Ages in Oblivion Thrown: Book One of the Sleep Trilogy (12 page)

This would most certainly suck. Maybe
tonight would be the one that he took Sa’andy out to dinner, seeing
how their breakfast had gone out the window. And later maybe, she
might give him a backrub, while they sat in the whirlpool or
something. He started playing that scenario in the back of his mind
to keep himself motivated. This nightmare had to be the worst the
day could get. It had to go up from here. After all, hadn’t Dmitry
just said,
nothing happened
?
That had to be the uptick point for the day. The man was finally
growing up.

A few hundred feet away, just around
the curve of the hallway, a mob was being held back by a trio of
lance corporals. The throng had disembarked from a ship, which had
a layover on the
Nimitz
, just
in time for the side show. None of them, save one person, had any
idea who the woman was that had just thrown herself into the arms
of the gods. They conjectured to each other, making wagers and
speculations, while the personnel controlling them grimaced at the
macabre sense of humor with which the currency changed hands. Some
aspects of humanity never changed. They all pretended to be
horrified and shocked, while their little hearts
thrilled.

۞

One man stood in the periphery, trying
to go unnoticed. He was handsome in a symmetrically unremarkable
way. He was the kind of man that several of the single women in the
crowd would have slept with and forgotten about by the next month.
Some of them had, during the voyage between Earth and the
Nimitz
. He’d merely provided a
diversion, the same kind of momentary thrill they felt from the
flashy drama of the doctor’s death. It was guaranteed that his
presence in their lives was already washed away by it. As it luck
would have it.

He felt pleased by the organic evolution
that had come of this journey so far. One of his objectives had
been taken care for him, and he’d managed to see to his own needs.
And now, with this, he wouldn’t have to deal with any of them in a
permanent sense. He couldn’t have planned it any better. He waited
for people to start dispersing, noting how the women ignored him,
some of them clasping onto their spouses’ arms, others with family
and friends. And he rode the wake of their exit, whistling a quiet
hymn in memory of the passing of the doctor.

۞

Maeve wandered in and out of shops, feeling
aimless, but hunted. There were blips of visual memory gathering
like dark clouds around the edges of her consciousness. She had a
sense of déjà vu, and saw herself sitting on the roof of a building
somewhere, while a thunderstorm flashed and rumbled around. Her
feet had dangled over the edge, she remembered. And the urge to tip
over that edge…had been so strong. Just fall, just fall, go to
sleep, fall asleep.

All around her in the fine
gravel of the roof, little pink ovals lay scattered, and a mostly
empty glass bottle lay on its side.
She couldn’t
remember anymore. She didn’t want to. There were far too many
people around; she couldn’t sink down to her knees and weep. It was
too much. A voice from a faraway place began to ask,
why, why did you do it?

Someone touched her and asked if she was
feeling unwell. She smiled thinly and said she was fine, while cold
sweat trickled down her back. Another someone asked if there was
yet another someone to be called, and Maeve broke free from the
small crowd. She moved quickly away, at not quite a dead run, still
not knowing where she was or what to do.

Eventually she just roamed, finally coming
to a stop outside a door. With no small amount of surprise, she saw
that it was Dmitry’s quarters. Taking a chance, she knocked. No
answer. His doorway was inside a vestibule, which shielded from
view of the rest of the corridor. It was dark and deep enough to
hide in. She curled into a ball in the darkest corner, and fell
into a strange sleep.

Reinforcing troops had been too late. Time
was ticking back and forth; inconstant betrayer. No one wanted to
say the word; there was still hope. Radio silence. And what was it
that her company commander had always said? “The enemy is not evil;
they’re just wearing the wrong uniform.” Except they were wearing
the right one this time. And evil was evil. Blood in the water drew
sharks, everyone knew that. She kept hearing the phrase,
‘coordinated attacks’. By whom? Against whom? They were in the
stronghold, the acropolis…it was supposed to be safe. She felt the
phantom of pain in her belly, looked down, and watched her life
slipping away. Screaming away.

“
Maeve. Hey...wake up.” A warm hand
was on her neck. She pushed it away, as the anxiety of her
dreamscape lingered. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, but then
again you scared the shit out me.”

“
I didn’t really know what else to do
with myself.”

“
Right. Sleeping on my doorstep seems
like a good last ditch option after despair.”

“
Who said despair? I never said that.”
She looked up at him as though she could get a line of sight into
his brain. “Tarkington called you, I suppose.”

“
I cannot comment on what he may or
may not have done. You’re at
my
door, remember?” He pulled her to her feet.

“
I was bored.”

“
Lucky you; I know how to fix such
things.” He held fast to her hand and opened his door. She
hesitated. “I’m just going to change into civvies.”

“
Okay.” She wandered in after him,
seeing his living space anew. “I was hoping that last night wasn’t
going to be….” Dmitry walked out into the living area, shirtless,
and she fell silent.

“
What, awkward?” He chuckled. “More
for me than you, I think.”

“
What’s that supposed to
mean?”

“
Relax.” He fished a bottle of wine
from a cupboard and spent several moments rattling through a drawer
in search of a corkscrew. “It’s just that, ow! Found the pointy end
first. Sorry. Well, I have a, um, how should I put this…reputation?
Around here, people usually see me out with…ladies…on a regular
basis.”

“
Are you trying to tell me that you’re
a ‘player’?”

“
A what?”

“
Someone who plays the
scene.”

“
I guess. Ahem. Well, the thing is, I
have my own reasons. And I’m not to be taken seriously. So don’t.”
He avoided her stare.

“
You’re getting ready to ‘entertain’
me, while telling me I, what, ought to go away?”

