick and dirty tricks to bring down a man. Now, when her knees were betraying her and her body was shaking, she was powerless.
Thought faded.
His hand cupped the back of her head and she felt the wall behind her shoulders and ass. He was protecting her head.
Marlow sighed into his mouth, surrendering.
Jonah drew back, looking into her eyes. He was breathing fast, too. “I’ve been invited to the game tomorrow night. Will you be there?”
She blinked, clawing together her thoughts. “No,” she whispered. “First shift only.”
Jonah let her go and she shivered at the sudden chill in the air. He stepped back, putting more distance between them. “Do you know my second private code?”
“You have a second code?” That was unheard of.
“I was a coder, once,” he reminded her. “Don’t contact me on the code under my name. If your people are so good, they’ll be watching and Veda probably has hackers in her pocket, too. Wait for me to contact you, then you’ll have the code.” He was moving away, down the corridor. He was leaving.
“Be careful!” she called out.
“Watch your back,” Jonah replied and was gone.
Chapter Seven
Erron must have been watching for her through the windows. When she arrived at the apartment, he had the printer running and a mug already half-filled with hot chocolate.
The smell was divine, only Marlow had lost any interest in chocolate. Fine tremors were running through her and her limbs felt heavy, just as they did after a hard training session.
Plus, her mind would not shut up.
It wasn’t just his kiss that was bothering her. It was the reason for the kiss. Why would he kiss her, why even hint that he wanted more than a kiss, when she had been very clear about not wanting a relationship until Erron had emerged?
Beca
use he had already made the chocolate, Marlow sat and drank it. It tasted thick and too hot. She sipped and tried to hold a normal conversation with Erron. He talked about his final tests, which he had just taken and the schedule of work and training that the farm had given him.
Marlow nodded in the right places, until Erron waved the spoon he had be using to scrape the last of the chocolate out of his mug at her. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
The automatic phrases of positive assurance rose to her lips. Then she remembered that she wasn’t going to do that with Erron anymore and she sighed. “The man I just met. He said some things that are troubling me.”
“He was mean to you?”
“No!” she said quickly. “He wasn’t mean or nasty or rude. Nothing like that. He said something that is now stuck in my mind because I can’t quite figure out what he meant by it.”
“What did he say?”
Marlow pressed her lips together. “I’m not sure,” she said at last. “Something he said is nagging me. I can’t pin it down.”
Erron nodded. “He said something indirect and now you’re trying to see the direct meaning. Sure. That happens to me a lot. Especially with older adults. There’s this whole world of assumption behind what they say, that they figure you know and understand. So they only say a few obscure words, while the rest of the knowledge you need to understand what they mean lies hidden.” He grimaced. “I hate when that happens. It’s as if they do it deliberately to remind me how young I am and how much I have left to learn.”
“I think you mean they’re condescending,” Marlow replied.
Erron shook his head firmly. “No, they’re not mean about it, either. They just know the background stuff so thoroughly and they’ve known it for so long, they forget that others might not know it.”
Marlow stared at him. “I had forgotten what it was like to be a kid,” she said slowly. “But yes, that used to happen to me, too.”
Erron grinned. “I get even by asking them to explain what I don’t understand. Then they get all embarrassed because they feel as if they should have known I wouldn’t know what they were talking about.”
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