by Kylie Scott
Farris tried to help the burning man but he could hardly get near him. Then the fire hit Gideon's canister of oxygen. They all carried one, ten minutes' worth, which would only prolong the inevitable should anything go wrong in a mine so deep. But that was the company, always putting a good face on things. With an almighty whoosh the fire exploded, overtaking the other man, and Adam took flight as if he'd grown wings. He crashed into the side of the transport and lay crumpled, in a world of pain, concussed and with one collarbone snapped.
Farris staggered toward him, burning up. Gideon had already hit the ground, a charred corpse. Adam forced himself up. The pain in his head and shoulder burned as bright as any flame. He tackled Farris. Took him down and rolled him in the dirt.
Then he started to burn too, explosive agony eating him whole.
Adam jack-knifed upright in bed, his lungs afire and his chest...shit. It felt as if each and every rib had been cracked in two and his heart still pounded into them, reducing them to kindling. He had to breathe, to focus. In and out, slow and slower, just like the shrink had said. He'd only attended the mandatory three sessions but all the bullshit advice could be simmered down to one simple trick. In and out, slow and slower, breathe through it.
He didn't need a hug. He just needed to breathe.
The sheets clung to him, his body slick with sweat and way too warm. The whole thing felt like a fever dream, only the sickness was in his head, stuck in his memories. This new horror melded with the old superbly, all the things he'd seen and done during the war. Fifteen years on and it all felt fresh again, horribly so. His dreams were cluttered with Russian and Mandarin. Words he'd thought forgotten.
Fuck. The room seemed as dark and cold and silent as space. It took him a moment to place the presence of another body on the far side of the bed.
The woman thankfully remained asleep. She lay curled up on her side, facing away from him. Any farther over and she might fall off the mattress. Her coat had definitely been removed. The sheet had been pulled up to her waist and a tank-top covered the rest. He watched the slow rise and fall of her shoulder. Her white skin was so vivid in the darkness that he couldn't help but latch on to it. Because giving in to his fears and turning on the light was going too far. He'd lived through a war. No way would he be defeated by bad dreams. For fuck's sake--next he'd be trying to hide under the bed.
Her porcelain-perfect shoulder was the most he'd seen of her. Mesmerized, he watched, matching his breathing to hers. Hers was calm and even. Steady. He found it surprisingly helpful. In and out. Slow and slower.
Eventually, everything slowed. He kicked back the sheet and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The floor felt blessedly cool beneath his feet. It was tempting to get down and press his cheek to it, but he didn't. The heat gradually dropped out of him and sank into the floor.
The air cooled off through the night--typical mining corp saving money where it could. She'd get cold, exposed like that. Last thing he needed was her waking up, bitching about the lack of heat. Adam tugged up the blanket and carefully covered her, just in case. There, all better.
She didn't stir. She was probably exhausted.
He waited until he was certain his legs would hold him, then he let his feet carry him toward the nearest bottle of liquor.
Chapter Two
Day Two
Louise snaked a hand out from beneath the blanket to test the temperature on the other side of the bed. Cold. She was alone. Her body sagged into the mattress. After snaring her elbow to break her fall, he hadn't tried to touch her again. Thank the gods. Everything ached, the muscles in her neck and back rigid from the shift in gravity. At least her stomach had settled.
She rolled onto her back and stretched, staring at the ceiling. Let her mind wake at its own pace. There was none of the din of traffic from back home. It seemed almost preternaturally quiet. Goose flesh covered her arms from the chill in the air.
Back on Earth, the district attorney had moved her through a series of squalid holes in the last year and a half, always with security hovering. Guards had become the one constant in her life. Alone time had involved shutting herself in closet-sized bathrooms, surrounding herself with peeling paint and mold. For her sanity's sake, she'd learned to live in her head and to imagine herself far, far away. This domicile looked nice, comfortable if a little bland with its china-white walls and pale synth-wood surfaces. Larger than the studio apartment she had shared with Con for all those years.
