These Broken Stars Part 17

Then it comes to me like a splash of cold water in the face, quick and shocking, robbing me of breath. You're dead.

"Hey, no need to rub it in." Alec grins easily. "Happens to the best of us, T."

I concentrate for a moment, waiting for the shakes, the metallic taste in the back of my throat, the whispers across my skin. But my hands are steady. You're not a vision.

"No, I'm all you. You're delirious. Which means I get an afterlife for a while. I've got to tell you, I was antic.i.p.ating worse. I can live with this. No pun intended."

That was dreadful.

"You missed it, though."

Yes. Every day.

"I'm sorry I left, T. I didn't mean to. What is this place?"

No idea. Abandoned planet.

"Abandoned? After all the money to germinate the terraforming? What the h.e.l.l kind of thing causes them to pack up and leave?"

No idea, but something's up. Lilac thinks some kind of life-form is trying to communicate with us. No ill intent so far. Maybe they're harmless.

"Doesn't seem likely, T."

Doesn't, does it? Can't point that out to her. The corporations aren't the kind of guys to cut and run just because they accidentally set up camp in somebody else's living room.

"Hmm. What about the girl? She has seriously great legs."

I noticed.

"You hold her at night. That must be fun."

I've been trying not to notice.

"Ha. I'd sympathize, except that I can't touch her at all."

Nor can I, really. She's the kind that turns me down when they find out who I am.

"Well, T, if you ever wanted to take a run at it, I'd say now's your time. There's hardly any compet.i.tion, unless you count me. Though I am of course very handsome, even dead."

No. She turned me down when she could. I know what she thinks of me. Don't really want to try again just because she's out of options.

"Is that what you really think?"

No.

"Safer, though, yes?"

Much.

"So what will you do?"

No idea.

"You're thinking that a lot lately, T. I've never heard it from you before, not once. When did you learn those two words?"

When the infallible s.p.a.celiner her father built came crashing down through atmo. When Lilac started seeing the future, when Mom and Dad's house appeared in a valley halfway across the galaxy. No idea about a lot of things, now.

"You should kiss her. It looks like it would be fun."

Wait, what? Right, Alec. So what happens after this magical kiss?

"Who cares about after? You could die tomorrow, you don't think you should kiss her today?"

Perhaps I shouldn't kiss her today because I could die tomorrow.

"Boring. Also, illogical."

I'm delirious and hallucinating, now you want logic?

"I have only the highest standards for you, T. If you won't kiss her, have you at least written her one of your poems?"

Are you joking?

"You have, then. You just haven't shown them to her."

No. She likes Mom's.

"So yours wouldn't be up to scratch?"

Something like that.

"Rubbish."

Mmm.

"Mmm."

Alec?

"Yes, T?"

What do I do now?

"Keep trying. You have to get back to them. They can't lose us both."

I never really thought they would. I don't know why. I've nearly died a lot of times.

"I never thought they'd lose one son. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other, T. I know you can. You always do."

I look across at him, drinking in his familiar face, smiling, no older than he was when he died, watching over me with the same indulgent affection that allowed me to trail up hills and down mountains after him at home.

Don't go yet.

"I'll stay while you sleep."

I know something's changed when I open my eyes. My eyelids aren't heavy, and the sunlight doesn't burn. I suck in a breath through my nose, bracing myself to move, but when I shift my weight, it's easier. I know all this is different, but I can't put my finger on why.

I blink again, and when I try focusing my gaze, I find Lilac pa.s.sed out beside me. When I clear my throat, she jerks awake, reaching out without opening her eyes to fumble for my wrist and check my pulse. Then she shoves up on one elbow to reach for my forehead, her own eyes still closed.

I see the moment she realizes my skin's cooler, and her eyes snap open as she stares down at me.

"'Morning." My voice is a croak. I reach up to brush my fingertips against her cheek. Her face is streaked with dirt, smudged where she's been sweating, and there's a dark bruise across her other cheek. Her eyes are red with exhaustion, purple circles marking the skin beneath them. I can't even see now where her black eye from our crash landing was.

"Tarver." It's more a question than a statement.

"I think so," I whisper. "What the h.e.l.l...?"

"You've been sick." She can't take her eyes off my face. She reaches for the canteen without looking at it and holds it up to my lips with practiced hands-but when would she have practiced this?-and I take a careful sip.

"How long?" My whisper's a little clearer now. She looks appalling. There's grime all over her blue shirt, and a brownish-red stain where she's wiped her hands clean.

But didn't she pick out that shirt from the laundry the day before yesterday? I thought it was clean when we went to bed.

"Three days." It's her turn for a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

I feel like the air's gone out of me. "Are you okay? Anyone around?"

"No," she whispers, soft and raw. "Just me."

I don't know what to say. We stare at each other as seconds go by, my head swimming, her breathing slow, carefully controlled, that ragged edge held at bay. Hanging on by a thread.

Then her lips press together in a thin, firm line, and I see her take herself in hand. "I've got aspirin, and a ration bar for you," she says, suddenly purposeful. "I found antibiotics in the ship, in the sick bay. That's what made the difference." When she moves to haul herself to her feet, I see her exhaustion-it's there in the way she reaches out with one hand for balance, wobbles as she stands, bites her lip too hard.

I lift my head as she walks away, ignoring the momentary dizziness so I can get a look at our little nest. Our supplies have multiplied. I don't get a chance to see much more than that before she returns, peeling a ration bar out of its wrapper, watching my every movement-however small-with an unnerving intensity. She's almost possessive, the way she kneels down beside me to help me sit up, and holds the bar so I can reach out with my good hand to break off a piece.

