She felt the ship lift as she reached the steps up to the flight deck. Actual flight time was effectively zero. Maneuvering into docking bays at either end chewed up minutes. It would take about thirty minutes to set back down again on the docking pad in Charlton. For a few minutes, she could relax. The coffee was to make sure she stayed awake long enough to process the last of the formalities around these three jumps before going to bed and sleeping for as long as she could.
Devlin was sitting in his usual place on the forward-facing sofa. He had boards on the table in front of him, sitting in an untidy pile next to a portable terminal and the coffee pot. He rarely used his suite anymore, except to sleep.
He looked up as Catherine entered. His eyes were red-rimmed and he was unshaved. Everyone’s grooming had grown lax, but Devlin’s disheveled appearance surprised her every time she saw him. She was too used to him being debonair.
She secretly liked that this crisis was affected him as much as it was everyone else. It made him more human.
“No, sit here,” he said as she lowered herself onto the other sofa. “There are new numbers in.”
She straightened and moved around the table to sit next to him. The portable terminal was displaying the progressive array of refugees settled elsewhere. Every ship was feeding data to the AI controlling the array, and the AI sent out daily updates. The units each represented one hundred thousand people and for the first time there were more green units than red.
“We’ve turned the corner,” Catherine said, pleased.
Devlin nodded. “The next time anyone uses the word ‘impossible’, I’m going to pull this array out and make them take it back.”
“I think most people feel the same as you do. There’s a good chance you won’t hear that word for a long time.”
“Sooner or later, humans will be back to grousing about trivia, once more,” Devlin said with a sigh and turned the display off.
“Hey,” Catherine said softly. “That’s humans for you. You’ve been around long enough to know that’s what makes us charming. It takes something like the Periglus to bring out the good side in people, then we
have
to go back to being petty. It would be boring if we were wonderful all the time.”
Devlin rubbed his eyes. Hard. “Oh, I agree with you,” he said. “We have our glorious moments. I just wish they lasted longer.”
“I think you’re tired, that’s all,” Catherine told him. “It’s hard to maintain your positivity and enthusiasm when all you can think about is closing your eyes.”
“Probably.”
“Definitely.”
He focused on her and his mouth turned up in a small smile. “Is that the captain’s executive officer speaking, or Catherine?”
“I’m as tired as you. You decide.”
He studied her. “You’ve been the backbone of this ship, Catherine. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” His voice was low.
“Now, that
is
my job.”
“Forget your job for a moment.”
“I’ll fall asleep the instant I do,” she warned him.
“Then there’s no danger if I do this…” He leaned toward her and kissed her before her sluggish mind could warn her of his intentions.
She really
was
exhausted, or she would have scooted back on the sofa and broken the kiss. Or just leaned back. Or done something other than lean into it. Because she was so tired, the contact was nice. She had spent more time in her life sleeping with someone than sleeping alone and if she had a preference, it would always be to have company in her bed, even if it was the most superficial sort. Sometimes that got her into places she wouldn’t normally choose to go, but it was harmless comfort.
At least, that was what she told herself.
The fact was, she missed kisses. She missed being
wanted
and sharing her life with someone in the most intimate ways possible.
A kiss that was so simple on the surface, was really loaded with tripwires and traps for her. She was tired, so it took seconds longer for the subconscious warnings and alarms to register. It also took longer because she liked it. Because the kiss was good.
She reared backward, almost sliding off the front of the sofa in the effort to break the kiss and move away from him. She planted her hand on the coffee table and pushed, holding herself upright, as she shifted along the sofa, putting space between them.
Devlin watched her. “I caught you by surprise. Sorry.”
“No, I don’t think you are.”
He was calm. “One day, I will be able to do that without sneaking up on you.” He got to his feet and stretched hard. “I live in hope, because just then, just for a tiny moment, you enjoyed yourself. Then you remembered why you shouldn’t.”
She could feel her cheeks heating. “You’re too good for me,” she said truthfully. “I’m an old woman with too much past and not any of it noble. You’re…you.”
