Lee Shores Page 3

  Her eyes widened, and a moment too late I realized I’d used the l-word. We hadn’t crossed that bridge yet.

  Except, now we had. “You love me?” she repeated, and her voice shook a little.

  “Are you surprised?” I didn’t know how she could be. She’d been my world for these last months. Could she doubt how much I cared for her?

  “I…maybe a little.”

  “Oh.”

  We stayed there, side by side on the bed, for a minute. I felt every moment of her silence, and the absence of her own “I love you,” like a weight on my lungs.

  I’d spoken too soon. I swallowed. “Well,” I said, “I should go take that shower. Think about coming with us, Mags.”

  She murmured that she would, and I fled back to the bathroom. My last glimpse of her showed her still seated on the edge of the bed with a dazed expression on her face.

  God, I’m a fuck up. I knew Maggie well enough to know I shouldn’t have said that. Her heart had been bruised before and it made her cautious, careful, now. I shouldn’t have mentioned the l-word. She wasn’t ready.

  I turned on the water and slipped off my pajamas. I allowed myself a long sigh, now that the masking flow of water sounded. The fact was, I did love her. Whether she was ready to hear it or not, I loved her. And I’d keep loving her – in silence if necessary, for as long as she needed.

  “Kay?”

  Maggie’s voice sounded behind me, and I started. I hadn’t heard her come in. “Mags?” I asked.

  She wrapped me in a hug as I turned to her, bringing her lips to mine with an urgency that surprised me. A minute ago, she’d been stunned into silence on the bed. Now, she was pressing me into the wall, tracing her hands up and down me as she covered me in breathless kisses.

  Not that I was complaining, of course. The feel of her fingertips on my skin, her tongue in my mouth, filled me with a warmth that almost drove away thoughts of my own blunder.

  In a moment, she pulled back, panting, so that we stood eye-to-eye.

  “What was that about, Mags?” I wondered.

  “I love you too, Katherine.”

  It was my turn to be stunned. “You do?”

  She nodded. “And I keep wondering when I’m going to wake up and find this has all been a dream. Or when I’m going to fuck it up, and drive you away.”

  “Oh Mags.” Her words cut with an almost physical pain. “I’m not going anywhere, babe.”

  She kissed me again, slower, more tenderly this time, pressing her body into mine with a soft, hungry rhythm. Her hands followed the same paths up my body that she’d followed a hundred times, but my skin screamed with anticipation like it was the first.

  When her lips left mine and moved to my neck, I moaned. “Let me shut this off. The shower can wait.” Mess hall could wait; engineering could wait; hell, Armageddon itself would have to wait if it came calling right now. Because, right now, I had nothing but loving Maggie on my mind.

  She paused, her breath hot against my skin, to smile impishly up at me. “I was thinking about joining you.”

  “That works too,” I grinned.

  Chapter Four

  The last stragglers were just finishing breakfast when we reached the mess hall, and the already slim pickings were a little slimmer than usual. David eyed us with curiosity from the galley. “Running a little late, Captain?”

  Maggie shook her head, her eyes twinkling. “Of course not. You know me, Dave. Just keeping everyone on their toes. Never let them know what to expect.”

  “Mhm.”

  We ignored the skepticism in his tone and headed to one of the empty tables with our plates of flavorless, reconstituted scrambled eggs in tow. “Well,” she said after we’d settled in, “Frank must already be on the bridge. But when I see him, I’ll tell him to expect us both.”

  I took her hand across the table, my heart dancing at the news. “Thanks, babe. We’ll have a great time. I know it.”

  She smiled at me. “I know it too, Kay. I’m with the woman I love: how could it be anything else?”

  We sat there for a moment, hand in hand, eyes locked. My heart quivered in my chest, and I could hear my own pulse thundering in my ears. Damn, but I loved her.

  The moment was abruptly interrupted by Dave’s voice. “Alright, cut the mushy crap. I don’t want to lose my appetite right before I eat.”

  I started at the nearness of it, and glanced up to see with some dismay that he was standing at our table, pulling out a seat to join us. “Uh…hi, Dave.”

