Chapter 21
Calvin stood on the observation deck, leaning against the railing. In front of him was the largest window on the ship, so clean it would be invisible if not for the glare of the light behind him and the hint of his own reflection. Beyond that the view was one of complete darkness. Emptiness. A perfect void with absolutely nothing to see. To Calvin it was more intriguing than depressing. And it helped him forget the many questions on his mind, however briefly.
There was something peaceful about the deep black emptiness. Something serene. Even a slow-rolling tide couldn’t be calmer. He hadn’t felt that kind of peace in a long time, if ever; and now, as his mind struggled harder than ever to make sense of the mess he’d been catapulted into, he felt some desire for that peace to last. It was a strange thing to be jealous of the emptiness. What was space anyway? Apathetic nothingness?
Somehow it reminded him of the Trinity. How he’d seen death’s face and known true despair. Is that how it’d been on the Rotham ships just before Raidan destroyed them? Or were they wiped into oblivion before they could even realize it? He hoped, if things didn’t go well, he’d get the second treatment. And maybe then, if there were some kind of afterlife, he could be with Christine again.
He heard the door slide open, and he turned around. Summers walked in; she was alone. His instinct was to tense up, guard himself, but there was something different about her. He could see it in the way she walked. She was relaxed, even though her clothes hugged her tighter than usual, accenting her unusually beautiful physique. Her thick lips curved into a mischievous smile, and her gaze danced with his playfully.
He felt his heart thumping. And … couldn’t make sense of this change in her character. She was like a completely different person. And as she approached, he caught the scent of something wonderful. He didn’t know if it was perfume, lotion, shampoo, or what, except that it smelled clean, refreshing, and alluring.
He was too dazed to speak. His thoughts were lost as he felt his stare grip her face like some lost piece of rare, brilliant art. It just wasn’t fair that some people in the universe could be so overwhelmingly, undeniably beautiful, while the rest did their best just to pass as mediocre.
Calvin slowly shook his head. Some small part of him sounded an alarm, despite how much his eyes approved. It took more effort than he would have liked, but he managed to tear his gaze from her and turn back to the blackness which, now, seemed completely uninteresting.
“So what’s this about?” he asked, holding back the excitement he felt inside. Instead he allowed his suspicion to tint his words. After all, she had arranged this meeting, and, since she had thus far been a thorn in his side, he had no reason to think this meeting was for his benefit. He kept his eyes fixed on the window and, as best he could, breathed through his mouth in a vain effort to ignore her intoxicating scent.
“I just thought it would be nice for us to talk,” she said, slowly stepping closer and closer.
Not able to see her face, he had some trouble reading her intentions. She kept her tone simple and pleasant. “What about?” he asked, still making an effort to sound cold.
“About us,” she said smoothly.
His heart skipped a beat.
“About the tension between us,” she clarified.
He felt himself go stiff as she sidled up next to him, resting her delicate, smooth hands on the railing, next to his hands. Close enough he could touch them, if he wanted to. He tried not to look at her. When he didn’t say anything, she continued.
“I owe you an apology, Calvin. As much as I hate to admit it.”
Now he was totally lost. “For what?” He tried not to betray his confusion.
“For questioning your command on your bridge.”
She had said it slowly, almost like she meant it. Could she? That seemed wrong to him. A few minutes ago he thought he understood her perfectly, had her pegged as a zealot with a one-track mind. Take down Raidan. And Calvin had been certain she didn’t approve of him, his ship, or any of his ideas. But then again … he wasn’t a mind reader. And he hadn’t truly known her long enough to be absolutely sure who she was and what she thought. Had he?
He said nothing. Hoping her words would reveal her intentions.
But when she didn’t speak again and the silence hung between them for a while, he couldn’t help opening his mouth. “Summers … why are you really here? What do you want?”
“I want us to be friends.”
“Now why don’t I buy that?”
Her voice was soothing. “This whole thing has been an adjustment for me,” she said. “First the thing with Raidan…” She paused before continuing. “And now … here I am. It’s just hard, you know, this ship, this … mission. It isn’t what I’m used to. It isn’t my world.”
She almost sounded ashamed, like there were some real emotions hidden beneath the surface of her words. And that she struggled to articulate her thoughts sounded, to Calvin, surprisingly sincere. He felt himself relax as he took it all in.