“I’m just a man with hopes,” he said. “Eventually, you’ll understand that. Good night, Catherine.”
He climbed down the broad steps to the flight deck entrance and left.
Toby was standing waiting at the top of the steps. She had forgotten about him and now he was watching her with puzzled curiosity.
“Not a word,” she warned him.
He bought his hands together, the two forefingers extended and pressed them to his lips. He shook his head.
She heaved herself up on to her feet and hurried through the ship to her room. At the door she turned to Toby. “I
have
to get some sleep,” she told him. “Wake me in six hours and not a moment before.”
“Goodnight, Catherine,” he replied and winked out.
She stepped in and waited for the door to close, then sealed it. By then, she was shaking. It took all her coordination to move over to the bed. She tried to lower herself onto it, missed the edge and landed on one hip, her back up against the side of the bunk. She stayed there, hugging her knees to her chest, shivering.
Why did kissing Devlin feel so
wrong
? He was a good man, a great leader…there was nothing about him that she could point to as a fatal flaw. She
had
enjoyed the kiss for a tiny sliver of a moment.
Her terminal dinged an alert and she cursed it softly. It would have noticed she wasn’t asleep, so it was offering the incoming message to her despite the lateness of the hour.
“Go away,” she said loudly.
“Catherine?” It was Bedivere’s voice.
She shuddered and put her head against her knees. That wasn’t going to solve the problem. Running away from things never did. Oh, how she had learned that over the years!
She raised her head again. “Heads-up, please.”
The heads-up display formed right in front of her. Bedivere was on his flight deck. Of course, all the Varkan were these days, more often than not. He leaned forward, studying her, frowning. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“No,” she said truthfully. “You already know I’m not if Toby ratted on me again.”
“He did, but he didn’t say why. Has something happened, Cat?”
“I’m…just tired.”
“It’s going around,” Bedivere said softly. “Why are you sitting on the floor? You are sitting on the floor, aren’t you? There’s not much light.”
“I meant to lie down. I missed the bed.” She bit her lip. That sounded so pathetic.
“Well, I can’t reach through the screen and help you up, so you’re going to have to do that. Go on. Haul yourself up. Get into bed. I’ll wait.”
It took more effort than she thought it would to get moving. Once she managed to get up off the floor, inertia carried her forward. She sat on the edge of the bed, her muscles screaming in relief, hauled off her boots with effort, then slid under the cover. She left her clothes on not because Bedivere was watching, but because she didn’t have the energy to take them off.
She settled on her side and put her head on the pillow. The heads-up reoriented itself so that she was looking at Bedivere without having to move her head again.
“Long day?” he asked.
“You know what it’s like right now.”
“So why was Toby so insistent I talk to you?” he asked.
“Are you busy? You’re on the
Aliza
. You’re jumping right now?”
“I’m off-loading. Don’t worry about that.”
“I’m going to skin Toby a new face tomorrow,” she said. She blinked her eyes open again.
“He’s a matrix of decisions,” Bedivere said, his voice low. “You charged him with overseeing the welfare of the passengers and crew and he thinks that my talking to you will help. So how can I help?”
“You are already,” she told him. “I’m sorry he bothered you. You’ve got enough to do.”
“Feeling lonely, Cat?” This time his voice was very low. “You never have liked sleeping alone.”
The childish wail was building up inside her. She wanted to thump her thighs with her fists and stamp and scream. Unfair! Unfair! It was all so unfair…. Tears pricked her eyes. “I’ll survive,” she whispered.
He leaned forward again, his frown reappearing. “Are you crying? Damn it, Cat….”
She shook her head, which made the tears fall. “I just need to sleep.” Her voice wavered. “Please…just go.”
“Not if I can help.”
“You’re making it worse.”
He didn’t respond. She blinked, trying to clear her vision. He was watching her, an odd expression on his face.
“Bedivere?”
He nodded. “I’m sorry, Cat,” he said gently. “Sleep. I’ll talk to you later.”
