Captain Cosette (25 page)

The road wove through the dark green trees and past some ramshackle homesteads. 
A dirt path cut away from the road, crossed a stream, and arrived at a clearing in front of her house.

Dyson landed the flyer and cut the engines.  He opened the hatch and helped Cosette climb down.  She stared at the house that had been her home. 

“It’s small,” she said.  “I don’t remember it being that small.”

The roof was made of patched wooden shakes, and peeling brown paint covered the outside walls.  One of the posts holding up the front porch had been replaced with a metal jack.

Cosette straightened her uniform.  She was in her finest, with a disruptor pistol holstered on her web belt.  She had done what she could to look military and efficient, but being back at her old home made her feel young and vulnerable again.

Your body is young, but you are older than your body, a woman’s voice murmured inside her.  We will always be with you.

She lifted her chin. 

“
I don’t see anyone,” said Major Dyson.  “Should I knock on the door?” 

“
No.  It’s… not clean inside.  Come around back.  They might be out tending the vineyard.”

As they walked around the corner of the house Auguste appeared, with Lucas and Claude trotting behind.

Auguste was unshaven and sweaty, his workpants held up by a pair of leather suspenders.  Lucas and Claude’s dark curly hair was dusty from the fields, and their patched work clothes were stained with sweat.  They stopped and looked at Cosette, Dyson, and Rasora with suspicion.  “What do you want?” Auguste asked.  “What are you doing here?”

Good
old
Auguste
,
rude
as
usual
.

Cosette took a deep breath, her heart pounding. 
“I came to visit my property.  I’m going to show my friends the fields.”

Auguste stepped back and stared at her, his eyes narrowed. 
“Cosette?”

“
Yes, Father Auguste.  It’s me.”

“
But…”  He blinked and looked at her closer.  “You went off to war.”

“
We won the battle and took back this planet.  Now I’m back.”

Lucas and Claude looked at each other, the way they always did before starting a fight.  Cosette held still, conscious of the gun on her hip and Major Dyson and Rasora beside her.  Rasora pulled a large knife from his waist and casually began to clean non-existent dirt from under a fingernail.

“But the farm is mine now,” said Auguste.  “You’re just a soldier.”

The fear she had felt began to dissipate.  Auguste had whipped her and his sons had harassed her, but never again.  They would never have the chance to torment her again. 
“I didn’t transfer the property to you.  You just assumed I wouldn’t be coming back.  Shall we go down to Toulouse and check the records?”

Auguste growled and shook his head. 

Lucas cursed and pointed a dirty finger at Cosette.  “You can’t come back here and take our farm away.  You never did a decent day’s work while you were here and if you think…”

Cosette casually let her hand rest on the butt of her gun.

Auguste raised his hand in front of Lucas, stopping him.  “Shut your mouth, Luke.  They’re armed.”

“
Now if you don’t mind,” said Cosette, “I’d like to show my friends the vines.”

Auguste opened and closed his mouth but couldn’t come up with anything to say.  He turned and pushed his sons against the house, and Cosette led Dyson and Rasora around to the back.

There lay the rows and rows of ambrosia vines.  Many days she had spent tending and pruning and harvesting them, even when she was too small to reach the top branches.  The vines thrived under the knife, not neglect.  A petty part of her was pleased that Lucas and Claude had more work to do now that she was gone. 

She stopped at the shed and grabbed a
sharp pruning knife, and then walked along a row just as she had done for as long as she could remember, looking for a branch with ripe fruits.  Ambrosia vines did not come ripe all at once – the harvest was continual once summer was underway.  Dyson and Rasora walked with her, and a short distance behind them followed Auguste and his two sons. 

She found a ripe vine and cut off three of the best fruits, hearing Auguste gasp in anger.  She ignored him and carefully sliced each fruit in half.  She gave one to Dyson and one to Rasora. 
“Try the juice.  See if it isn’t the most wonderful thing you’ve ever tasted.”

Dyson lifted half of a fruit and squeezed it, letting the dark red juice trickle into his mouth.  Rasora pressed his half against his lips and sucked it noisily.

Auguste groaned as Cosette slowly devoured her fruit, his hands opening and closing in impotent anger. 

Before
I
left
,
you
would
have
whipped
me
for
this
until
my
back
bled
.

Just as you had before.
 

The fruit was as sweet and fragrant as she remembered, exquisitely delicious and refreshing. 

“Ah, yes, I’ve tasted the wine they make from this,” said Rasora.  “It takes some gold to buy a bottle.  Now I know why.”

“
Wonderful,” agreed Dyson, tossing the husk aside. 

They heard a murmur of voices, and Cosette saw that the neighbors had come to investigate why a flyer had landed at Auguste’s place.  They stood back on the edge of the property, intimidated by soldiers wearing guns.

“Those are some of the other farmers,” she said to Dyson and Rasora.  “I would introduce you, but none of them were really my friends.”

And there, in the middle, stood Gregory.  Gregory, who had kissed another girl right in front of her.  The girl whom he had kissed stood beside him now, clutching his arm possessively, looking darkly at Cosette.

Gregory, however, was smiling at her.

He
always
smiles
. 
No
matter
what
.