  He turned a sour look my way. Apparently, I was still in the doghouse from the Sydney business the day before. “How are your eggs, Katherine?”

  It sounded like a trick question. I proceeded with caution. “Well, I can taste that they’re reconstituted. So, considering, they’re pretty good.”

  He frowned at me. “They’re rubbery, tasteless and over salted.” The tension in his forehead relaxed, though, as he shrugged, “Which, for reconstituted eggs, is pretty good.”

  Apparently, I’d passed whatever test this had been. “So,” I said, eager to change the topic, “you coming to Kudar with us?”

  He wrinkled his nose, the frown settling back into place only seconds after it had vanished. “Do you even have to ask, Katherine?”

  Maggie shrugged. “Why not, Dave? It’ll be fun.”

  His eyebrows made a beeline for his hairline. “Fun? To visit a planet full of Franks?”

  I laughed at the sheer incredulity in his tone. “What is your beef with Frank, anyway?”

  “I don’t have a beef with him. He’s just annoying. His sense of humor’s abysmal, and he needs to eat five times what most other humanoids do. Which means more cooking for me.” Then, he added, “And if we were ever shipwrecked somewhere, he’d probably survive by eating the whole crew.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was joking, or if he meant it. Maggie, though, frowned. “Come on, Dave. Don’t say stuff like that. Frank’s one of the nicest guys onboard.”

  Dave snorted skeptically. I asked, “Have you ever been to Kudar?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then how do you know you won’t like it?”

  “One word, Katherine: Frank.”

  “O…kay.”

  “Anyway…and this, actually, is why I’m here, Captain: I think it right to inform you that I’m going to be looking for new employment opportunities.”

  We were both stunned, I think. “What?” Maggie said. “You mean, you’re leaving the Black Flag, Dave?”

  He nodded. “As soon as I find another position, yes.”

  “But…why?”

  He turned reproachful eyes to her. “I think you know.”

  “I don’t,” she said. “Is it because – well, because we picked up Sydney’s grocery list the other day?”

  His expression darkened. “No, although you raise a good point. I’m leaving because I’m no longer wanted.”

  “Hell, Dave,” I said. “Of course you’re wanted. I know we can be jerks sometimes about your cooking, but we love you.”

  He surveyed me with an expression that was half injury, half scowl. “You demonstrated that a robot – a robot – could replace me yesterday, Kay. If that’s love, well, I want no part of it.”

  “That wasn’t what we were demonstrating,” I protested. “And it wasn’t my idea. Syd wanted to try his hand in the kitchen.”

  “He doesn’t have hands,” he declared. “Not one of his grotesque appendages is a hand. And he’s a robot. You could easily have said ‘no’.”

  “It’s not easy, Dave. He really had his heart set on it.”

  “He doesn’t have-”

  “A heart, I know. But you know what I mean. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.”

  “He’s a bucket of bolts. A bucket of bolts doesn’t have feelings, so it can’t have them hurt.”

  “His emotional response algorithms are actually quite advanced,” I corrected. “And they’re self-expanding. And he does get hurt feelings.”
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  Maggie shook her head. “Oddly enough, Dave, and as ridiculous as it sounds, I’m going to have to side with Kay on this one: that robot sulked for half a day the other week when Kay forgot to say good morning.”

  The cook stared at her. “Robots don’t have feelings.”

  “I’m telling you,” Maggie insisted, “this one does. I don’t know how. But it does.”

  “Forgive me, Captain, but I believe you are too close to the situation to be objective. The robot is Kay’s, and she is attached to it; Kay is your girlfriend, and you’re attached to her.” He shrugged, as if the conclusion was foregone.

  “I can still be objective, Dave. Believe me, I was as skeptical as you.”

  He raised an eyebrow that indicated his disagreement. “At any rate, it doesn’t change my point.”

  She nodded. “Alright. Would it help if we kept Sydney out of the kitchen, unless you specifically requested him?”

  He considered for a moment, then shook his head. “No. An empty gesture doesn’t negate the fact: the crew would rather I was replaced by a robot.”