It tastes delicious. G.o.d, I really must be dying.

Dying. Alec. The faces of my parents, a girl I dated on Avon. I remember...what do I remember?

I push that thought aside, and as she reaches for the canteen so I can take the aspirin, we're staring at each other again. I'm moving before I recognize the impulse. I ease my good arm away from my body, holding it out in a silent invitation, and after a moment she settles against my side and buries her face against my shoulder. A shudder runs through her, but she doesn't break down.

"You saved my life," I murmur. "Again."

"I had to. I wouldn't last a day around here without you." Her whisper's almost inaudible. Her arm snakes across my chest to rest over my heart.

"You lasted at least three, by the sound of it." While she's not looking I lift up my bandaged hand. My fingers aren't as puffy, and I find that when I wriggle them a little, there's no pain. The bandages look clean. "Did you wrap my hand up?"

"Mmm. You didn't like it much. You have the foulest mouth I've ever encountered, Major. I didn't even recognize half the languages you can swear in. I'm glad I'm not one of your soldiers. Still, it was rather educational."

"Been posted to too many places. You pick stuff up from the locals, wherever the old cultures have survived." I reach up to trace her hairline with my uninjured hand. "But if you're telling me you understood any of it, Miss LaRoux, I'm going to reevaluate my opinion of you."

"Well, the context helped."

We're quiet for a little, and I smooth down her hair with my good hand. She turns her head a little in response, and I see that bruise standing out on her cheek again, livid against her fair skin. I can actually see the faint imprint of knuckles there against her skin.

I'm the only one around here who could have done it. I swallow down the sick guilt that comes with that knowledge, and concentrate on something else. "Have the whispers shown up? I remember a lot of things that don't seem right, unless we did visit a restaurant, and you're holding out on me. I can't tell whether it was a fever, or visions."

"The fever, I think." She hesitates, eyes flicking from me to the fire, as though seeing something I can't. I want to press her, ask her what she's seen, but then she shakes her head. "I haven't seen anything since the valley, and your parents' house. You did, though. You called me all sorts of different people. I never realized how nice it was when you just called me Lilac."

"Lilac?" I smooth down her hair again as she settles closer. I don't want her to move. "I'd never be so familiar, Miss LaRoux. It would be highly inappropriate. I know my place, and apparently it's swearing up a storm at you, hallucinating wildly. My mother would be so proud."

"Inappropriate," she murmurs, that raw edge to her voice finally softening. She sounds amused, leaning into my hand where it rests against her hair. "When the cavalry comes, I hope it's not at night. Imagine what they'd think of this."

Yes, imagine. What a silly thought, that a girl like you would look at a guy like me. I'm a fool, lying here and holding her. This girl who, under any other circ.u.mstances, never would've given a guy like me a second glance.

"I have to move, tomorrow." My body resists the very thought, limbs turning to lead.

"Like h.e.l.l you're moving," she replies, quick and sharp. There's a steel there I haven't heard since the early days of our stay here. "We're staying put. I'll go back into the ship and see what I can find."

There's something in her voice as she says it, a high note, full of tension. It makes me look at her again.

"We can both go in together tomorrow, or the next day at worst."

She shifts and sits up, shaking her head, chewing on her lip again. I want a little to reach after her, and pull her back down next to me. "It's-not good in there. A few more days and I don't think you'd be able to spend much time inside without getting ill."

"What's in there, Lilac?" But the answer's settling in the pit of my stomach even as I'm asking the question.

"It's-you know, there's no power or anything. Everything's gone bad, rotting." She barely gets that word out before she cuts herself off, jaw clenching as she shuts her eyes. Her freckles stand out against the whiteness of her skin.

That knot in my stomach was right. Not everyone made it off the ship. "You can't go back in there, Lilac. Whatever you brought out, we have enough."

"Stop it." It's a strained whisper. "I'd have been eaten our second day here if it wasn't for you. Time for me to even the scales. I won't be long."

"You've already done that." I reach for her hand to wrap mine around it. "You saved us both, hot-wiring the escape pod. Let's just stop trying to keep track of who's saved who."

"Tarver, you're making it harder." Her eyes are squeezed shut now. "It's dark in there, and cold, and it's more silent than s.p.a.ce itself, and being here with you is none of those things. But there are things we need in there. If I were the one who was sick-" I can see the wetness along her lashes, but she refuses to blink and let the tears roll down her cheeks. What happened to her in that ship?

I breathe out slowly and try to inject some calm into my voice, even though all I want to do is hold on to her so tightly she has to give up the idea of going back in there alone. "I wouldn't go in there. It's a pretty simple risk-reward a.n.a.lysis. Sure, there are things in there it would be good to have. What's better is to have two people functioning. What's worst of all is to have both of us down for the count. We need to be well more than we need more clothes or food."

Slowly, reluctantly, she begins to ease down beside me again, then stops. She draws the Gleidel out from the back of her waistband, offering the gun to me grip first. "I suppose I ought to give this back now. You should teach me how to use it, though. I wouldn't have known what to do with it."

It's a jolt to realize I was so sick I didn't even miss it. "You want to learn to use the gun?" I ask, setting it down beside me within reach and easing my arm around her once more. "Maybe when I'm a little better, and I can run to a safe distance."

"Come on, now." She pokes me in the ribs. "You know I run faster than you. So you'll do it?"

"After you've pointed out you're fast enough to hunt me down and shoot me when I upset you?" I tighten my arm around her and turn my head to tuck her under my chin.

"I'm stubborn," she warns as she closes her eyes. "Don't think you can just wait until morning and hope I'll forget."