Ages in Oblivion Thrown: Book One of the Sleep Trilogy (9 page)

“
We have rules of engagement, right? I
mean, they’re in the computer or something, all we need to do is
get into it and figure out how they apply to our current
circumstance.” Grace frowned the frown of the overly
conscience-laden.

“
That’s really Maeve’s thing. She’s
the leader, we’re the led, that sort of thing?” Antonio waved an
impatient hand at Grace.

“
Yeah, well, she’s not all pieced
together right now, is she?” He held the hand up still, to ward off
comment until he was through. “I mean, she isn’t exactly
remembering things the way they all thought she would. She’s been
glad-handing the colonel and all, I give her that, but instead of
being with us now, where is she?”

“
How would I know that?”

“
My point precisely. There is nothing
I’d want more than to have her out in front doing her thing,
because she was supposedly unparalleled in that, but she’s not who
she was.” Josh overheard the last part of the conversation, and
interjected fiercely.

“
Not to put too fine a point on this,
but you don’t know who she was before.” Josh was trying to restrain
himself in public, as Grace waved her fork at him pointedly, but
Antonio remained skeptical.

“
And you do? All you know is what Leif
has told you. He’s not exactly impartial, and if I recall, there
were quite a few concerns…not least of which was four little
letters.” Antonio was beginning to be a bit red in the face. Grace
stood to place herself between the two men. Josh was on his feet in
an instant, leaning over the table to respond with an intense
whisper.

“
You can secure that shit right now,
man. I’m the one with experience in that field, remember? What was
going on with her then is obviously not at play now. This isn’t
when we thought we were going to be revived anyway. So just…stow
it.” Antonio clamped his mouth shut in response, but it was obvious
that he was far from satisfied with the outcome. He stayed silent,
as would befit a “team player”. They were distracted from their
high emotion by one of the monks, who invited them to join in
evening meditation after dinner.

Josh and Grace elected to stay when the meal
was over, feeling much like Maeve and her scarcity of desire to
sleep. By then, Antonio was disgusted with himself, and chose to go
back to his quarters. He wondered half-heartedly what Leif and Jemi
were up to as he flung himself on his bed to read away his sorrows,
and hopefully fall asleep.

۞

Tim was off-duty the next day, and suggested
a nightclub, something of an old familiar to Leif. Reticence on
Jemi’s part was to be expected, she was more of a homebody. She was
reluctantly coerced into it at the promise of a “relaxed”
atmosphere. If she hated it, she could easily leave. This in mind,
she ambled along with her increasingly noisy companions. It was
brilliant just to be soaking in the amazing environment of the
Nimitz. In spite of its stark military function, a chaotic
architectural style flowed throughout the whole of the civilian
side.

A spectrum of design, form, and function
discarded anything that might appear haphazard, or ungainly. The
whole place was an organic patchwork quilt, whimsically engineered
for visual interest as well as utility. Walking spanned several
minutes, touring past commercial and faintly ethnic
neighborhoods.

Finally, they reached the corner in a new
quarter, and stood, feeling a pulsation of sound through the
street. Jemi had to remind herself that it wasn’t actually a street
that vibrated beneath them. Music reached out with a tentacled
embrace, sending out a sensual, unidentified tone. Tim told them
that the music was from a planet whose species who had many
similarities to Earth’s cetacean inhabitants. They went inside; all
that was immediately visible was a view of bodies moving in time to
the thundering harmony.

“
This is great!” Leif bellowed over
the din, not entirely buying his own shtick. Out of habit, he
carefully surveyed the female population of the club, already
separating the regulars from the occasionals. It didn’t seem as
frightening a meat-market as some places he’d been, but there were
the obvious types to be seen. “On the prowl,” versus, “just there
to get shitfaced,” were the two groups he usually separated the
boys and girls into. They were the only two worth worrying about.
Both were types he wished to avoid if possible.