  “Dammit, Dave,” I said, “that’s not true. You bring a lot more to the crew than just your cooking.”

  He snorted. “If you’re about to tell me you’ll miss my winning personality, Katherine Ellis, let’s neither of us bullshit ourselves.”

  In the end, nothing we could say, no apologies we could make, would dissuade Dave. He was going to try to find another ship when he reached Trella Prime, and that was that. Once we realized that he wasn’t going to change his mind, Maggie accepted it with good grace. “We’ll sure as hell miss you, Dave.”

  He’d only snorted, informing her that there was no sense lying to him.

  I spent the morning in engineering, going through the mind-numbingly boring task of sifting through diagnostic readouts; and all the while I wondered if this was my fault. Syd had had his heart – his mechanical heart – set on trying out in the kitchens. But maybe, my mind argued, I could have changed his mind, if I’d tried harder.

  The truth was, I didn’t try as hard as I could have, because I wanted an alternative to Dave’s cooking as much as anyone else on board. Only now, it seemed, we’d have no choice in the matter. The cantankerous, ill-mannered, oversharing cook was leaving.

  And, dammit, it bothered me. Our crew was something of a family, and – warts and all – I appreciated them all. The fact that Dave’s primary function onboard was also what he was probably worst at just added to the Flag’s signature chaotic vibe. I wouldn’t miss his cooking, but I’d miss him.

  Chapter Five

  We reached Trella Prime a few days later. Dave hadn’t changed his mind. For awhile, I’d held out hope that the groveling of the crew as the news spread might persuade him to reconsider.

  It did not. He disembarked with a particularly full bag, saying, “I’ll keep you informed, Captain. If you need to drop my stuff off somewhere, I’ll let you know.”

  Ginny and Fredricks got off on Trella Prime, too. They’d booked passage from there to their stop offs. And, she’d told me in a whisper, “When I see you next, hopefully he will have said yes.”

  One by one, the crew complement dwindled. By time we reached our last stop, we were down to five: me, Mags, Frank, Max and Sydney. And after Max disembarked, the ship felt like a ghost town more than the home I’d known these past months.

  Maggie felt it too. “I hate seeing the Black Flag this empty,” she confided.

  “It’s just for a little while, babe.”

  “I know. Still…it feels wrong.”

  Frank and Sydney, of the four of us, seemed unaffected. Frank was his usual gregarious self. He’d already decided that the summons was good news. “I got another message from my mother,” he told me a few days after the first. “She was checking to see that I still had my keltar.”

  “What’s a keltar?”

  “A kind of suit, traditional to my people: formal wear.”

  “Ah. Do you?”

  “Of course. A Kudarian never leaves the home world without one. If you die off Kudar, you must be buried in the keltar for your spirit to find its way home.”

  “Oh.”

  “Anyway,” he confided, “I don’t believe that, but my mother does. And knowing that I travel with a keltar keeps her from worrying. And by worrying, I mean phoning me all the time, trying to get me to come home.”

  I laughed. “So what’s up with the keltar now? Why do you have to wear it?”

  “Well, that’s the good news. It means one of two things: either someone died, or someone’s getting married.”

  I blinked. “That’s a fifty percent chance of really shitty news, Frank.”

  He shrugged. “Not really. If there was a death in the family – at least, if it was someone we were close to – she would have told me.”

  “Ahh…so, that means, it’s a wedding.”

  He grinned. “Exactly. Or an enemy’s death. Either way, cause to celebrate.”

  I ignored this last comment. I couldn’t imagine Frank having enemies, anymore than I could see the Kudarian celebrating someone’s death. “Whose wedding, though?”

  “Probably my sister’s, F’riya arn inkaya.”

  “Why not tell you, then?”

  “It’s her news to tell. And good news is best given in person, so the gods can share the moment.”

  “Your gods don’t use video chat?” I teased.

  “My gods are homebodies. They don’t leave our planets,” he informed me sagely. “So if you tell someone off world, they can’t share in their joy.”