“
No, not really. It’s mostly that Tark
will murder me in my sleep if I….” He fiddled with the cork, prying
it out with some difficulty. “I hope this hasn’t gone to vinegar.
Smells alright. Anyhow, let’s just say that I fouled up really
badly a while back. Tark fought on my behalf, and got me out here
on this duty posting. While he overlooks my socializing, he seems
to be particularly attached to you and your friends. I would truly
like not to infuriate my only real friend.”

“
So, he
did
send you after me.”

“
Only after he shouted at me earlier
this morning.”

“
And said, or shouted, what? Hands
off?”

“
One might draw that conclusion.” She
came around the counter to where he stood, sullen fury knitting her
brows.

“
And what if
I
have other feelings on the matter?” Maeve took
a step closer, he stepped back.

“
And I should say what, that a
vulnerable woman threw herself at me, while I in my…infinite
whatever…had no power to resist?”

“
No, I’m asking what
you
want
.”
Dmitry was backed into a corner. It was an odd sensation, as she
stood just watching him with that empty look in her eyes. He did
the only thing he could think of. He took her into his arms and
held her. She was tall enough that she could rest her head on his
shoulder. It was a bit like cradling a wild animal. Every moment
brought a new struggle, as her instinct to run fought for control,
in spite of what she’d said. Finally, she looked up at him, hoping
to see that he’d changed his mind. More than anything, she wanted
to feel something. Anything.

His eyes seemed more blue than grey right
then, like a stirred-up stream that is finally settling its
sediment back down. How could she tell him that she was more like
him than the fragile innocent that she’d been made out to be?
Colonel Tarkington had transformed her into a younger sister. That
much was obvious. She wanted to be different than that. Dmitry, in
return, saw what was in her eyes and resisted with what remained of
his dwindling willpower. He looked off into another corner of the
room before speaking.

“
That is just not fair.”

“
What?”

“
Well, times have changed, and I like
to think humanity has evolved a bit, but certain things are still
controlled by biology.” He gritted his teeth as she stood to her
full height and drew in closer, as near eye to eye as she could
muster. “Don’t.”

“
You
don’t.
I’m not a child.” She was as near to both their limits as he could
stand. He gently backed away from her, holding her hands, to keep
her from leaving.

“
He will…kill…me.” This was probably
only partly true. Dmitry was having a hard time trying to sort out
what his true reluctance was.

“
It’s not his life. It’s mine.” She
hated the desperation that crept into her voice.

“
We both owe him.” He was earnest, for
once in his life; completely and utterly serious. Maeve’s protest
died unspoken; all her indignation dissipated. She fell back
against the counter in his kitchen, as the morning finally caught
up to her.

“
So what now, then?” She allowed him
to put his arms around her once more, to press his forehead to
hers, to lose herself in that small comfort. It was all she would
receive, apparently.

Dmitry was still trying to reengage his
resolve. Thinking carefully for some few moments, he searched for
another moment in his life such as this. He had turned down a
woman. She’d been willing to go as far as he’d wanted, and probably
still was. He’d resisted, not because he didn’t want her, but for
some other reason.

That reason sat grinning at him from a
corner of his consciousness, but he wouldn’t look at it. Not yet.
Instead, he held onto her, as her breathing slowed, and she finally
relaxed. Only then did he allow himself to kiss her gently,
differently than the night before. That earlier kiss had come over
them both in the heat of a moment, aided by spirits of many sorts.
This was…better. Real. They both lingered in it, each with their
own thoughts, neither wanting it to end.

“
I’m exhausted.” Indeed, she did look
completely drained, though no longer so unhappy as she had. He ran
his hand through her hair.

“
You can hide out here, if you want.”
He let his hand stay resting comfortably on the back of her neck
again. She smiled faintly, while his mind raced down a thousand
roads. “I have to get back. At least I can tell Tark that you’re
ok.”

She curled up on his sofa, and drifted off
to sleep, away from whatever it was that haunted her. Lost under
layers of slumber, she seemed safely within a dreamless expanse
finally. That security might have come from being in his
environment. In fact, she’d cocooned herself in a blanket and
fallen completely silent.

It seemed to Dmitry, as he made certain she
was asleep, that her life must be reduced to its mere elementals.
Eat, sleep…human contact, that was all there was left. He was still
reluctant to admit that Maeve was impacting on his life, but he
felt as though a day of reckoning was at hand. The fires that he
could see burning internally in Maeve were building in him as well.
These were phoenix flames; low, dark, hot, bent on creating the
world anew.

Dmitry eventually found his way back to the
bridge. Tark hadn’t returned yet. Apparently he was still too
deeply ensnared with the investigation of the rather unseemly
demise of the doctor. Personally, he figured they were both
relieved that the woman was finally gone. Nobody ought to go that
way, but still. He’d run across her doing more than anybody’s share
of strange things. It had been his tip-off that had prompted Tark
to start monitoring her communications.

Unfortunate, really, that she’d been a
wacko. Dmitry had been getting the reports delivered directly to
him. He hadn’t even submitted his final evaluation to Tark yet. Not
much point to it now, he supposed, except to bolster the
depositions given at the inquest. Not having witnessed it directly,
he couldn’t quite imagine how she’d managed such a thing in such a
short amount of time. It should have required more planning, but
he’d not come across any hint of it in her messages.

He’d never seen something like that in his
experience, so he wasn’t entirely sure. Tark would be able to tell
him more details. Dmitry left forward observation in search of
Tark, wanting the full truth before it got warped by too many
retellings. It was barely past midday.

If he was lucky, he could catch up with Tark
before he disappeared into the slew of meetings that were bound to
take place. He knew he had his own long list to attend to as well,
but it could wait. A little voice in his head reminded him that he
was avoiding his job. It was true. He was not a fan of admin. It
was not sexy. It was not fun. Loyalty and pride kept him doing it
anyway.