The dance floor was packed, and there were
few empty tables. Leif decided to establish a base of operations at
one of the tables first, and then do a little recon. Tim was
watching his every move, trying to sort out what it was that the
big guy was doing. He was pretty sure that Leif was getting ready
to find himself a dance partner, as it were. Everything Leif did
seemed exacting, almost like a small unit attack was about to take
place.

“
Hey, man, what do you have, some sort
of strategy worked out here?” He was only kidding, but the ginger
head swiveled with a powerful force. Leif eyed Tim appraisingly. He
wasn’t ready to jump into the, er, dating pool yet, in spite of
anything Josh thought. On the other hand, it might be more fun to
teach the kid something than to sit stewing in his own juices all
night. He smiled roguishly and clapped a hand to Tim’s shoulder.
Tim winced and tried not to fall to his knees under the force of
the friendly gesture.

“
Bet your ass I do. I can’t dance
worth a shit, got an extreme lack o’ rhythm, y’see, but otherwise I
know what I’m doing.” He poked a finger out into the distance. “See
her over there? Yeah, I know you do. She’s a bad bet, know
why?”

“
Not really.”

“
She keeps sitting there while five of
her gal pals orbit around her. Warning signal number one. Next,
while she’s pretty hot, every guy in this place is trying to keep
the hell away from her. And she’s sitting next to the men’s room!”
He was right. And Tim was suddenly very glad he was with Leif. His
social life had been negligible to date.

“
I see. You sure know your
stuff...dude.” Leif cast him a funny look.

“
Do you guys really still talk like
that? I mean, come on, at least I have an excuse.” Tim was
downcast. “Hey, look, I’m just giving you a hard time. Do you want
to know how to figure out if a woman is going to be trouble, just
from a casual conversation?” Jemi rolled her eyes.

“
Great, the sex wars continue into the
twenty-fourth century, thanks to an historical glitch.”

“
Very well, if you’re going to take
that attitude, me and the Timster here are going to get drinks, and
you can all sod off...call me a glitch...silly females...only one
worth it is...” His voice was lost as they trailed away. Jeshma was
amused.

“
Don’t you want to go find out who the
only one of us worth anything is?” Haleh watched the guys as they
angled a spot at the bar. Jemi giggled at the comment, a light
sound that felt good to let out. At the bar, Leif was making crude
gestures and strange faces at them.

“
No, I’m pretty sure I don’t.” Jemi
didn’t have to, anyway. She already knew. “We haven’t been out in a
very long while. He, in particular, has been needing to blow off
steam.” They sat together, taking lighthearted swipes at current
fashions. The boys brought back drinks, joining in, and for Leif,
that meant anything was fair game. Pretty soon, a competition
evolved to see who could come up with the dirtiest joke.

A waitress adopted their table, and kept
refreshments flowing, to ample tipping for her. Leif was nothing if
not generous, especially with other people’s money. Tim didn’t
care. He was learning at the knee of a master. He’d already gotten
a few names and contact info, while his mentor glibly watched him
harvest the fruits of the lessons. Leif was happy to sit on the
sidelines and watch, knowing that his personal interests in the
female species lay elsewhere.

“
Let them come to you, grasshopper.
Like reed down on a spring wind.” Jemi groaned listening to the two
of them, but came to attention as a familiar song began to play.
Her head began to move to the beat in spite of herself.

“
How did they get this on their
playlist?” Tim grinned, a veritable Cheshire cat.

“
My fault. I love late, old…er,
classic popular music. I got a whole collection and gave it to the
owner. Everyone here seems to love it.” He was right. The whole
floor bounced to the rhythm.

“
Amazing. Time passes, and here we
have, in eternal life, a singer whose greatest talent was
reinventing herself every year or so.”

“
Hey, she never let herself get stale.
And man, what a body she had. I wonder what happened to her?” Leif
looked at Tim, wanting an answer.

“
I think she did the music thing until
she got tired of it and then she went off and became a
nun.”