  “Ah,” I grinned.

  “It all makes sense, Katherine, if you don’t think about it too long.”

  I laughed. “But, I mean, that’s awesome: your sister’s getting married.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to have to act surprised, of course. And I will be, if it’s to anyone but Ger ark britya.” He shrugged. “They’ve been sweethearts since they were kids. It’s about time they tied the knot.”

  For his part, Sydney viewed the tiny crew complement as an opportunity to put his services to even broader use. He’d already picked up Dave’s job. “I am also well-equipped to handle tactical situations, Katherine,” he’d told me. “You will recall, before my transition into a less bloody line of work, I was a battle bot.”

  “I remember,” I nodded. “Still, that’s a lot of responsibility. And hopefully we won’t run into any trouble. We’re in Union space, after all.”

  “Of course. I only mean that you should know that I’m ready to serve, whenever the need arises.”

  “Thanks, Syd.”

  “It is my pleasure, Katherine.”

  It was when he overheard Maggie talking about dropping the ship off for repairs that he hit upon his true masterpiece, though. “Magdalene, I could pilot the ship to your destination, once you are safely on Kudar.”

  To my mind, this was a good idea. It meant less back and forth for us – and, consequently, more free time. As far as Mags was concerned, it was a risk she wasn’t willing to take. “I’m not entrusting my ship to a robot,” she’d told me.

  “Come on, love,” I said. “Sydney can perform how many trillions of computations a second? He’s more than capable of docking a ship at pre-determined coordinates.”

  It had taken some persuading, but, eventually, she gave in. Sydney was thrilled. “I am humbled by your faith in me. I will not fail you, Captain Magdalene.”

  I was no less thrilled. It meant extra days with Maggie, all to myself.

  “I just hope he doesn’t run into trouble,” she sighed. “What if something breaks, or he meets a hostile ship? Pirates or something? There’s only one of him after all.”

  “One Sydney is going to be more adept at keeping a ship in the air than a pair of humans, if things go south,” I observed. She scoffed, but I persisted, “You know it’s true. And as for hostile ships, we’re in the middle of Union space. If he runs into pirates here, there’s bigger problems af
oot.”

  She sighed. “Fine, fine. I already said yes.”

  I kissed her cheek, agreeing, “That’s true. So if you want to worry, well, far be it from me to get in the way of your pity party.”

  She grinned at me, her green eyes twinkling. “That’s right. And don’t you forget it, Katherine Ellis.”

  “So,” Frank was telling us over a mid-morning latte – another specialty Sydney managed to perfect – “I told my mom I was bringing some friends from my ship.”

  I nodded. He’d told us this days ago. “Right.”

  “Somehow, she thought I meant Kudarian friends.”

  “Oh boy.”

  “It’s not going to be a problem, is it?” Maggie wondered. “I mean, I don’t want to be an imposition. If it’d be easier for us to stay at a hotel-”

  He shook his head adamantly. “No, it’s no imposition. I just don’t think mom realizes how few Kudarians there are off-world. Anyway, I explained it to her. And it’s good.”

  “You sure?” His eyes were doggedly fixed on his mug, and that as much as anything else made me suspicious. “Come on, Frank: level with us. If it’s going to cause problems, we can adjust our plans.”

  He shook his head again. “It’s not a problem, Kay. She was – well, a little surprised.”

  “How surprised?” Maggie wondered, crossing her arms.

  He grinned. “Well, I got a lecture about trusting humans. Via text message no less.” He pulled up his communicator, then nodded. “One hundred and fifty-eight texts worth of lecture, in fact.”

  I laughed. “Oh hell.”

  “Yeah. Look, she’s good with it now. I explained you guys were good friends, that I’d trust you with my life. But…” He trailed off, shrugging awkwardly.

  “But?” Maggie prompted.

  I braced as he sighed.

  “Could you bring formal wear?”

  “Formal wear?” That was significantly less bad than I’d feared. “Is that all?”

  He nodded. “I know you hate dresses, Captain. But if you could – just for the engagement party, the first night…”