“Growth hormones,” Rian explained, following her. “They do that to make room for more species.”
Lily was already reading a small plaque nailed into the tree trunk. It wasn’t identified as an oak tree, but it originated from Repub-1, and before that, Earth. She looked up at its branches and was pleased to see that they looked like they could hold her weight. She’d certainly climbed higher trees, and this one had some good footholds. “Will I end up in jail if I climb this?” she asked.
“No. They frown on picking flowers, though.”
“Good to know.” She wrapped her arms around the trunk and hoisted herself up.
“Lily, haven’t you fallen out of trees before?” Rian asked patiently.
“I’ve fallen out twice,” Lily retorted. “I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve climbed them.”
“As an adult?”
“Especially as an adult.” She had spent many hours nestled in the branches of a tree after her breakup with Cameron, and more after her father had died.
It was a quick climb, and she settled on a sturdy lower branch and triumphantly grinned down at Rian. She brushed some tree bark off her clothes. “Come on up,” she said.
“I don’t think...”
“Captain, I absolutely promise you I will never tell a soul that you climbed a tree. And you told me you climb in your spare time, so I know you know how.”
“I climb mountains in simulator chambers,” he protested, but he smiled sheepishly and followed her example, using the same footholds. He hauled himself up and Lily scooted over on the branches to make room for him. Their feet dangled over the branch, their thighs touching. “Now what?” he asked.
“We could keep climbing.”
“No way. I’ll probably be the one with a broken rib in sick bay, and it’ll give Admiral Kentz one more thing to ride my ass about.”
Lily laughed. Rian was coming alive. “It’s just good to know you’re not always so starched and proper all the time,.”
“No, I’m not.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments. Across the garden Lily heard a short conversation in a language she didn’t recognize, followed by giggling.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” she said quietly. “This is perfect. It reminds me of home.”
He swung his feet a little, and she thought he might be feeling foolish at being stuck in an oak tree. “Tell me about your home,” he said.
Dozens of comparisons between her new and old lives ran through her head. “I miss the weather,” she began. “I never thought about it, but I always thought wind and sunlight would always be there.” She hadn’t thought about that until they walked into the bright gardens. “I’m still getting used to seeing stars when I look out the windows. You know what it’s like to look up at them when you’re on a planet, but still knowing you’re firmly on the ground.” He nodded. “I don’t miss my car, but I wonder what happened to it.” She caught his quizzical glance. “Mode of transport, also strictly on the ground. Mine wasn’t that great, and I was thinking about selling it and sticking to the subway, but my job was so far away from my apartment. Subways are —were —underground commuter trains.” He nodded again.
“I don’t miss Toronto,” she admitted. “I miss my old life, before my dad passed away. That’s something even all this—” she gestured to the immaculately kept lawns and trees, “—can’t bring back. I was still grieving that before this happened.”
“Do you like it here?”
The question didn’t surprise her, but his tone did. He sounded worried about her, and on a less-than-professional level. “Rubidge is a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live here,” she replied.
“I mean this time and deep space.”
She looked at a bright blue flowering shrub. “It’ll take a while to get used to,” she said finally. “And I did want to start over somewhere new. This just wasn’t what I had imagined. But yeah, I think I like it so far.”
It was the truth. There were aspects she would probably never get used to—starfields, for one, and the idea that there was life outside Earth—but she wasn’t in a bad place.
His hand crept over hers and loosely grasped her fingers. The touch sent a shock through her.
“You don’t touch people often, do you?” she asked, and stole a look at him.
“No.” He had a half-smile on his face, and his blue gaze flickered over her mouth. She knew what he was thinking, what he wanted to do. She knew he wouldn’t do it anytime soon; he would have to analyze the situation for any variables. One was potentially falling out of a tree again but she had survived worse, and he likely had as well.
She closed the gap between them and kissed him. Immediately his fingers tightened around her hand and his other arm snaked around her waist. She leaned into him, deepening their kiss, and he responded eagerly, pulling her closer to him and surprising her. He disentangled their hands and clasped her hip, and ran her hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders and neck.
He broke their kiss and let her go reluctantly. He opened his mouth to speak, but Lily shushed him with a finger to his lips. “Don’t apologize,” she said. “I won’t kiss you again if you do.”
That was a lie. She was going to kiss him again the first opportunity she had. The smile across his face told her he knew that, too.
But he didn’t reply. Instead, he took her face in his hands and kissed her again, more possessively this time. His tongue probed her mouth when she gasped in surprise. Just as quickly, he released her and scooted over to the tree trunk. Lily watched him descend with an unexpected grace and then followed.
“Why would I apologize?” he said. “You started it.”
He had a wide grin across his face, an expression she had never seen him wear before and wanted to see again. He took her hand, loosely twining his fingers through hers. She knew it would only be temporary; as soon as they left the botanical gardens or saw someone in a Fleet uniform he would let go. But for now, she would enjoy it.