“
She didn’t either. You’re full of
shit.” There would have been further argument, but Jemi put Leif’s
arm in a death grip. “Ow! Let go, woman, or I kick your
ass!”

“
Hush. Look over at the dance floor
and tell me what you see.” He complied, but really only because she
pushed his chin in the direction she meant. Tim twisted around in
his seat, and Haleh stood to see over their heads. Leif’s jaw fell
off, and while he was trying to reattach it, his finger pointed
accusatorily, stabbing the air violently.

“
Who is that? He’s got her pinned
against the wall!” Tim was speechless. Haleh was trying not to
laugh.

“That’s our XO. His name is Dmitry
Petrovich.” Haleh was on pretty good terms with him, as a matter of
fact. They had the same MOS, for one thing. He was an excellent
officer, for another. At least, when he was all put together, he
was. She’d been under his command when he’d…well, that was neither
here nor there.

He did have a
certain
reputation with
women that she thought might not be a good thing to bring up right
then. She wondered how it was that he’d ended up in this club with
that particular woman. A question for another time. The primary
concern was that the viking would probably make good on his
threat.

His observation was true, however. Dmitry
had Maeve up against a wall, not pinned exactly, just…surrounded.
They were kissing. They all sat, frozen, watching the pair for some
time. After a few moments, Haleh decided the best idea was to get
out of the club before a fight broke out.

Leif was one of the ones who knew her better
than most, having been in the same unit as she had. He had been as
close to her as anyone could have been at that time. They’d had a
blood bond of sorts, tied to the time they’d shared during
deployment.

It was now reduced to a remembrance,
consisting of smoke, blasted bodies, and the cries of the dying. He
tremored a bit at its touch in his mind; a time he’d tried to let
go of. Memory held its prey with the shackles that only the
guilt-ridden can forge. But there was something else there in his
mind as he watched her with another man.

“
I don’t care if his name is Ulysses
S. Grant. He doesn’t need to be doing
that
to her.” Before Leif could stand up and
walk over, Jemi spoke fiercely to garner his attention.

“
If you would bother to check, you’d
see that she doesn’t really look to be fighting him off. Maeve is a
grown woman. And it might be a good sign, if you stop and think
about it for a minute.” She shared the last observation
confidentially. No sense in letting on too much at the moment. Just
then, last call was given, and the lights came up.

Leif had to be content to sit and watch as
Dmitry and Maeve wove their way to a table, where Dmitry picked up
what had to be her jacket, and led her to the door. They made haste
to vanish in the departing flood of people. It was as if they knew
they were being watched, despite that the two had not once looked
anywhere but at each other. Jemi had a feeling that there would be
noise made over this. She looked over at Leif, who wore a grim
expression. Good grief, the man was overprotective, just as he
always had been.

۞

Maeve was completely unaware of anything
taking place outside her sphere of perception. She stood in the
street outside the club and smiled a small smile, as Dmitry went
off on some tangent that she could neither hear nor understand .
There was no better time in her mind, in recent recollection, than
the exact moment she was in. They chatted their way back to his
apartment.

He currently resided in the bachelor
officers’ housing. It was not optimal for privacy or separation
from the masses of company grade personnel. He was planning on
moving soon into the Odessa, where he’d be only down the way from
Tark, instead of on a completely different level. He unlocked the
front door, and tried to think of some ceremonious way to bring her
into his world. Dmitry Onisim Petrovich, he said to himself, you
are a piece of work. He came up with nothing, opting for a wave of
his arm. She rolled her eyes, but strode in casually, examining
every inch of surface area.

“
I guess it’ll do.” He retorted with a
withering sneer, and made his way through the low light to his
somewhat cramped kitchen. Once there, he yanked out a bottle of
whiskey, and shook it at her.

“Drink?” She shook her head with only a
modicum of attention. She had decided to cut herself off, for once.
Four healthy pours was enough, right? The aftereffects of those
were only just beginning to make it past the adrenaline surge from
being out and from being kissed…by a not unattractive man. Where
might the evening go from here?