Dying For Space (Sunblinded Trilogy Book 2) Page 11

  However innocent or just plain ignorant Riona was where Rick’s tastes were concerned, she certainly knew how to handle cosmetics. By the time she’d finished repairing my eye make-up, it looked a deal better than my original efforts.

  When we returned to the office, the atmosphere was completely different. My eight other colleagues clustered around, introducing themselves. A motherly looking woman called Diana insisted that I should ask for her help whenever I needed it. Which put me in something of a black hole. Do I continue acting a complete wet-brain and maybe exasperate this nice lady? Or do I apparently become a whole lot smarter, tipping everyone off – especially Rick – that I was tugging Bernal’s airline? Any suggestions, Jessica? Seeing as this was your idea…

  Jessica chose this occasion to keep quiet.

  I finally decided to explain away my stellar improvement by muttering that Bernal had made me ‘very nervous’. My new work-mates greeted this comment with nothing but sympathy.

  At lunchtime, I began to see why Rick was so popular. Emerging from his office, he announced that he’d arranged a special lunch in my honour as an apology for my unfortunate welcome. He added, “It’s a real shame that Elizabeth tripped over poor Bernal’s sense of inferiority.”

  Pent silence greeted this comment.

  “And I’d like her to realise that we are one big happy family down here in Procurement.” The atmosphere brightened as everyone returned Rick’s beaming smile. “As one of the most overworked and under-appreciated parts of the Peace and Prosperity organisation, we pride ourselves on taking care of our own.” Everyone looked appropriately serious as his voice deepened and slowed, “In fact, I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that if we weren’t here, the whole organisation would grind to a halt within a day.”

  That’s just dross!

  No one else seemed to think Rick was spouting so much stale air, though. Heads were nodding in agreement.

  Is this just a team talk, or has Rick Kelbee got an eye on Norman’s job? I didn’t know. Promising myself to run some probability stats in my own time, based on the goods and ammo we had stockpiled, I determined to find out.

  Meanwhile, Rick Kelbee was ushering us towards the Procurement Canteen, where the smaller tables had been cleared away and a large round table was set for everyone to sit together. As the menu scrolled across our place settings, happy cries erupted around the table. It was evidently a departmental favourite. The meal consisted of an exquisitely cooked fish pie, steamed vegetables and a beautiful soft chocolate sponge that smelt and tasted like heaven. Rick proved to be an excellent host. While Norman could be an attentive and flattering listener, table talk revolved around what interested him and he quickly became irritable if the meal was held up in any way. And the atmosphere got tense if he raised his voice, which happened far too often for comfort. However, Rick Kelbee made a point of including everyone in the conversation. He had a fund of stories – some outright scurrilous – about the current holosim stars, which he swore were solid truth. Along with everyone else, I was rocking with laughter.

  As we drifted back to our workstations, pleasantly full of excellent food and mildly euphoric, Riona sighed. “It’s just like the good old days before Banal pitched up. These days, they normally lunch together in his office, or at Rick’s private table.”

  And she still hasn’t figured that Bernal is more than a favoured work colleague?

  During the afternoon, I ploughed through the dreary make-work task I’d been set, only bothering Diana once when I really was stuck. It transpired the stock item had been written off by mistake. Time dragged. For a start, sitting still for so long was a strain. My whole body felt twitchy. I found myself making trips to the Facilities just to stretch my legs. And the work was so boring it could’ve sent stars to sleep. So, when the klaxon blared for the end of the shift, I hastily closed my workstation and promised myself a long run, even if it was raining.

  “Elizabeth, I was wondering… Maybe you would like to share a cup of coffee with me before heading up?” Rick’s smile was warmly hospitable.

  “Of course, Mr Kelbee.” I waved enviously at my colleagues as they left.

  “You’re so lucky,” sighed Riona under her breath. “Tell me all about it in the morning, yeah?”

  You’re the one with all the luck. “Of course,” I whispered back

  However, sitting in Rick’s beautiful office and breathing in the scent of his arabica coffee, I had to admit to myself that there were worst places to be. And I’ve been there.

