Solfleet: The Call of Duty (36 page)

Her lips
quivered and her eyes burned with rage as she glared right back at him, looking
as if she were about to scream. But she held her tongue. After all their years
of marriage, she obviously knew just how far she could push him—she’d had
plenty of practice, after all—and she’d just reached the limit.

After a moment
her features softened, if only a little, and she calmly asked, “Want some
coffee?”

He blinked,
looked at her oddly. Was that empathy that had found its way into her voice all
of the sudden? Surprising, and very much unexpected. Yelling at her and telling
her to shut up usually set her off on an rant or sent her stomping away in a
fit of anger, throwing whatever breakable objects might be within reach at that
moment as hard and as far as she could. But not this time. Why the difference?
Could it be that she, too, was finally getting tired of all the arguing? No, of
course not. She’d started it in the first place.

What had she
just asked? Did he want some coffee? He nodded. She turned her back and went
inside.

Dylan
stepped back from the railing and stretched out on one of their two chaise
lounges, rested his elbows on the arms, and covered his face with his hands.

No wonder
she was in such a foul mood. Despite her ill temper and her tendency to act
like he was little more than a bothersome inconvenience when he was home, she
really hated it when he went away for extended periods of time. And now, after
having just come home from two weeks in the field, he had to leave again
tomorrow morning.

But why did
she constantly have to act this way?

What was he
going to do about Marissa?

“Just great,”
he repeated.

He sat in
silence and waited for his coffee.

Karen rolled
onto her back and stretched her left arm across the width of the queen-sized
bed, but all she found between the warm cotton sheets was emptiness. Peering
through narrow crescents of dry, sleep-filled eyes, she focused on the pillow
beside her. The beige pillowcase appeared a dull, washed-out gray under the dim
blue-green glow of the headboard clock display, the dimple in its center lost
in shadow. It reminded her of a small hill not far from the barren, rocky
wasteland of Luna’s Sea of Tranquility—Apollo 11’s landing site—so bright where
the sun’s rays shone across its angled surfaces and so dark where they didn’t
reach. She’d spent hours hopping playfully about like a little school girl at recess
on that hill when she and Liz celebrated their thirteenth wedding anniversary at
the Mare Tranquillitatis Resort and Historical Park just last summer.

She rolled
onto her side and pulled the pillow to her, abandoning her own, and laid her
head in that place where her loving wife’s head had been. She closed her eyes
and inhaled deeply, finding comfort in the subtle yet sensuous bouquet of Liz’s
sweet perfume, even as a solitary tear flowed from the corner of her eye and
lost itself in the pillowcase.

Liz had been
so busy over the last few weeks since the ten days or so she’d spent working at
home, often working sixteen to eighteen hour days in order to catch up on
things. They rarely had dinner together anymore, and practically never went
out.

But last
night had been different. They’d enjoyed a wonderful evening of dining and
dancing together at the Officers’ Club’s semi-annual Friday night ball, and an
even more wonderful and exhausting night in bed. Karen smiled with the memory
of the passion they’d shared, but her smile quickly waned and more tears ran
from her eyes as she reminded herself that their wonderful and exhausting night
of passion was also the last night they were going to have together for at
least a month.

Liz had left
her alone before, of course. Many times over the years, in fact—sometimes for
several months at a time. Such was the life of a soldier’s spouse. But the
longer she and Liz were together, the deeper their love for one another grew,
so those long separations, though inevitable and unavoidable, never got any
easier.

She sighed,
and still more tears swelled the damp spot on the pillowcase. This newest long
period of loneliness was only just beginning, and she already missed her so
much. If only Liz had awakened her to see her off. Just to say good-bye.

Karen halted
in mid regret. Granted, Liz had had to catch an early flight, but it wasn’t
like her to leave without saying good-bye. It wasn’t like her at all. She hadn’t
done that since... Come to think of it, in all the years they’d been together she’d
never
done that. Not once. As a matter of fact, loving and considerate
wife that she was, she’d always gone out of her way to make sure she didn’t do
that. So maybe...

