Overload Flux (20 page)

He had since become quite happily accustomed to having something that resembled a predictable schedule, with regular meals. He made a mental note to ask Mairwen how she was handling the schedule changes that had been thrust upon her since she’d begun working with him. He had a tendency to think of her as superhuman, and that wasn’t a fair expectation.

Luka tried again in the exercise room after lunch, with no better or worse results. He’d chosen what he’d thought was a less difficult memory, and still had to use Mairwen as a lifeline. Irritably deciding he needed to think about something else, he holed up in his stateroom to read a couple of technical journals and take a short nap. He’d run more treadmill miles in the past two days than he usually did in a week on the trails at home.

The evening meal was a mix of more good food courtesy of Adams, a spice-rubbed duck and grilled squash and onion, and more sparkling conversation, courtesy of Haberville. The dinner party atmosphere was nice for Adams and DeBayaud. Luka might have appreciated it more if he hadn’t been frustrated by his lack of progress with his talent, and if it hadn’t reduced Mairwen to monosyllables. It didn’t help that the conversation often wandered into personal matters. Still, as nominal leader, he made an effort to interact with his team.

“…her parents made her wait until she was sixteen to get her birth control implant,” DeBayaud was saying. Luka gathered he was talking about a former lover.

“Heavenly Sovereign, why?” asked Haberville, with indignation.

“I know, right? Some notion that it would stop her from having sex.” DeBayaud shook his head.

“That’s insane,” said Adams. “I got mine at twelve, when I started puberty.”

“I was eleven,” said Haberville. “What did her parents have against sex?”

Luka swallowed the bite he’d been chewing. “Maybe they didn’t dislike sex so much as the thought of their child growing up.”

DeBayaud nodded his agreement. “Wouldn’t surprise me. They were kind of creepy, the one time I met them.” He smiled mischievously. “I bet her career as one of the top sex feelie artists in the industry really pisses them off.”

Haberville laughed. “Karma’s a bitch.” DeBayaud and Adams laughed with her, and Luka smiled.

She speared another bite with her fork, then waved it in Luka’s direction. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, what’s with all the running?”

Luka counted himself lucky that he had another mouthful of food, giving him time to come up with even a vague answer. “I’m training.” He should have thought of an excuse before this.

“For a race?” asked DeBayaud. “The Etonver Invitational isn’t for another six months.”

Luka shook his head. “I’m not that good.” He was coming up blank on the names of any other races.

Unexpectedly, Mairwen came to his rescue. “For a track run for a charity. He asked me to coach him.”

That he was able to hide his surprise was only due to years of experience testifying in high court against the galaxy’s best adversarial lawyers. He wondered if she’d just made it up, or already had foreseen the possible question and prepared a plausible story. He’d bet on the latter.

“Really? Have you raced?” asked Haberville, latching onto the first bit of personal information Luka had heard Mairwen offer since the trip began.

“Yes,” said Mairwen.

Haberville gamely tried again. “I love watching runners, especially when the men wear those little thongs or better yet, go full native. Any races I would have seen you in?”

Mairwen shook her head and went back to eating.

Luka looked down to hide his amusement. Haberville was no better at getting anything out of Mairwen than the Etonver police interrogators had been.

Haberville might have pressed, but she was distracted by DeBayaud.

“Did you see the Prime City Classic three years ago? I came in seventeenth. My best time ever.”

“Only because he was being chased by his cohab partner at the time,” teased Adams.

DeBayaud groaned. “Don’t remind me. I was lucky to get out of that contract with my bank account intact. That woman went through cash like it was past its expiry date, and kept expecting me to bail her out.”

The conversation turned to memorable vacation trips, of which Luka had none worth mentioning. His career choice had never lent itself to predictable leisure time. If he didn’t get a handle on his talent, he might have unintended leisure in his near future.

He caught Mairwen’s eye, then subtly tilted his head toward the exercise room. She nodded slightly and continued eating. He made a mental note that she seemed to enjoy the duck and squash, but only ate one bite of the cinnamon apple compote before abandoning it.