  I pushed away the sudden recollection of being trapped in a dark cellar with the smell of smoke…

  “I’d like to put my cards on the table, as it were,” Rick paused, eyebrows raised, evidently expecting some response.

  Need to pay attention, girl. He wants something.

  “Of course, Rick.”

  “It’s this business with Bernal.” Rick put his hand up, as if I was about to argue. “I’ll grant you that the boy was so way over the line of what is acceptable behaviour, there’s no point justifying it. However…”

  You’re going to justify it, anyhow.

  “You may have realised he is unpopular. Which is a strain on him. Because he is deeply sensitive.”

  Yeah, right. I took a large swallow of coffee to hide my disbelief.

  Rick was now in full flow. “Merc training didn’t agree with him. He’s a highly talented null-grav dancer, you know. But his father wanted him toughened up, so forced him to enlist. But seeing Bernal glide through his routine…” His face softened and his voice slowed, “It’s like watching poetry in physical form.”

  And he’s the light in your life and you’d die for him. My memory ambushed me so fast, I didn’t have time to defend myself.

  Wynn is walking towards me on Hawking. His blonde hair flares around his face as he strides towards me, Earth-blue eyes sparkling. I catch my breath at his beauty.

  I spilt my coffee. “Ow!” I frantically dabbed at the brown stain spreading across the front of my trousers, tear-blinded and shaking.

  Rick in no time at all produced a tub of powdered water and a couple of towels. After ten mins in the Facilities armed with these aids, I looked reasonably respectable. Rick Kelbee was hovering in the empty outer office as I emerged.

  “Are you alright, there? Oh yes, it hardly shows against the camo, does it? And is there any damage to your legs?” His smile seemed tense. “Let me escort you to the upper level. Just in case you are a bit shocked.”

  “Thank you.” I was touched at his evident concern.

  Probably wants to make sure that Norman’s daughter doesn’t come to harm on his watch.

  As it happens, Jessica was wrong. Kelbee wanted to accompany me to the upper levels because he hadn’t finished his pitch. Which he resumed once we were fastened into the speed-seats. “I’ve watched you around William. You’re desperate for his approval, aren’t you?”

  What can I say to that?

  His voice was smoother than a baby’s bottom, “Which I understand, having watched poor Elsbeth twist herself into knots trying to please William in much the same way. And I like you, you’re basically a sweet girl in a difficult situation.” He leaned closer, so I could hear him over the rattle and bang of the seats. “I can make sure that our Chief only hears good things about your work. Make any mistakes disappear.” His hand rested on my arm. “All I ask is that you give Bernal a second chance. Don’t judge him too harshly.”

  What he’s really asking is that you don’t tell Norman about his little friend.

  I’d already figured that out, thank you, Jessica!

  Rick broke off, suddenly peering at me, “Elizabeth? You’re not tipping into shock over that coffee spill, are you?”

  “No. It’s just that speed-seats twitch me a tad. Reminds me of the shuttle crash,” I replied, wishing it were more of a lie. “I’ll give Bernal a fair go if he cuts me some slack. But I’m more than tired of being shoved around, so if he goes on pushing he’l
l get it right back. Because, I don’t do soft. Not anymore.”

  Slam it shut, Lizzy! This man is dangerous. Even if you pity him for loving Bernal so much.

  He’s also good company and has gone out’ve his way to be kind to me, when he didn’t have to, in case you haven’t noticed, Jessica.

  “Sorry. Don’t know what’s gotten into me, recently. My temper seems to be fraying, somewhat.”

  “You should’ve seen your sister carry on when she lost it.” Rick’s smile faded. “You’re right, though. Losing your temper around here isn’t advisable. As Bernal has discovered.”

  “Rick, I’m not going to run to the General about Bernal’s shoddy comments.” I leaned closer. “Or anything else of a personal nature I might notice. Not now or ever.” Besides, I can’t believe he doesn’t already know about the affair between Rick and Bernal.

  Rick’s face blazed with relief. “Thank you, Elizabeth. I appreciate your restraint. In the circumstances, it’s more than generous.”