Could this beautiful woman standing next to him really be a victim of circumstances? A soldier thrown into a ring of chaos as her commander, Raidan, betrays her, and then she’s tossed into an unknown ship working for some strange part of the military she’s unfamiliar with? A lifestyle she isn’t used to. A mission she isn’t used to. And this strong front she’s been putting up—all those walls, all her barking orders, protestations, emphasis on protocol—was that some kind of mask to hide her own vulnerability? A defense mechanism?
He didn’t know. A part of him wanted that to be true, and that part of him steered him in the direction of believing it was true. Because then, if that were so, he could imagine a future where he and Summers could coexist without tension, without being enemies, and maybe they could even be friends. It was a strange thought. But an attractive one.
On the other hand, for her to act that strong and question him so much for so long … and then suddenly change, letting her walls tumble down before him, just like that … it was too good to be true. No, the more he thought about it, the more he just couldn’t buy it. Whatever Summers was, she was more complex than that. And, he was sure, she wanted something from him. Was this her strange way of asking him to unlock the kataspace connector? Not going to happen. Even she must know that.
No … her game was something different. But what? He racked his brain wondering what she could possibly be after, and, when his mind came up blank, he knew he couldn’t rule out the possibility that she meant what she said. That she wanted to make peace. If that were true, it couldn’t have come at a better time.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she asked, her voice tender.
“Yeah,” he said on impulse. He tried to think of something to say. Anything. “Look, I’m not very good at this sort of thing. I really don’t have a lot of experience.” He chuckled to ease the awkwardness and thought of his few experiences in the past having heart-to-heart conversations with women. None had gone particularly well. “But I accept your apology,” he said. The next part came almost like a reflex. “And I apologize too, for being a really stubborn CO and not asking for your advice more often.”
She looked up at him and smiled.
It wasn’t a big smile, but there was something about it that pulled him in. The way her lips curled, her cute nose, and, above all, her bright shining eyes. He took her in for a full, rich moment and then looked away. Pretending to stare off through the window. But he wasn’t interested in the view of space anymore.
“So tell me about yourself, Calvin Cross,” she said his name slowly.
“What do you want to know?”
“What do you want to share?” Her reflection was playful.
He couldn’t keep from laughing and shaking his head at the absurdity of the whole situation. It was surreal. “Well … there’s not much to me,” he said. “I like all sorts of music. No genre in particular. My favorite food is sushi. My favorite color is green.” He didn’t say it, but it was the same de
ep shade of green that was in her eyes. “And I like hiking and swimming …” He tried to think of all the stupid get-to-know-you-in-two-minutes type questions he always ran into. “I like … puzzles …” Unable to think of any more, he shrugged. “What about you?”
She inched closer ever-so-slightly.
He felt his heart quicken.
“Puzzles?” She laughed, and it made him laugh.
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with puzzles,” he said, throwing his hands up.
“Sure, if you’re in a retirement home.” She smirked.
He liked the banter. It helped him relax around her. “What about you?” he asked again, trying to think of something incriminating about her. He couldn’t come up with anything.
“My favorite color is blue, and my favorite music is classical,” she said. “And my favorite drink is a variety of white wines.” She emphasized the last word. “What’s your favorite drink, Calvin?”
“Water,” he said. She seemed disappointed by his answer.
“You like water more than wine?”
“I’m afraid so.” He made a weak grin.
Her eyes tested him, then she changed the subject. “So what brought a hiking, puzzle-playing, city boy like you all the way out here?” she asked. When he didn’t answer right away she clarified. “Why did you join the military?”
“That’s an interesting question.” He let out a sigh. He liked this side of her. It had been too long since he’d been in such enjoyable company, and seeing her take an interest in him—though a part of him wondered if it was all a facade—felt good. But just because he liked it didn’t mean he was about to roll over and make himself an open book. “It was my best option.” He hoped to leave it at that.
“What do you mean, your best option?”
“No, no, that’s enough about me,” he said. “What about you? Why did you join the navy?”
“Okay, the truth …” She paused. “I met someone. Dark eyes and gorgeous black hair. Killer smile …”
Calvin automatically hated this person, whoever it was. But he smiled anyway as she spoke.