Since Adams cooked, Luka had suggested the rest of them should take on cleanup duty. Haberville once again managed to duck it, this time by taking Mairwen’s unfinished apple compote to Ta’foulou in the nav pod and not coming back. Once Haberville was asleep, he’d have to check the nav pod for any other dishes she’d left around.

After changing into running shoes, he headed for the exercise room with Mairwen. He was doubly glad for her cover story, because it meant they no longer had to pretend to meet in the exercise room by chance.

She stationed herself near the wall, facing the treadmill. He followed and hung his towel on the nearby rack. Knowing they were alone, he leaned in for a quick kiss, then whispered, “Thank you. Which charity?”

“Rashad Tarana Survivors. It’s a half marathon in eight weeks.”

It was an event he might actually have chosen had he known about it. No one deserved what had been done to the people of Rashad Tarana. “When did you look it up?”

She brushed calloused fingertips along his neck and jawline. “This morning, when I saw how… focused you were going to be.”

He smiled. “That’s a nicer word than ‘stubborn.’”

“I know.” She kissed him, then stepped back.

He set the treadmill for an easier pace, since his legs were already sore. He chose one of the mildest violence scenes he could think of and managed not to trip or lose control even once. It wasn’t a hard test, but it was a start.

After a quick shower, he fell into bed, and for once didn’t think about anything else but sleep.

At breakfast the next morning, Luka’s legs felt like overstretched elastic, though he was pretty sure only Mairwen noticed. Haberville and DeBayaud were asleep, so it was just a quiet meal with Adams.

He’d awakened with a renewed determination to wrestle his talent into submission. He had to. He couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather do than use it to bring justice for the dead, which now included his friends.

He decided to use weightlifting as his physical distraction, and Mairwen thought it was worth trying. It wasn’t his preferred form of exercise, but he needed to give his legs a rest, and it was good to keep his upper body strength balanced. The position of the weight bench gave him a clear view of Mairwen on the treadmill, if need be. He no longer needed to see her for his talent to find her if she was close enough, but he liked watching her run. She made it look so effortless that he could almost believe counteracting gravity was one of her extraordinary skills.

His new method worked better than he’d hoped, especially considering yesterday’s disappointing results. He successfully called up two blood-drenched crime scenes and put them away again, and only lost rhythm a few times as he struggled to keep control. He didn’t have to focus his talent on Mairwen even once. Maybe he’d just needed the time away from it. He was cold as always, but a quick, hot shower made him feel better.

After a stop in the kitchen to consult with Adams on upcoming menus and food supplies, he retreated to his stateroom and spent some time working on the case. He’d been too wrapped up in wrestling with his talent, and not focusing on the real reason he was on the ship in the first place. The planetary exploration data was as sparse as Haberville had said, and the fact that it was five hundred years out of date didn’t instill confidence. If the planet was dead, as it was supposed to be, they wouldn’t even have to land, and they would have made the trip for nothing.

On the other hand, if the planet truly was a hybrid, there’d be no telling what they’d find. The pre-terraform native fauna and climate had been reported as jungle-like, but that vague description allowed for a lot of variation. If the hybrid mix of native and terraform life was viable, he almost hoped it
was
being exploited by a pharma company, because that would mean it wasn’t inimical to human life, and improved the odds his team could survive it long enough to get in and out with samples.

He was reviewing the contents of the specialized med kit when he was interrupted by a quiet knock on his door. It was DeBayaud.

“Morganthur says you should eat soon, before all the lunch stuff Adams made is gone.”

“Did she really?” It didn’t sound like her. Too many words.

“Well, not exactly. She just said you hadn’t eaten yet, and wouldn’t let me put the stuff away until you did.”

Luka looked at the time and saw it was mid-afternoon. Now that he thought about it, his stomach had been complaining for a while. He’d intended to work on his talent control again after lunch, but maybe it would be better to wait until after dinner for what he wanted to try.

He followed DeBayaud into the kitchen and made himself a quick sandwich, then helped DeBayaud store the rest of the food. He found Mairwen in her room, sitting in the far back corner of the platform, reading.

“Thanks for looking out for me,” he said, waving what was left of his sandwich at her. He sealed the stateroom door behind him.

“You’re welcome.” She closed her display. “How are your legs?”