Karen looked
up and checked the time. The display showed 0553 hours. Relief poured into her
very soul like a sudden breath of fresh air into starving lungs and she dropped
her head back to the pillow and wiped the tears from her eyes. It was still
early. Liz hadn’t left yet.

She heard a
sound—a sound like that of a gentle spring rain. A seemingly distant, barely
perceivable whisper, existing almost solely on a subconscious level. A sound so
faint that it wasn’t until the sound suddenly stopped, trailing off with one
last, quiet spatter, that Karen realized she’d been hearing anything at all.

The shower
had been running.

She tossed
the cozy blankets aside, sat up, and dropped her feet to the soft, thick
carpet. The room felt comfortably warm and the sweet honeysuckle fragrance of
her favorite potpourri filled the air. “Lights,” she said, her usually melodic
voice sounding scratchy with its first use of the morning. The lights came up
to a third of their capacity, exactly as she’d programmed them to do with each
morning’s first activation, but she still had to drop her unfocused, waking
stare for a few seconds until she got used to the relative brightness.

The red
bikini panties she’d worn last night lay on the floor next to her feet, right
where Liz had dropped them. The sexy, sheer black lace panties Liz had worn
were there, too, and the matching bra lay just a few feet away from the bed.
The short trail of clothing ended just inside the bedroom door with their
stockings and the expensive new designer dresses they’d bought last week
specifically for last night’s ball.

She grinned
once more. It had indeed been one hell of a passionate night. Liz had looked so
beautiful.

She stood up
and reached for the ceiling, yawning and arching her back, her joints cracking
and popping as she stretched every muscle she possibly could. She ran her
fingers through her long, dark brown hair and gave her scalp a quick two-handed
scratch, then dropped her arms to her sides and strode to the bathroom.

A warm cloud
of honeysuckle-scented steam enveloped her as she opened the door to find Liz standing
naked on her side of the long rose-beige marble counter in front of the large mirror
brushing her shoulder-length hair, which shone like strands of platinum under
the bright white light bar that spanned the mirror’s width across its top. So
beautiful.

Leaving the door
open to let the steam escape, Karen walked up behind her, wrapped her arms
around her, and kissed the side of her neck, just below her ear. “Good morning,
beautiful,” she said.

Liz laid her
head back on Karen’s shoulder and kissed her tenderly. “Don’t get me started
again,” she warned.

“Why not?”
Karen asked, grinning mischievously.

“Because I
won’t want to stop, and I have to get ready to go.” Her disappointment and her
desire both were clearly evident in her tone.

“That’s
okay. I have to go, too.” Karen kissed her again, then stepped away and sat
down on the toilet. “Want some breakfast when you’re done?” she asked, gazing
wantonly at her wife’s beautiful body.

“No thanks,”
Liz answered as she resumed brushing her hair. “I’m not that hungry yet. I’ll
grab something later at the terminal or on the flight.”

“How can you
not be hungry?” Karen asked. “I’m starving.”

“You should
be starving. You hardly ate anything last night.”

Karen
grinned mischievously. “I was saving my appetite.”

Liz smiled
as well as she set her brush aside and started arranging her hair into one of
the freer, loosely clasped styles that Karen had always preferred over the
tight vertical roll in back that she usually wore when in uniform. “Well, next
time think about what you’re saving it for,” she suggested. “Some things simply
don’t fill you up.”

Karen
finished, pulled a tissue from the wall dispenser and patted herself dry, then
got up. As the toilet auto-flushed, she stepped over to her sink and washed and
dried her hands. Then she turned her back to the mirror and, moving a little
closer to Liz, leaned back against the edge of the counter. “I wish you didn’t
have to go,” she said as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts.

“So do I,”
Liz agreed, holding her hair in place just so with one hand to consider the
style’s acceptability in the mirror, “but I don’t really have a choice.”

“Are you
sure about that?”

Rejecting
that style, Liz let her hair fall free and dropped her hands to her sides. “We
talked about this at dinner last night, Karen,” she reminded her, staring at
her reflection and considering what style to try next.

