Future Prospect (7 page)

Colan took his own centering breath, not willing to argue with her when she was feeling ill. It could be any number of things, but now he was worrying about it. If his theory was right, she was suffering from ocular nervosa. “Where does it hurt?”

She reached up and gestured at the back of her skull, running her fingers from the base up to the midpoint on her cranium. Not good. Colan stepped closer to her, and she blinked up at him through squinting brown eyes. “How long has it hurt?”

“Since I stepped off the shuttle here. It comes and goes.”

“But it’s been painful longer each time it returns?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“I think I know what’s wrong.” He tore his gaze from her and looked over at the other three men who were wandering toward a wet ravine. “Hey Wayde, you go on and we’ll catch up in a few minutes.”

Wayde nodded agreeably. “Give her a rest, sure. Humid as all get out today. We’ll just head down along here and stop at that big growth of cockers. Last time I checked there was a woolie in the sinkhole. Miklos here will likely be interested.” The young man nodded quickly, and with a wave at Lia, which she listlessly returned, the unlikely threesome wandered away.

“What’s going on?”

“I think you’ve had an allergic reaction to Gamaliel. Or at least your nerve endings have.”

Lia wrinkled up her eyebrows. “Is this another one of your mysterious ailments?”

“Not mine. You’ll be fine. Didn’t you read the report your doctor and Padev put together?” Colan tried to tease her as he evaluated her. She was too pale and didn’t have as much spirit as she had that first day. “It’s not a serious condition. When you get back to the settlement, your doctor can give you some steroids, and that will cure it in a few hours. But until then—”

“Until then, what?”

“I’m going to try and make you feel better, so your hike back won’t be as miserable.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Give your nerves something else to talk to each other about.”

* * * *

Lia studied Colan as he peered down at her, and her stomach fluttered. He stared at her as if he could monitor a pain gauge on her forehead. If there was one, it would be in the red. Her vision clouded and every beat of her heart throbbed too hard in her arteries and veins. At this point, if he could alleviate even a fraction of her discomfort, she’d let him do whatever he wanted.

“What’s a cocker? What’s a woolie?”

“I’ll tell you later. Just close your eyes and try to relax.” He stepped forward, and for a second, Lia wanted to refuse him, her instinct to not accept his orders asserting itself until her head thudded with another wave of pain. Managing to give him a stern look, she closed her eyes and waited. She sensed his approach. Somehow he moved the air around her in a distinctive way. His fingertips bumped against her hands, and she jumped at the contact.

“Relax. Your nerves are jangled enough already,” his deep voice advised her. It sounded as if he spoke right in her ear. With little circles, he traced along her palms and rubbed along her fingers, the repetitive motions slowly capturing her attention. She stopped thinking about the organisms surrounding them and the work she was sure was waiting for her at the settlement and instead let Colan’s skin on hers distract her.

“There’s something about a particular wavelength of light in our sun which can trigger a reaction in some people. It resonates in a link between the retina and the optic nerve, and the neurons start to fire too frequently. It’s technical.” Now he stroked her wrists, and a weight lifted from Lia’s shoulders. The pain shrunk a fraction, but she relished it. “So if you close your eyes, and have some other stimulation, your nerves can settle for a while.”

“What if I wear shades?”

“It’ll help.” She felt him move against her, shifting his fingers to her elbows as he touched her skin, his thumb running up and down her forearms. She was looser and almost relaxed right now—enough that she was grateful to have her eyes closed so she wouldn’t have to look at him and be embarrassed. “We’ll get them on you in a minute. I still want you to keep your eyes closed.”

“How many people have this happen?”

“I’ve known of two. One was Gina Healy; she told me all about it. The other was a man who had such a severe case he lost his rational mind and took an axe to the side of the science station. You can still see the marks.”

“I don’t have an axe.”

“Good, I won’t have to watch my back.” There was a light tone in his voice, and if she hadn’t known better, she’d say he was amused. He rubbed his thumbs into the palms of her hands, and she nearly moaned at the sensation.

“So, it didn’t happen to you?”

“No. The foot weevils got me, but this never did. Once your eyes adjust, it won’t bother you anymore.”

“How long does it take?” His thumbs now stroked against her wrists, and Lia found herself anticipating where his fingertips might travel next. The contact felt so good she wished she’d worn less clothing so he would have more targets.

“It wears off in a week or so. But your doctor can speed it along with steroids.”

“Okay.” She breathed out in satisfied agreement as he shifted his attention to her temples, fingers circling against the sensitive skin in a slow rhythm. Stars, that was good, not just the lessening of her headache, which was appreciable, but the gentle friction pleased her in a visceral way. Eyes still closed, she listened to him breathe. There were no other sounds in the forest. The shellers had told them only a few types of flivvers made noise and only in their breeding cycles, so silence was the norm among these looming creatures.

“You’re doing better,” Colan stated, but thankfully kept touching her. She smiled and stayed still, not wanting him to stop yet. For the first time in two days, she had no pain ricocheting in her skull.

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“You think I’m the sort of person who would let someone suffer if I knew I could help?”

“No. But I know I’m not especially high on your list of favorite people.”

“That’s not true. I don’t have a list of any favorite people.”

Colan’s deadpan statement made Lia’s eyelids flutter open. She needed to see his face to judge his expression and decide if he was joking or not. All she saw was a frown and drawn together eyebrows before he admonished her to close her eyes. Again, she obeyed, too distracted by his soft rubs along the backs of her hands to argue. She wasn’t going to do anything to distract him at this point.