  “So long as what he says and does doesn’t damage the P’s,” I added, giving him my best stare. “But I make a bad enemy. Warn him.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Went for a run after work along our old route. The hill hasn’t got any flatter. But it looked...” I opened my mouth to tell him just how beautiful Restormel looked lit up in the gloom, before recalling that Romeo might never be fit enough to run there, or anywhere else. “Maybe you and I can walk it together when you’re better,” I muttered, conscious this one-sided conversation was limping badly.

  “Oh!” The girl stopped in the doorway, radiating hostility.

  I stood up, cravenly relieved at the interruption. “Good evening. I’ve come to pay my respects. We trained together.”

  “Oh…” The sigh gusted from her. Tears brimmed in her eyes as her gaze stroked him. “I come every day. But he’s just fading without a new heart.”

  “Aren’t they growing him one?” Though I regularly visited, I avoided discussing his case with any of the techs, after the last encounter.

  “They did an audit of his finances. He can’t afford it,” she said, tears spilling down her face.

  Wynn’s blue eyes are shut and they’ve cut off his legs… Swaying at the memory of the last time I saw him, I swallowed back my own grief. She’s crying enough for both of us. And it’s wrong to weep for Wynn at Romeo’s bedside. “Let me look into it.”

  A smile lit up her tear-blotched face. “Oh, I know they’d listen to you!”

  Way to go. And what if you can’t magic up a new heart for the poor sod?

  I was getting mighty tired of Jessica in scathe-mode.

  “Can’t promise anything. So please, don’t get your hopes up,” I stammered.

  Might as well have asked the stars to stop shining.

  “They keep telling me a load of old pondscum about how he’s given up. But I reckon they’re just trying to wriggle outta giving him a solid deal after one of their ape-brained space chimps went an’ shot him!” I caught a whiff of her minted breath as she leaned closer. “I hear it wasn’t no accident, neither.”

  Holed heavens, hope she’s not passing that info-nugget around! She’ll be thigh-high in her own grief if she does. I gave her a grin, hoping it looked better than it felt. “Wouldn’t give that bilge-babble too much weight. After being in the middle of a firefight and seeing how intense it gets, the wonder is there aren’t more FF’s.”

  She shrugged, evidently unwilling to let go of her own version of events. “You’ll get him a new heart, though?”

  “I’ll speak to some people about it. That’s all I can promise.”

  Her grin reappeared. “Word is, the General’d go space-walking inna nude to see you smile.”

  “That doesn’t always mean I get what I want, though.” My guts were churning. This flap-tongued girl goes blathering around Restormel that I’m getting Romeo a new heart, I’m going to be sucking on hard vacuum. I made my excuses and left.

  After my upsetting discussion with Romeo’s girlie, I needed something stronger than tea so headed for the Officer’s Mess. During our training, we got in the habit of decompressing in the area set aside for cadets. Of course, once we’d graduated we aspired to join in drinking with the fully qualified officers and though nearly all my former training comrades were now on active duty, I still regularly spent my downtime drinking there, occasionally joined by David.

  I’d ordered my habitual glass of house red and turned to scan the room, when a laugh rang out I instantly recognised from a group funnelling through the door. Irena! I rushed across towards her as they lined up at the bar. “Hey, look who it is! How’re you doing?”

  She turned around, her smile a tad too fixed. “Hey, Liz!” She turned back to the group she was snugged with, but I needed to fill her in about Romeo.

  So, I put an arm around her shoulders and steered her clear of the others crowding the bar. “C’mon lemme buy you a drink. I got some news.” I sigged to the girl behind the bar that I wanted serving before all these thirsty newcomers.

  “Okay.” Irena turned back to her companions. “Catch you in five.”

  Her obvious lack of enthusiasm at seeing me stung a bit, along with the fact that I only merited a handful of her precious minutes after all we’d been through together, but then I mentally shrugged as I ordered her drink. Irena never was Miss Tact. Still, she needed to know what was going on.

  “Romeo needs a new heart—”

  She rolled her eyes. “Really? We’ve just got back from two week’s solid misery on that hellhole Ceres, breaking up yet another fugee camp riot and burying two’ve our own – and you gonna break into my precious R & R with this slurry?”