Before she could ask him what that meant, what
any
of what he’d just said meant, he’d gone. The heads-up dissolved, leaving her in the dark.
Charlton Space City, New Cathay (Ji Xiu Prime), Ji Xiu System, Perseus Arm. FY 10.187
The third attack of the Periglus was shocking in its suddenness. No one had anticipated that the Periglus would use the jump gates at Kashya to travel to two separate destinations. They arrived at Sunita first only because it was closer.
There was a single warning and it came in the middle of the morning on Charlton, when Bedivere had fallen upon the sofa in the big room, too tired to bother with the narrow bed in the empty room. He had fallen asleep even though Lilly was busy at her desk and Brant was also talking up a storm using a heads-up display on the other side of the desk, discussing something about terms of servitude and release dates…it sounded intriguing. There was a lot of home news Bedivere was missing out on between the jumps from Sunita.
Connell, Zoey told him, was at the therapy center visiting Yennifer, who was recovering from something that he would also have to learn about later.
He settled his head on the sofa and considered pulling the arm cushion down for a pillow and that was the last he remembered until Lilly woke him up with a sharp shake of his shoulder.
“Bedivere,” she said, standing over him as he blinked. “I’m sorry. Connell said to wake you.”
Then the alert registered in screaming, panicky reds and purples, the volume high.
He rolled off the sofa and onto his feet in reaction, adrenaline pumping through him in a cold wave. “The Periglus. They’ve emerged from the Soward gates.”
Brant stood. “Soward is still recovering from Jovanka’s suicide. There’s no local ships, barely even a stationary station. They’re stranded there.”
Bedivere ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to wake up properly. He headed for the door. “Everyone is diverting,” he said, reading the digital data flow as he walked. He could feel everyone else doing the same. Varkan everywhere were sharing the feed, the data. Contributing to it. Working together. “Everyone is heading there. So am I.”
“Then I’m coming with you,” Brant told him. “You’re sleep-walking right now.”
“Just keep up!” Bedivere growled and broke into a run.
* * * * *
The evacuation of Soward was not nearly the challenge that emptying the Sunita system was, for there were far fewer people living on Soward. The planet had always had a small population, controlled as it had been by the Cartel for generations and limited in its population growth by the nuclear family structure it favored.
However, the gates to the Soward system were much closer to the planet than those of the Sunita system. They had very little time.
The Varkan all turned to Bedivere for direction, once they knew he was among them in the version of Interspace where their shared data was pooled. They could spend what felt like several hours talking there, while only a few seconds passed in real time, because digital communication was so much faster and more efficient. It was impossible to misunderstand or mishear someone in that place.
There, they built their plans, drawing upon their combined expertise in piloting and navigation and strategizing.
When Bedivere refocused on real time once more with the coordinates fixed in his mind, Brant was returning from the back of the flight deck where the galley terminal was, a coffee mug in his hands, steam rising lazily from it. The smell was delicious.
“Strap in,” Bedivere told him. “We’re jumping in deep atmosphere. This could get very rough.”
Brant obeyed, after putting the mug in the sling on the dashboard and letting it swing freely.
“Smells good,” Bedivere said as he gathered the power into himself, preparing for the jump. At the same time he reached out to the others, to give them the signal.
“It’s for you, idiot,” Brant said.
“Thanks. I’m going to need it.” He jumped, bringing everyone with him and reached for the controls as the ship bucked and screamed as it sliced through thick, rich atmosphere.
The only way they could slide in underneath the approaching Periglus was to jump into the atmosphere itself, which made for a bumpy entry and a frantic glide down to the surface.
Those ships that couldn’t handle atmosphere—the bigger, space-built craft like the
Hana
—docked with the shell of the station that Soward had been gradually building. There was atmosphere in the station, light gravity and not much else. It did provide an anchor and beacon for the ships.
The Sowards were shuttling up to the station in whatever craft were to hand on the surface. There were some, but not nearly enough. The Varkan ships capable of landing would carry the burden of this evacuation.