CHAPTER 23
lt’s just like that first time,
all over again.
I’ve finally got what
I wanted so bad. Here I sit in the nav chair, ready to jack in,
next to a pilot who wants nothing to do with me. I already tried to
apologize, but he’s having none of it.
That scrapes the
wrong way since I want to keep us from making a terrible mistake.
If I pull back, then hearing the worst will be easier on us both.
And if we get good news, then we’ll be dying to get back in bed,
anticipation and all that.
March thinks I’m full
of shit—that I’m inventing reasons to push him away. That’s not
true. I just don’t want him to suffer like I did when I lost Kai. I
have to know there’s hope before I let this thing between us go any
further. So maybe it’s better this way, better if he hates me. He’s
so afraid of losing me that he can’t see I’m scared out of my mind,
too. I’m trying to be strong.
How can you miss
someone who’s right beside you?
I put all that aside
as we run a systems check and prepare to depart. I’m a
professional. Doesn’t matter how I feel, or that my stomach flips
like a dying fish at the thought of being part of him again. The
desire to jump twines painfully with the desire to jump March.
This ship vibrates a
lot more than the Folly. It’s smaller, for
one thing. Not sure if we possess any weapons at all. If we don’t,
Dina’ll want to collaborate with Jael on it. I haven’t had a chance
to ask if she made any upgrades while we waited.
All told, we spent
fourteen days on Emry Station, but the cavalry has arrived. Surge
and family will remain on station, but Jael’s coming with us. I’m
not sure we need a gunner on a diplomatic mission, but given my
track record, it’s not a terrible idea.
“We’ll stop on
Lachion first,” March says. “Doc needs to see you, and I need to
take care of personal business there, too.”
“Tarn isn’t going to
like it.”
“He’ll like it less
if you drop dead.”
Yeah, he’s back to
the old March where I’m concerned. It hurts to look at him, so I
jack in, though we haven’t left the station. The cockpit
disappears.
We’re waiting for
clearance. I’ve already checked the star charts to translate the
distance I need to navigate.
They’ve disabled the
automated docking system until they decide what to do about the
Morgut threat. I heard them kicking around the idea of having
Conglomerate ships outfitted with a special device that signals the
system it’s safe. Such technology can be cracked, though. The other
solution is requiring the docking bays be manned twenty-four/seven.
Either option requires a bigger budget.
March gets on the
comm, hailing the guys in the office. “We’re good to go.”
“Roger that. Thanks
for everything, Bernard’s Luck. We’d have
lost a lot more lives out here if you hadn’t happened by.”
I feel the lift as we
maneuver out. Though I can’t see, I picture March’s hands on the
controls. He’s sure and graceful as he flies. I hear him telling
the crew to strap in, so we’ll be making the jump soon.
“You ready?”
No.
But I nod, bracing
myself for the moment when the universe unfurls. And then March
jacks in beside me. Partitioned, of course. He doesn’t want to
share anything with me right now. Well, I can do it, too; I’ve
learned a lot from him. I won’t give him a damn thing
either.
The ship shudders as
the phase drive powers up. Dina reports all clear just before we
make the jump, and then the world flashes out.
Fucking beautiful.
My mind expands to
infinite space. Grimspace feels like flying, the only place I’m
completely free. I sense the beacons, alluring as innumerable
heartbeats thudding in time. Somehow there’s harmony in the
chaos.
For a moment, just a
moment, I think I might understand everything, but then it shifts to something else
and floats away. I can’t hold on to anything here, not even my own
soul. The sense that everything’s connected on some level I can’t
grasp haunts me. But I’m not here to suss out the secrets of the
universe today.
I just need to find
the beacon nearest Lachion. I’ve made this run more than once, so
the path comes easy. Funny how March and I can do this so coolly,
sharing nothing, where we used to be one mind.
Well. Funny, like a
needle in the eye.
He knows what
grimspace looks like, its mad, consuming beauty. Few people do if
they aren’t jumpers themselves. They’ve never managed to develop a
camera that can reproduce what it sees, the impossible patterns and
oscillations found here.