Chapter 8
He had lost his mind, and was well on his way to not giving a damn if he wasn’t careful. But Acting Captain Rian Marska still managed to put his best professional face forward as Rubidge engineers gave him a tour of the Defiant’s improved maintenance access ways the following afternoon, following a morning spent in a meeting discussing new patrol territories. The ship’s weaponry was receiving the promised upgrades even as he crawled on his hands and knees through the tunnels, and he was pleased to hear that the port side lift that tended to get stuck between decks had been repaired. The artificial gravity was going to be fully operational throughout the ship in the coming day, and the office replicators reprogrammed. It would save Rian trips to the mess for coffee, at least.
It wasn’t a permanent captaincy on a battleship—a goal that Rian saw slip from his grasp every day—or even a post on a ship built in the last thirty years, but at least the Defiant wasn’t a total laughingstock anymore.
He ignored the engineer’s subtle insults about the superficial hull damage that had been sustained when the ship crossed paths with the dying star. As far as Rian knew, the man had never set foot on a ship when it was in the space lanes, nor was he military, so his opinion was moot. He also tuned out Lieutenant Steg’s murmurs of approval at the mention of the new weapons locker security was receiving. He snapped back to full attention when he and the crew who had looked over the Defiant were escorted off ship, and he thanked the engineers for their work. It was a vast improvement.
The engineer explained some of the patches that had been installed in the power grid: “Easy enough to do when you’ve got the manpower and money; in less than a day you have an old clunker like the Defiant almost as fast as a ship just off the yards.” He and Rian backed out of an access tube, and Steg asked about the new capabilities of the hyperspace engines. The engineer rattled off some statistics, comparing the Defiant’s specs to newer ships, and Rian tuned out the chatter around him as he liste
ned. Steg elbowed him.
“Lieutenant?”
“Is this personal?” he demanded in a hoarse whisper.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I saw you around the aviary last night with our guest.” He spat out the last word.
“Excuse me?” Rian whispered back. “Are you insinuating something?” Steg’s narrowed eyes told him all Rian needed to know. It unnerved him how close the burly ex-prizefighter was to the truth, but it really wasn’t the security chief’s concern anymore. “Do I have to remind you of your place?”
Steg had the sense to look startled. “No, sir,” he muttered. “Apologies.” Without another word, the security chief followed Rian off the ship. The airlock hissed shut behind them.
Figures in EVA suits slowly descended from a waiting station shuttle to begin work on the ship’s hull and exterior weaponry. The sight of the suited mechanics caused a ripple of apprehension to run down Rian’s spine. He had had the requisite extra-vehicular activity training in the academy and forced himself into taking annual elective courses in outside repair, but he was still nervous about being in space with only a suit for protection. The fact that Fleet hadn’t had a fatal accident in over a century was of little comfort.
He dismissed the crew in the foyer for the evening, eliciting genuine smiles from them. There had been some grumbling about taking a science team to a planet in the Fringes—not his choice or his fault—and he was pleased to see positive and respectful reactions from them for once. Maybe this was a sign of things to come.
He hadn’t seen Lily since that morning, when he spotted her and her friend from sick bay heading out to breakfast. He knew the nurse was due to spend a few hours with her father, one of the admirals who wasn’t out for his blood, and he wondered what Lily had got up to.
He was acting like a schoolboy, mooning over her and trying to figure out ways to see her again. They could go out to dinner, he thought. The station was certainly large enough so they could find an out-of-the-way place where they could talk. That idea made him more apprehensive than it should. What if she only responded to him because of stress? That happened. Senior Captain Ursuline Jena, renowned and feared officer currently aboard Bishop’s Pride, had fallen madly in love with and married a man she rescued from a shuttle accident. The union had lasted less than two years, although Rian was liable to chalk up the marriage’s failure to the man being an illegal arms dealer in his spare time.
He was overthinking this, as usual. A kiss was just that. So was dinner.
The crew dispersed, and he went off in search of Lily.
* * *
Rian was nervous as he approached the barracks, the likeliest place Lily would be. After what had happened the night before, an uncomfortable awkwardness had descended on them when they left the gardens. He attributed it to not being able to touch her in public when he wanted to. She was quickly growing on him, and the memory of her shimmying up a tree and encouraging him to do the same had been in the back of his mind all day. It was out of character for him, and it had felt good. He wished it could have continued, that he could kiss her again and see where things went from there, but that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
He pressed his hand into the palm lock next to the door. He heard a muffled “Come in—oops!” from inside, then, “Enter.”
She was wearing a pair of slim black pants and green sweater that matched her eyes. She was surrounded by packages from her shopping excursion the night before. She had a blouse in one hand when she entered the room and he saw clothes spread across the unmade bed. “This is great!” she exclaimed. “Everything fits perfectly. This is so much better than getting into a catfight at a Boxing Day sale.” She began folding the new clothes. He picked up something black and lacy that was draped across the nightstand. A dress made of thin fabric, with a complicated set of straps. She took it from him and her cheeks flushed pink. “It’s a dress,” she explained.
“I can see that.”
“Mora talked me into it. I’m sure I’ll find somewhere to wear it eventually.” She carefully folded the delicate lace and stowed it in her duffel.
Rian could think of a few places, but didn’t make any suggestions.