He smiled ruefully. “Stiff. I’ll be better tomorrow.” He stayed near the doorway, mindful of not dropping crumbs on the carpet or her bed, and finished the last bite. “After dinner, I want to try…” He broke off, remembering they couldn’t speak openly. “
Svei því.
” Damn it.

With fluid movements, she stood and crossed to him, her body almost touching his, angled so he could speak quietly in her ear. He rested his hand on her lower back. The weave of her sweater was silky soft, and she was pleasantly warm.

“I want to try using a less violent reconstruction, and use only the memory of running instead of actually doing it.” He took a deep breath and released it. “I have to know if I can do it.”

She looked at him, then nodded. “This morning must have gone well. Your stateroom?”

He was relieved. He’d been afraid she’d think he wasn’t ready. “Yes, and yes.”

He had the answer to his question, but now he found himself reluctant to leave. “What are you reading?”

“The xenobiological sampling safety protocol. Even though we have a decon chamber, I’d prefer not to infect the ship.”

The
Berjalan
had been retrofitted with the decontamination chamber in front of the portal, but it wasn’t perfect. Careless procedure might mean both the personnel and the ship would have to be quarantined, which would be expensive and time-consuming. And in a worst-case scenario, fatal.

He smiled. “You’re admirably patient with reading the most boring things. I needed two cups of coffee to get through it.”

She shrugged. “I don’t sleep much.”

He slid his hand up her back to the nape of her neck, skirting around the knife she wore to stroke the edge of her soft blonde hair. “Vocational training?” he asked softly.

She shook her head minutely.

“Rewiring?” He kept his voice so low he barely heard it himself.

She nodded uneasily, her eyes on his.

Did she think he was bothered by what she was? He smiled and brushed her cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re amazing.” She relaxed and gave him a small smile back.

A little louder, he said, “Let’s talk after dinner.” He pulled away and left before his brain and his hormones could invent another excuse to keep him in her stateroom.

For the evening main course, he’d collaborated with Adams to serve lamb meatballs and mushrooms in a fragrantly spiced sour cream sauce over spinach-flavored pasta. As usual, Ta’foulou took his plate away with him to the nav pod. Haberville once again appointed herself social director, as if they were on an interstellar pleasure cruise.

“I love traveling, so it’s always interesting to hear where people grew up,” Haberville said as she unfolded her napkin. “I was raised on Helonne, in a melting-pot neighborhood. Opposite side of the planet from the famous glassworks. Where do you hail from, DeBayaud?”

He was sitting to her right, with Adams to her left. Luka was across from Mairwen, with one empty chair between them and the others.

“Lumentye Bashkonen. Third Wave. Kind of a backwater. Mostly known for having a lot of rivers. Big French and Belgian population.”

“I think I was there once,” she said. “Prime city is Moshra or something like that?”

“Moesia,” supplied DeBayaud with a smile, perhaps pleased to have something in common with her. He seemed very taken with her.

She turned to Adams. “What about you?”

“Lots of places, but ended up on Vaylamoinen. University Town.” He took a bite of green pasta.

Haberville nodded. “I had a conference there once, I think. Why a city of fourteen million is still called a town, I have no idea. I never saw so many bicycles in all my life.

“That’s the place,” agreed Adams.

“Foxe?” She smiled at him.

“Kaldur Fjall on Lumi Silta. Coldest city on the coldest planet in the Concordance. Lots of snow.”

Haberville gave a mock shiver. “I’ll bet you’re glad to live in Etonver, then.”

He nodded his agreement. He’d been happy to leave, and happier to never go back. Too cold, and too many bad memories.

“Morganthur? Where are you from?”

Luka was surprised when Mairwen answered. Usually she ignored Haberville’s prying. “Duau, on Waimaakole.”

“Never heard of it,” said Haberville. Her tone encouraged Mairwen to share more.

Mairwen shrugged, clearly not caring. A look of annoyance crossed Haberville’s face before she turned to ask DeBayaud for more water.

Mairwen’s answer had Luka wondering how she’d created her identity after escaping from the CPS. He remembered she’d said that memories of her childhood had been wiped clean. He couldn’t imagine how that would feel. He wouldn’t wish his childhood on anyone, but at least he could remember having one.