I sense the
adjustments he makes, guiding the ship in response to my cues. The
pulse roars in my ears. We’re
here.
And then I go blind
again while the ship trembles its way back into straight space. No
wonder mudsiders think spacers are crazy. Anytime we make a long
haul, we could be lost forever. Over the years, they’ve reduced the
odds considerably, but freighters still vanish now and then. A
gamble at good odds is still a gamble.
Taking care with my
bad hand, I unplug. My head hurts, more than it used to when I
left. It sucks a little more of my soul each time. There will come
a day when I’ll simply be empty. Even if March manages to drag me
back again, the next time I cruise too close to burnout—assuming
he’d bother now—I’m not sure there would be anything left.
And I don’t care.
Beneath the tired aches, serenity flows through me like a river
dammed too long. This is a jumper’s lot. I don’t know how the
instructors do it. Since they want me to teach on Lachion, though,
I guess I need to figure it out.
His voice startles
me. I thought we wouldn’t be speaking for a while. “We’ll be there
in a couple of hours. You did well.”
“Thanks.” Courtesy
feels awkward.
I want to tell him to
go fuck himself if he can’t understand what I’m going through. It’s
not all about him. March has abandonment issues, and it’s not my
job to soothe them. Just now I can’t muster up the energy.
“Your fire’s gone
out,” March says. “You used to feel like a live wire, Jax.”
“All the more reason
for me to step back,” I tell him with a fraction of my old bite.
“If that was what you loved about me, and I’ve lost it, then what’s
left?”
“You really don’t get
it, do you?”
“No.”
March rakes a hand
through his dark hair. Over the past weeks, his has actually gotten
longer where mine has stopped growing entirely. He looks rough and
a little menacing with the stubble on his jaw.
“You’re killing me
here. You’re asking me to leave you the fuck alone just when you
need me most. How can I do that?”
“I’ll make it easy
for you.” I push from the nav chair and duck out of the cockpit.
Nothing ever hurt like walking away from him.
I can’t accept that
I’m crazy for asking for time, though. Why can’t he understand that
I need some chance to be strong again? I don’t want to lose myself
in leaning on him. If I can’t stand on my own two feet when I need
to, then I might as well be dead.
Suddenly my dad’s
plan—the Eutha-booth—doesn’t look half-bad.
Instead of stopping
to chat with the others, I pass straight through the hub and head
for my quarters. I have two hours to kill. Maybe I’ll dump my
problems on 245 and see what she suggests.
To my vast annoyance,
the AI tells me I have company, almost as soon as I flop down on my
bunk. As the door slides open, I growl, “I thought I told you to
leave me alone.”
Dina steps back,
feigning surprise. “Did you? I didn’t hear for all the bitchy
stomping around you’ve been doing for the last few weeks. You need
to get laid.”
I lie back with a
sigh. “No, I don’t. I need to find out from Doc just how bad off I
am.”
“You’re completely
fucked,” she says at once, but it’s more of a reflex. “I brought
biscuits and choclaste. I thought we could talk about hot
guys.”
That makes me raise
up on an elbow. “You don’t do hot guys.”
“But you do. We can talk hot chicks if it makes you feel
better,” she offers. “Kora wasn’t my type, but I liked the doc they
sent along from New Terra.”
“I bet you did.”
Despite my misery, I eat a cookie. “Wonder who she pissed off to
get that assignment.”
“She punched someone
for feeling her up.” Dina grins.
I raise a brow. “And
you discovered this while feeling her up?”
Dina shakes her head
as she commandeers the chair beside my workstation.
“Afterward.”
“Of course. Why are
you being so nice to me?”
She shrugs. “Someone
has to be. You look like a fucking death’s-head.”
Nobody else on the
ship knows. Since she’s a smart woman, she noticed something’s
wrong. But she doesn’t know what. It might do me good to confide in
a human being for a change, one who isn’t interested in screwing
me.
So I do.