Tempting to hide out all day, but the DA had been specific in his instructions. Act normal. Show an interest. Mingle and blend. Blending sucked.
She got up and drank a cup of coffee. Put on the ugly and oversized clothes the DA had gotten her and headed out. The clothes and a new com unit were the only things she owned. Nothing remained of her past.
The colony had been built eighteen years ago in a pre-existing cave system due to hostile weather conditions up top. There were sections of gray and brown wall polished to a perfect sheen, but others were rough, natural. Population just over a thousand, eighty percent company staff and the rest civilians. Males outnumbered females eight to one, hence the marriage contracts. Women spent years on waiting lists so they could travel through space and live on a moon with a man they'd never met. But the district attorney had dealt with everything, shoved her on the ship and told her to keep her head down.
Louise wandered through myriad corridors. There were many, many men. Each and every one nodded to her, though not all smiled. She heard much "ma'aming" going on. Not a word she was used to. Very old-style manners seemed the go. Men even stepped out of her way, as if such a thing were a matter of course, due to her because of her minority sex.
And lots of eyes lingered on her long after they shouldn't have. What if they recognized her? What if they'd found her? Louise's stomach cramped and dread crept down her spine.
No. Not possible.
She dared a look back and found a man staring at her ass. When he realized, she watched his puffy cheeks turn pink. He muttered a "ma'am" and turned and fled. Git. She jammed her clammy hands into the pockets of her cargo pants. Her crappy clothes couldn't have provided much of a view. She was safe. Just not from being ogled, apparently.
She let her feet lead her, since it didn't much matter where she went. She was out and mingling, blending...sort of.
Something drew her up ahead, a change in the light and a mystery fragrance. It smelt far from unpleasant, closer to tantalizing. Not quite foreign but not exactly familiar, either. It smelled like a...like a garden. Scents of earth and foliage grew stronger until she emerged onto a massive platform. The place looked like a hive with the middle removed, giving way to a sprawl of rising jungle. A jungle secreted beneath the ground.
Louise stopped dead and stared in slack-jawed wonder. Some of the trees reached almost to the lights embedded in the ceiling three flights above. Amazing. A garden grew up through the center of the colony.
With a flash of color, a bird took flight, disappearing deeper within the tangle of greenery. She had never seen anything like it. On Earth, only the rich had access to anything like this. It was unprecedented.
Louise rushed to the platform's edge and gripped the metal railing, hanging over it like an excited kid. Her short hair brushed against her cheeks and the blood rushed to her face. How glorious. There was about a two-story drop to the garden floor. There had to be a way down. Her com would have maps. She patted down her pockets. Damn it. She'd forgotten it.
But the lifts would get her there, surely. Yes. She needed to see the garden close up. Needed to walk under the boughs of the trees and feel the grass beneath her feet. The grandeur of nature had seemed a thing of the past, like a myth.
A lift opened and a miner in a gray corp suit stepped out, giving her a wide berth when she nearly stumbled into him in her rush. The silver doors slid silently shut and a woman stared back at her. A stranger. She frowned so hard at herself that she screwed up her face. Wrinkled her nose and skewe
d her mouth. It wasn't her anymore. She wasn't "her" anymore. Her father's green eyes were gone. So too were the red curls care of her mother's side of the family. Her eyes were dyed dark and her hair too.
Normally she avoided mirrors. They were just a reminder that she would never get to be herself again. Never see her family or friends. That life had passed.
The silver doors parted and she exhaled in a rush. Everything seemed green and lush and perfect. Everything was alive and growing. The scent of it filled her. She breathed deeply, taking in the damp, rich smell of the soil and the heady fragrance of flowers. Over and over again she took it all in. Her cheeks hurt from smiling.
Before her, the doors began to slide shut and she stuck out a hand to halt them. Louise stepped out of the metal cage and into the garden.
*
The wife was asleep, exactly how he'd planned it. Adam crept in, careful not to disturb her. He sank down onto the end of the bed, so damn tired his bones felt brittle, sapped of energy.