With a start, she realized that Gregory was slow, slow in the head.  No wonder he had always smiled at her!  It wasn’t love that made him smile, like she had thought, no tenderness of heart, just the dull-witted happiness of a
backwards country boy. 

Gregory was never hers to begin with.  The girl he had kissed was welcome to him. 

She turned back to Dyson and Rasora, a smile on her face.  “That was it.  That was what I needed.”

“
What?” asked Dyson.

“
I’ve got it settled in my head now, finally, who I was and what I am.  I can leave now.”  She led them back down the row and tossed the knife in the direction of the shed. 

“
You’re leaving?” asked Auguste, confused.

She turned to him.  He was taller than she was, and yet she felt as though she was looking at a weak little man. 
“Yes, I’m leaving.  I won’t be back.  You can have this field, you and your boys.  I don’t want it.”

He looked at her with narrowed eyes, as though trying to see what trick she was playing on him.

Have
you
no
affection
at
all
,
I
asked
him
before
I
was
taken
away
,
but
he
said
no
,
it
was
all
about
business
. 
But
I
am
bigger
than
he
is
and
I
have
a
heart
. 
My
mother
used
to
love
him
,
once
,
or
she
wouldn’t
have
married
him
.

“
Here.”  She reached into her pocket and pulled out one of Rasora’s gold earrings.  “You need better equipment if this farm is to prosper.  And your sons should get some schooling.”  She pressed the gold into his sweating palm.

“
What?  What’s this?”  He stared at the thick gold ring.

“
Pure gold,” said Rasora. “Worth more than a dozen of these farms.”

Auguste’s hand closed, gripping the gold as if Cosette might take it back. 
“I…I…”

“
Goodbye, Auguste.”  She turned and left him standing at the edge of his field, his sons trying to pry his hand open.

Rasora gave her a sideways hug as they walked away. 
“I’m proud of you.  See how powerful that is, to not desire things?  You couldn’t have beaten him better than if you’d hit him with a club.”

“
I didn’t beat him,” said Cosette.  “I… I dismissed him.  It’s behind me now, all of it.  That part of my life is over.”

They
boarded the flyer, but at Rasora’s request, they stopped at the clearing overlooking Toulouse and the tavern where Imsami had been killed.

They climbed out, and Rasora shook her hand. 
“Now, my little friend, I have to say goodbye.”

“
Here?  Now?”

“
Yes.”  He looked at peace with himself.  “I took care of you, as I promised.”  He glanced at Dyson and back to her.  “You don’t need me anymore.  You’re going to be fine.  I’m going to walk down to Toulouse and I don’t know what I’ll do after I get there, but Imsami will guide me.”

Dyson shook Rasora’s hand, but Cosette caught Rasora’s wrist before he could leave. 
“Will you do something for me?”

He nodded. 
“If I can.”

She pulled the other gold ring out of her pocket and handed it to him. 
“Will you take your…I mean, my ring with you?  And whether you start a center for enlightenment or a home for lost children or whatever Imsami inspires you, will you use this to help you get started?”

He looked at the ring thoughtfully, and then took it and put it in his pocket. 
“I’m wearing your underclothes,” he said, “so I might as well use your gold.”  He laughed, hugged her again, and walked down the hill in the direction of Toulouse.

Dyson raised his eyebrows. 
“You really do need to explain that to me.”

“
I’ll tell you the details later, but he refuses to own anything anymore, so it’s not like it sounds.”

She opened the door to the flyer, but Dyson held back. 
“I’m done here,” she said.  “We can go.”

“
No, not yet.”  He walked to the edge of the clearing and looked down at the city, rocking on his heels.  “There’s one more thing we have to settle.”

She walked up beside him. 
“What’s that?”

“
My job.  You know I travel into dangerous places.  Last night I received the assignment to travel further into the galactic spiral, where there are some planets balanced between the Union and the Alliance.”

He’s
preparing
to
tell
me
goodbye
.

“
Yes, I expected something like that,” she said, trying to be brave.  “I pull you out of the fire and you jump right back in the skillet.”

He grinned at her. 
“Sad, but true.  What I need for this assignment, though, is a good partner, someone who can help me get out of tight situations.  I don’t know anyone better than you for that, so, ah, I asked for you as my adjutant.”  He cleared his throat and looked down at her, his blue eyes measuring her response.  “They said yes, and drew up your orders.”

“
They what?  Without asking me?  And what’s an adjutant?”

“
An aide.  Like being my copilot.  That’s the way the military works, I'm afraid.”  His face grew anxious.  “Of course, you can always refuse the assignment if you think we couldn’t work together.”

“
No, no, I can probably handle it.”  She tried to keep her face calm. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“
Because we're going to be working pretty closely together, sometimes disguising ourselves as tourists, like we were a couple on vacation, and you'll have to pretend to, you know, be nice to me in public.”

“
I see.”

Actually
,
that
sounds
terrific
,
having
to
hold
his
hand
and
lean
against
him
and
maybe
steal
a
kiss
or
two
,
but
why
is
he
hesitating
? 
Maybe
he
doesn't
like
me
that
much
and
it
will
be
hard
for
him
to
pretend
to
like
me
. 
But
then
he
wouldn't
have
asked
for
me
…