“I was young.” She hesitated briefly. “And sort of … impressionable. When I was about seventeen, this nineteen-year-old midshipman boarded at our house for a while. He’d talk about the stars and seeing exotic places and how much he loved being not only inside the Empire but actually a part of it.” She laughed. “He told me all these ridiculous stories about how romantic and adventurous the navy was.… I know now how silly and wrong they were. Military life isn’t even close to how he described it.”
“Like they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty.”
“Yeah …” she said, musing, lost in her past. “But I’m still glad I joined. Even if Midshipman Howe was completely full of hot air. My father”—she laughed again—”he wasn’t happy about it. Of course he didn’t like anything about Edward. Especially when we spent time together.”
“Edward?”
“Midshipman Howe. His name was Edward … and he was my first. You never really forget your first, do you?”
Despite himself, Calvin felt a pang of jealousy hearing her talk about Edward Howe. And a little anger. He didn’t like it; it was unbecoming, but … still … seeing Summers there next to him … Thinking of how beautiful she was … And thinking of some older navy officer spinning stories to take advantage of her. It bothered him. He’d always hated guys like that. And for reasons unknown to him, they always seemed to get the girl—in the end.
“Who was your first?” she asked.
His eyes widened. “That’s a rather personal question, don’t you think?” he asked. It was automatic. This wasn’t a subject he’d ever been comfortable talking about.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and suddenly he felt bad.
He didn’t know what it was, but the look she gave him, it pierced right through him, and, somehow, it became very hard to not be as open with her as she was being with him.
“I only ever had one,” he admitted. “Christine was my first and my only. Don’t get the wrong idea. I had several relationships growing up … but … they were all empty.” He looked away. Several choice memories flowed through his mind followed by a parade of unwanted ones. He had many regrets.
“So where is Christine now?” asked Summers.
He swallowed hard and, for a moment, debated whether or not he should tell her the truth. It had been years ago, and mostly he’d managed to block out the memory, but lately it had haunted his dreams night and day, making him wonder if closure was ever really possible.
“You remember that story I told you, about the Trinity?” She nodded, and he continued. “The young woman at ops, the one who was infected and died later at the hospital … her name was Christine.”
Summers didn’t say anything with her mouth, but her eyes spoke volumes. And, very tenderly, she placed her hand closer to his. Not touching his, but almost. She hesitated. Like she wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do.
But Calvin took her hand and held it, drawing comfort from its warmth. “We met when I came aboard. In fact we were in the same transfer. And we really hit it off right away. She was very playful and fun.” He shook his head once, feeling hot dry tears burn behind his eyes. “God, I loved her. Everything about her.” He was again staring off into the blackness of space, wondering if that’s where Christine was now. Some kind of peaceful, mindless bliss.
“We—” He couldn’t get himself to speak further. In part because he’d never really confronted the memory of their time together. It was still too painful. What was a few years later anyway? It felt like nothing. And Calvin didn’t want to appear weak or overly sentimental in front of Summers. He bit his tongue and kept his emotions inside.
She came even closer, until she was pressed up against him.
He felt her warmth against his shoulder and against his leg. He wanted to reach around and hold her so much … but he resisted.
When he felt he’d regained his composure, he looked her in the eyes once more, and, to his surprise, he thought he saw conflict in her. Uncertainty. And then it donned on him that she might be regretting this little heart-to-heart chat she’d initiated. Perhaps he’d said too much.
“I’m sorry if I went overboard there.” He made a half-hearted attempt at a laugh and wiped his left eye.
“No, no, it’s not that.” She hesitated. “Do you ever think … have you ever had to do something that felt wrong and you hated having to do it, but you knew you had to, like you had no other choice?”
He thought about her question for a moment. At first wondering why she had asked it. Was her mind conflicted over something, or was she just trying to change the subject from where it had strayed? Perhaps both.
Then he considered the question itself and said, “I think sometimes we do what we have to do. Medicine can taste bad. Physical therapy can hurt …” He looked into her eyes. “Or apologizing to someone and making peace with them. That can be hard too.” Strangely she looked away when he said that. That bothered him, and he let go of her hand. But didn’t move away.
There was an awkward pause, and he started thinking it was best for him to escape the situation. He’d make sense of it all later, if that were even possible, but now he needed to get away. He searched for excuses, but, before he could use one, she spoke again.
“Look at us …” She glanced up at him with a weak smile.