  How dare she stand there, shrugging like it’s nothing while Romeo is dying by inches? “I had this stupid notion you’d be concerned! Clearly I was wrong.” I waved her away, sick to my marrow at her shoddy indifference. “Quickmarch back to your new bestest friends why don’t you?”

  “Hey.” A heavy hand thumped onto my shoulder. “Back off! We came in here for hard-earned R & R. Not to have our ears worn flat by some entitled Pees’ Princess who spends her days proning around Restormel in fancy ball gowns while the likes’ve us sweat blood an’ seed to keep you’s—ˮ

  I’m not taking this bilgecrud! Cold fury poured through me, leaving me pin-sharp and vibrating with the need to hurt someone. For Romeo. For Lester. For Wynn. And me – oh, for me… I spun round fast, knocking over our drinks and a barstool, as I drove my fist into the flap-mouthed merc’s solar plexus. He sank to his knees, gasping like a gaffed fish.

  While I danced clear, making space by kicking the nearest table over. Then grinning at Irena and her sodding friends. “C’mon, then. You need to teach this princess the full error of her soft-handed ways – you give it your best effort, why don’t you?”

  Three of them rushed me. Two women and one bloke. In fairness to them, they were evidently concerned not to inflict too much damage, whereas being so heavily outnumbered gave me more wriggle room. So in a flurry of blows as they closed, I managed to disable one of the girls by punching her nose. I aimed for the man’s bollocks, but he dodged free, managing to land a heavy blow to the side of my head. My ear singing high pain notes, my vision shivered as I fought to keep sharp. And failed sufficiently such that he wrapped his arm around my throat. I was still able to kick out at the other woman, my boot connecting nicely with her ribs.

  “Yield, you wet-brained hellion!” he gasped. “No way you can get out’ve this.”

  “Go bugger a black hole!” I twisted, jabbing at him with my elbows. Though it was like hitting a block of granite. Either the space-chimp was sporting the latest TufBone aug or he was body-armoured to the eyeballs. In normal circumstances, I would’ve probably given up at this stage as I was completely overmatched with nothing more than a basic BoneShield strengthener. But I was madder than a froth-mouthed star-crazer at Irena’s complete lack of concern over a brave, if foolhardy training-mate.
And actually enjoying myself.

  Or was it Jessica having all the fun? Yeah! You give ‘em grief, girl! Try kicking his leg out from under him, why don’t you? Left one, mind – he’s got his weight on it, while trying to get you to stop going at his ribs… She had her uses from time to time, did Jessica.

  I swung both feet off the ground, increasing the intensity of my jabs.

  “Watch her feet, Warren!” yelled Irena, proving exactly whose side she was on.

  But Warren either didn’t hear her, or was too slow on the uptake. So I managed to land a hefty, double-booted kick on his knee and TufBoned or not, he let out an ear-ringing roar, staggering like a drunken spacer. And as he flailed for balance, I shoved two fingers up his nostrils and held them there as he went down, unable to protect his head. Which connected with a thud on the floor, giving me a few free seconds to make my move. That was how I ended up kneeling on his chest, my fingers buried to the knuckles in his nose.

  His hand clamped around my wrist, he groaned as his eyelids fluttered open.

  Blood was dripping onto Warren’s uniform from a cut on my forehead, my ear felt on fire and I reckoned I’d probably dislocated my thumb. But I couldn’t stop grinning as I bounced hard enough to feel Warren’s ribcage bend, meeting his dazed eyes. “So here we are. Question is, Warren, can you crush my wrist before I rip your fat ol’ nose off your face?” I wriggled my fingers in his nostrils as he jerked and squealed in a panicked falsetto.

  “She’s madder’n a prodding deep-spacer,” someone said behind me.

  “And in case you still have me pegged for some soft-handed Pees’ princess, swear to God – I’ll tear Warren’s sodding nose off his mud-ugly face if any of you so much as flooding breathe near me!” I snarled, just in case someone was figuring to get all creative.