Taka had sat with him for hours, playing endless games of chess and sipping sake long after Rose had gone to bed. And she had gone there with her pretty nose out of joint. The state of his marriage as a topic of discussion had got old fast. Apparently the woman hadn't met Rose for her tour today despite repeated com requests. As if it was his fault his wife was antisocial. Actually, he could almost appreciate that. Or at least understand it. She might be overwhelmed by all the changes.
But no, he hadn't wanted to discuss his wife or their supposed marriage. Rose had thrown her hands in the air more than once. Taka had raised a brow but said nothing. He'd continued to say nothing until Adam had stumbled to the door, a bit inebriated. Again.
"Give it a chance," his friend had said.
But was that what his wife wanted?
Adam set a hand back on the mattress and let his head roll onto his shoulder, let the lethargy take him. So damn tired. The low lighting cast shadows but her face seemed clear and softer in sleep, filled with none of the disappointment or distaste of their meeting yesterday. She slept on her side with a hand tucked beneath her cheek like a child. But her other arm lay on the bed, curled up and around her head as if she were hiding herself or guarding against attack, expecting it.
Curious. Adam shuffled farther onto the bed to get closer.
There was a scent, luring him in, inviting him closer still. The bare curve of her shoulder lay right there, so he leaned over and sniffed. No one would know. Citrusy, lemony--who knew? It was nice. He breathed deeply again and again.
Louise made some small noise and rolled onto her back. The hand guarding her head rose and her palm flattened against his chest. Adam held perfectly still, didn't even dare to breathe. Her fingers pressed into him, not hard enough to push him away, more as if she were stretching, kneading.
Her eyes opened, big and dark and sleepy. "Adam?"
"Yeah." He hovered over her, frozen. In truth, he couldn't have moved to save himself and he couldn't have said why.
The hand dropped from his long-sleeved T-shirt but her drowsy gaze remained on him. She wasn't awake. Not really. He shouldn't have disturbed her. Sniffing her while she slept. What the hell had he been thinking?
"It's okay. Go back to sleep," he said.
She said nothing, dark eyes peering back at him.
"You're safe."
"Okay." The eyelids drooped and she turned her head away from the light and him.
Adam crept off the mattress, eyes on her the whole time. The stranger in his bed, for better or for worse. His wife, courtesy of Gideon dying and a contract signed before either of them had ever met. How binding could it be? What did such a joining even mean?
She looked so soft in sleep. He lost track of how long he stood there, staring at his wife.
Chapter Three
Day Three
The marriage coordinator's office was a bastion of beige. Louise perched on the edge of the well-stuffed sofa with a strained smile, hands in her lap, shoulders back and spine whip-straight. Her neck ached. It felt like posing for a school photo, endlessly, being on her very best behavior.
Unfortunately she had dirt crusted beneath her fingernails. Surreptitiously, she tucked them under the palms of her hands, curled them out of sight.
A line of certificates hung on the wall. After almost half an hour of studying them, she pretty much had their contents memorized. It stopped her from giving in to the temptation to pick out the muck from under her nails and litter the pristine carpet. Because that would be petty and rude.
Christiana, the counselor, delicately cleared her throat and turned to the com unit sitting on the arm of her chair for the hundredth time. The woman had it down to a fine art. First a subtle twist of the head followed by a stroke of the finger to bring the com screen to life. Then her shiny pink lips would open to release a little irritated huff of breath.
"I don't think he's coming," Louise said, because after twenty-nine minutes someone needed to state the obvious. "He probably got held up at work or something..."
"Unusual for a first session." Perfectly arched brows drew tight. "How does that make you feel, Louise?"
"I feel we should try re-scheduling."
"Not the practicalities, Louise--your emotional response." Pink lips twisted into a dry smile. "Please."