Their reflections were somewhat visible on the window’s surface. He returned the smile gently.
As he thought the peaceful silence was the perfect opportunity to get away, he couldn’t get his mouth to open. Feeling her there, how warm she was, and being able to open up about things that he’d kept bottled inside for years … it was hard to walk away from that.
So, as he went to explain why he should go, he ended up saying, “What about Raidan?”
“Raidan?” She looked genuinely confused, not defensive.
“It’s obvious to me that Raidan, what he did, affect
ed you deeply. You had some kind of feelings for him. What were they? What are they? What is he to you?” She seemed surprised by the questions and, honestly, he was too.
Because it took her off guard, she withdrew, just a bit, before answering. “In the past, Raidan was a mentor and a friend. And we were … close, once. But not anymore. That ended when he showed his true colors and hurt a lot of innocent people.”
“How close were you?”
“We were never really … you know. We’d spent a lot of time together, and talked and … he manipulated me. Made me believe we were building something, the two of us. But he became more and more secretive. And he lied to me.” She closed her eyes, jaw clenched. “He lied to all of us. Again and again. And we didn’t know it. We trusted him. Then one day he ordered the ship to do terrible, terrible things and … I just let it happen.”
Calvin actually felt pity for her. And, for the first time since she’d arrived, he understood why she’d kept such a hawk’s eye on him. Not just because she wanted revenge on Raidan, though that was certainly true, but because she didn’t want to repeat past mistakes. And now here he was, another CO keeping secrets from her, and he too had ordered the ship to go dark. If only she could understand why he did what he did. He tried to find words to explain it to her. But he feared they’d start an argument and erase the beauty of the moment.
“I said too much.” Summers looked down.
And then, without thinking about it, he stepped behind her and massaged her shoulders.
She was extremely tense. She retreated at first, ever-so-slightly, then she encouraged him.
He could feel her relaxing as he rubbed her back and neck for several minutes, and they made small talk. He tried the whole time to keep his mind from thinking about her body, but smelling her hair and feeling her soft back and shoulders … he lost sight of himself. And before he really understood what had happened, he took her by the arm, and, as she turned, he pulled her in tight. She cooed, and he began kissing her. Just as his hand slipped to her waist, she pulled away.
“Stop,” she said gently.
He didn’t know what to think and let go of her completely.
Just as he felt ashamed for letting it happen, she grabbed him by the hand and with a smile, she said, “Not here. Let’s go somewhere else.”
They moved quickly through the corridors, resisting the urge to run. Wanting to keep up proper appearances, they made a silent agreement not to touch in the halls, not even hold hands. Before long they were in her room. As the door closed, he went after her, but she stopped him.
“Not here.”
“Why not?”
“The walls are paper thin. Let’s go to the captain’s quarters.”
“Okay,” he said, excited by the idea of satiating his appetite for her. Even though a tiny alarm inside him was urging him to slow down. This is too fast. This can’t be right. He ignored it and asked, “So why are we here?”
“To get this.” She opened her small liquor cabinet. In it were two low-proof bottles, the maximum allowed for an officer on a starship.
Before Summers could, Calvin reached in and snatched a bottle. “Okay, here we go then.”
“No,” she snapped.
Her reaction was sharp enough to take him off guard.
But she softened her next remark immediately. “No, it has to be this one.” She took out the other bottle and made him return the one he had. Then, together, they left.
They passed two crewmen, and Summers made no effort to hide the wine in her hands—Calvin had no idea where she could hide it anyway. Instead she spoke up so the other officers could hear. “And then, Captain, I found this contraband in his room!” she barked.
Picking up immediately, Calvin replied. “Now, now, I don’t think there’s any need for serious discipline.”
Once they were alone again, they both snickered. “Did you see the look on their faces?”
They soon arrived at his quarters, and, just before pressing his thumb to the plate, Calvin remembered the bottle of equarius sitting open on the desk.
He hesitated. Part of him wanted Summers so unbelievably bad that he would have done almost anything. But another part held back, reminding him of the consequences. If she did find the equarius … that would be the end of everything.
She seemed to notice his hesitation. “What’s the matter?”
“Oh, nothing,” he said and pressed his thumb to the plate, certain he could dart into the room and stash the pills before she could get a good look at them.
The Phoenix Conspiracy Page 42