“I know, I
know. The trip was your idea in the first place and it wouldn’t look very good
if you backed out of it now.”

“Exactly.”
Liz gazed into Karen’s beautiful but sad hazel eyes. “Hey,” she said, reaching
up and gently wiping a tear away from her cheek with her thumb. “I have to do
this, Karen, but that doesn’t mean I
want
to do it.”

“Then why
not make yourself too busy to leave and send someone else?”

“We did send
someone else,” Liz answered as she looked back into the mirror and started
working with her hair again. “Ensign Pillinger. Remember? I told you about him
at dinner.”

“Yeah, I
remember.”

“Then you
should also remember that I told you he didn’t do so well.” She pulled her hair
back from the sides and held it in place behind her head.

“That looks
nice,” Karen commented. “You should wear it that way.”

“You think
so?”

“Yeah. It’s
cute. Makes you look like a teenager again.”

Liz
snickered. “Yeah, right.”

She rooted
through the small glass bowl on the counter, selected two little white-gold
oval barrettes from among the various pins and bands, and pinned her hair in
place. Then she turned her head back and forth to the left and the right a
couple of times to double-check the results in the mirror. “That’ll work,” she
decided.

She looked
at Karen again. “Sweetheart, I don’t want to be away from you for the next
month any more than you want me to be,” she reassured her. “God knows I’m going
to miss you so much. But like I explained last night, there’s a very important
mission in the works and the admiral and I feel it’s vital that we get the
right person for the job.”

“That Marine
Corps sergeant you told me about?”

“That’s
right, yeah,” Liz answered with a nod.

“And you’re
taking a commercial flight?”

“With a
military escort at the other end, yes. That’s why I’m wearing civilian clothes,
to draw as little attention to myself as possible.” Liz began to see the wheels
turning in her wife’s mind. “Why do you ask?” she inquired, suspecting she
already knew the answer.

Karen’s gaze
fell to Liz’s ample breasts while she considered whether or not to ask the
question that had popped into her head. They were so perfect, as firm and round
as they had been the first time she saw them when they were teenagers, with
nipples the color of pink carnations.

“Karen?
Hello?”

“I was just
thinking,” she finally said, snapping out of it. She looked up again, her eyes
pleading even before she spoke. “Any chance I could come with you?”

Liz smiled. “Believe
me, if I could take you with me I would. But this trip is classified, so I can’t.
Hell, I’ve already told you more than I should have.”

At that,
Karen smiled, too. “My dear, you
always
tell me a lot more than you
should,” she humorously pointed out.

“Yes, I
know. It’ll be my downfall one day.”

“Nonsense. I’ve
never repeated anything to anyone.”

“I know, but
that’s not the point.”

“Then what
is the point?”

“The point
is, if I take you with me Admiral Hansen will assume I’ve compromised the
secrecy of my mission. Rightfully so, too. He’ll pull me off that flight so
fast it’ll make my head spin, which will make it easier for him to rip it off
my shoulders afterwards. This mission, not to mention my career, is just too
important for me to allow that to happen. I’m sorry.”

With a
slight shrug of her shoulders and a smile to let Liz know that she wasn’t too
badly disappointed—she hadn’t really expected her to let her go along anyway—Karen
said, “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Of course not,”
Liz agreed, smiling back.

They gazed
at each other for another moment. Then, as Karen started to cry again, Liz took
her into her arms and hugged her close. “I’ll be back before you know it,” she
whispered.

“Wanna bet?”

Liz grinned.
“Try not to hound the admiral too much.”

Karen
sniffed. “I won’t.”

They relaxed
their embrace and gazed into one another’s eyes again, then kissed. A long and
passionate kiss, it could easily have led to something more if Liz had had more
time. But, unfortunately, she didn’t.

“I really do
have to get ready,” she said.

Reluctantly,
Karen let her go. “Behave yourself out there,” she said.

“Yes,
mother.” Liz kissed her again as she grabbed a dry towel off the rack attached
to the side of the counter, then left the bathroom.