"Unsurprised? We've been together for less than forty-eight hours--discussing the marriage seems premature," she said. Christiana's gaze dropped to Louise's lap, where her fingers fiddled. "And nervous. I feel nervous."
"I'm here to help you, not judge you, Louise. You don't have to feel nervous."
And yet her shirt clung wetly beneath her arms and her jaw ached. Go figure. "All right."
"Why don't you tell me about what you've been doing since you got here?" the counselor invited.
"Well, I've been volunteering down in the horticultural division. This morning we were transferring seedlings. Mostly leafy greens for consumption." Because there was more than the one central garden down there, the entire level had been given over to feeding the colony. There were aquaponic set-ups spanning entire rooms. It was the strangest thing, but she loved it. It energized her.
The counselor nodded but her eyes said something was wrong. A test had been failed. "That's good, but I thought we could talk about your marriage. How are things going with Adam?"
Oh. Him.
Her gaze slid back to the certificates on the wall with their fancy gilt print. Confessing she hadn't seen her husband since her arrival didn't seem wise. She'd gone to sleep alone and woken up alone, again. The only evidence of their inhabiting the same space was the indentation left in his pillow. "Slowly but surely. There's no rush, right?"
"Right. But it's important to work on establishing a bond that can see you through any early relationship hiccups. Have you been physically intimate yet?" Christiana picked up her com unit and her fingers danced across the screen. "Louise?"
Physically intimate. Nice wording. It might be Christiana's job, but still. Her prurient interest made Louise's skin crawl. It was tempting to lie, but this woman could likely pick out a falsehood two planets off. The DA had always said to stick as close to the truth as possible. What little of it she'd been allowed to own.
"No. We haven't been physically intimate."
"Unusual." The counselor's brow furrowed. "Louise, it's very important to initiate a physical understanding with your partner as soon as possible. The uniqueness of these relationships means they have their own set of guidelines, established to give your marriage the best chance of success. These kinds of expectations were all made clear to you before you left Earth, weren't they?"
"Yes." The DA and judicial police had lectured her for hours unending. Mining company policy regarding contract marriages had been covered in depth. Them and their many, many expectations. If this hadn't been the one sure method for her to disappear into the ether, she would never have boarded the big ship. But then, Gideon had given her hope. Her heart ached at the thought of him
.
"All right, Louise..."
"Who does that report go to?" She tipped her chin at Christiana's com unit.
The woman gave her a small smile but didn't answer the question. "We have six weeks until the next passenger ship arrives, Louise. In that time there will be mandatory weekly couple's counseling sessions. I'll be sending a communique to your husband to alert him to that fact."
Christiana stood and brushed her hands over her skirt. "There is no reason to believe you'll be returning on the ship to Earth, Louise. Not if you work with me."
The counselor might have meant the words to be fortifying but Louise could only hear the underlying threat. A death threat, though Christiana couldn't know that. Louise's throat closed and she had to force out the words, "I will".
*
Adam stood stiffly in the front line of the assembly with his wife at his side in a staid black dress. It did nothing for her. The heels weren't bad though. The heels were...something.
This would make the fifth memorial since the accident. Just in case anyone doubted the depth of the company's grief at the loss of two men. The assembled stood on the observation deck. Apart from some storage outlets, it was the only part of the base constructed aboveground. The glass ceiling gave a spectacular view of the galaxy going about its business overhead. Space made for a fine distraction once gazing at his wife's sexy shoes got old.
Nathan Hillier, the chief operations officer, read prose sent from Earth to the couple of hundred gathered. With each useless occasion the number dwindled further. One day soon they would cut out this shit entirely and Adam would breathe a huge sigh of relief.
Eventually the chief wound things up and one of the loftier executives on-site stepped up. The suit-and-tie cleared his throat and braced his hands on the podium. His eagle eyes bored down on the crowd.
And then the bastard began recounting the nightmare, no detail missed. Gideon engulfed in flames. Farris trying to get close enough to drop him and roll him in the dirt. Adam running for the Halon aboard the transport. Everything.