“I didn’t think I’d see you tonight,” she said. “Taz said you and a few other of your higher-ups were looking at the new and improved Defiant.”
“I was. It’s the next best thing to getting a new ship. I gave everyone the evening off. They deserved a break, and we’re departing early tomorrow.”
“Seven-thirty, right?” He nodded.
She held up a small datatab. “I bought this today,” she said. “Taz helped me pick it out. I told him about the pharmacy job and he said I’d need something to read my textbooks on. I’m still learning how to use it.”
“You’ll need one for writing notes, too. Some people prefer handwriting with a stylus over typing.”
“I’m one of them.” She opened a smaller package and took out some toiletries. She uncapped a bottle of shampoo and sniffed. “I don’t know what this is supposed to smell like, but it’s good. You said some ships don’t have water showers?”
“No, but the stations do. You’ll still get to take showers if you live on one.”
“Good. Some things you just don’t want to give up.” She smiled and tucked her purchases into the duffel.
“Have you had dinner yet?” he asked casually.
“No.”
“There’s a place on 18-F that I’ve been to a few times,” he began, but she was already dropping her credit chip in her pocket and slipping on her shoes knowingly. They didn’t speak again until they were in the lift, heading to Deck F, on the outer edges of the commercial sector.
“Have you read anything interesting on your new datatab?” he asked.
She looked at him blankly for a few seconds. “Oh, right, my e-reader. Taz transferred some his files to it and I’ve been reading up on space history. If I’m going to be passed off as a local, I should act like one.” She paused. “Datatab,” she repeated.
“Short for datatablet.”
She asked for some clarification on other terms, and he was pleased to answer them. His ego was wounded at the notion that her reaction to him could be stress-based. But it wasn’t as though she had launched herself at him and torn his clothes off last night, although his body tensed at the thought. Thank the gods for that, because his self-discipline would have been severely tested. He would have rejected her, but it would have been difficult. Acting Captain Rian Marska was a lot of things, but he wasn’t someone who took advantage of vulnerable women.
Except for kissing her the second time. Damn.
Was taking her out to dinner considered taking advantage? The unpleasant idea popped into his mind like a skib sting. No, he decided. He would keep it strictly professional and put any other notions aside, even though he was loathe to.
The restaurant he picked was small, a little-known gem favored by station locals and staffed with people instead of serving bots. It was the place he and his friends preferred when they had been in the academy, and it was far less rushed and crowded than the pubs on the lower decks. They took seats at the back and ordered tea to start; then he watched her flip through the table-mounted menu screen with a critical eye before sighing in frustration.
“Pick something for me,” she urged. “I don’t know what any of this is.”
“What foods do you hate?”
“Pickles and anchovies, if they still exist.”
“They do, although anchovies are an Earth delicacy.”
“Seriously? Ugh. Pick something with at least one vegetable.” There was a challenging note to her voice. He tabbed in the orders through the menu.
“That’s it?”
“A server will be along shortly, but yes.”
“Oh.” She leaned forward and looked at him expectantly. He wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Where would I find information about Earth?” she asked. “From my time. News
clips and the like.”
“We can go to the library here and download some history files,” he said. “I don’t know how much will be relevant to your case, but they have millions of files.”
She shrugged. “I want to know if anyone was looking for me when I was kidnapped,” she said quietly. “I didn’t have a lot of friends in my life at the time, and my stepmother was out in Vancouver, but I’d like to know. Self-centered, I know.”
“No, it isn’t. You had a husband for a while?” Rian kept the question casual.
“God, no,” she replied. “The last serious relationship I was in ended a couple of years ago. I thought I was going to marry him at one point, and we lived together in the basement apartment on the farm, but he took one look at my best friend and decided she was the one for him. I felt like an idiot when I found out.” Losing Katy had been worse than Cameron, she had realized shortly after. “When I was finalizing the sale of the tree farm I heard from a couple of mutual acquaintances that they were expecting a baby.”
Rian absorbed this information, an unexpected swell of rage flaring when he thought about the bastard who had broken her heart in the worst possible way. What would possess anyone to give her up?
Professional, he reminded himself. He would have to give her up shortly, and he’d never really had her to begin with.
* * *
They stopped at the library after dinner. She was surprised by it, a fact that she whispered to him as she took in the consoles lined up in rows around the office-like space.
“Why are you whispering?” he asked.
“Because we’re in a library. It’s the polite thing to do.”
“I see.” Rian had no rejoinder to that.
“People read in libraries,” she patiently explained. “They come in for peace and quiet.”
“Interesting times you come from,” he said. He showed her how to buy a datakey at the automatic info kiosk and download files to it from one of the consoles. She did searches on names and places foreign to him, and sighed when nothing came up. Then she did searches focusing solely on Toronto, Canada, twenty-first century, and cryonics. There was more than he expected, but he had never been one for ancient history. She downloaded news clips from the excavation to Darcan-2, everything she could pull up on the Nym, and at his suggestion, one of the texts he’d read in the academy about Earth’s history from first contact with the Kurrans to the present. She also picked out a couple of novels and a text on Fleet pharmacy procedures.
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