* * * *

He really needed to stop now. Colan willed himself to remove his hands from Lia’s body, but there was no response. There
was
a response, but it was certainly not appropriate for the place they were in nor the person he was touching. Why did he keep finding ways to get close to her? He knew why, but in a useless fit of self-deception he wanted to pretend he didn’t.

Looking at her face—softened by the lessening of pain, eyes closed, mouth relaxed into the tiniest of smiles—Colan decided to have an honest chat with himself later, when he was alone in his hut with only uninvited flivvers for company.

“You would be doing this for Miklos?”

No.
“Yes.”

“Wayde or Rob?”

No.
“Yes. But they’ve been here long enough it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“I suppose I could rub my own hands if you’re getting tired.” She moved her fingers in a halfhearted manner, and he managed not to grasp her and pull her closer. Wisps of soft brown hair had come loose from her braid as he’d massaged her temples, and he watched them move in the slight breeze. He noticed she had a few pale freckles across the bridge of her nose. How had he missed those until now?

“I’m not getting tired. And it doesn’t work if you do it yourself.”

Lia’s lips curved into a bigger smile, and he wondered if she read something into that comment. Not that
he
was. “Why doesn’t it work?”

“Because you know where you’re going to touch next. When your brain isn’t sure what’s next, it starts to anticipate. Which means it isn’t paying attention to the pain.”

“I don’t think that’s how brains work,” she countered.

“Maybe not. Is it working for you?” And that
had
been a double entendre, unintentional, but jangling between them like a ringing bell. He went back to her wrists; swathes of tender skin covereing little veins and tiny bones.

“My head doesn’t hurt, so you might have something with that theory of yours.”

“Would you like to go back and see your doctor?”

Trying to act as if it didn’t matter, Colan pulled his hands from her and watched as she blinked her eyes open. She focused on him and took a few slow breaths. “It still feels okay.”

“It should until we get back. If you put on shades and move slowly.”

“Then that’s what I’ll do.”

“What, no argument?”

Lia shook her head with a smile and without a wince. “I don’t know how long this mood’s going to last, so I better start walking.”

* * * *

A crashing boom invaded Colan’s vivid dream of a huge river convoluted by oxbows, and he sat up in bed, confused and wondering what had happened. Once he realized the roof of his hut hadn’t caved in, he concluded Gina’s boys had been at it again. With equal parts annoyance and worry for their safety, he headed for the door, remembering to put on his boots at the last minute. There was no telling what he was going to find outside, and he didn’t want to contract foot weevils again on top of whatever disaster awaited him.

Opening his front door, he looked down over the yard separating his place from Gina’s house. Ermil and Perrin’s handiwork was immediately obvious. The tall stack of resin buckets piled against a leaning plank fence were now scattered all over the ground. Most of them were charred, and some were still smoking. The boys had found some sort of explosive and hatched a demented science experiment to destroy their mother’s pile of food containers stashed for eventual recycling. There was no sign of the two brothers, and Colan worried one or both of them might have been injured.

He swung down the rope he’d installed and hit the soggy ground with a splash, searching the area for signs of small male humans, blood stains, or, stars forbid, a severed finger or ear. Finding nothing but exploded buckets, he headed for Gina’s house, calling out for Ermil and Perrin as he walked. The back door was open, and he did a quick search of the quiet and empty house. The usual clutter of three people filled it; modular toy bricks, stacks of clean and dirty laundry, dishes scattered on level surfaces.

Colan headed out the front door and scanned Pearl’s street, still calling out for the boys. Where were they? They couldn’t have gotten far since the explosion hadn’t happened more than a minute ago. Why engineer a dramatic explosion and not stay to see the show?

He spun on his heel, boot digging into the soft surface of the road and noticed two people running his way. For a moment, he thought they were responding to the explosion, but their steady pace indicated they were exercising, not rescuing. As the figures approached, he recognized Lia in form-fitting and brightly colored clothing. Great. Just what he needed; missing children, explosions in the yard, and this woman staring at him as she jogged to a halt a meter from him. The man with her stopped as well, his black hair damp with sweat, and his onyx eyes evaluated Colan as if he might be a threat.

“Good morning, Colan.” Lia breathed heavily and propped her hands on her hips as she gulped in air. The man with her was silent and un-winded. He wore brief exercise clothing and looked as solid as a boulder. They stood close together. He didn’t allow himself to wonder why, because the boys were more important than knowing about Lia’s social connections.

“Did you see two smallish boys in that direction?” Colan asked as he pointed back the way they’d come. Judging by their origin, they’d run from the nice trail which went northeast through the cocker forest.

“No,” the un-winded man answered quickly. “Are they missing?”

“Yes, because they know they’re in trouble.”

“What happened?”

“They blew up some buckets in the back.” Colan swung his thumb in the direction of the backyard and tried not to notice any part of Lia’s curvy body.

“I’ll just take a look.” The formidable man took a step away and introduced himself as Bendix Zashi, the safety chief, before he ran off like a machine. Great, now the law was on the case. Colan just wanted to find the troublemakers and assure himself they were uninjured before he turned them over to their mother who was undoubtedly busy at work in the science station. Now, there would probably be a report filed and official intervention, which he would have to liaison.

Bringing his gaze back from the disappearing form of Zashi, Colan found Lia watching him with raised eyebrows and no expression.

“Feeling better?”

“Much. Thanks again for your help yesterday. The doc gave me some medicine, and I’m a new person.” Lia kept her gaze on his face as her cheeks flushed. She must have been running hard. That was good; she was adjusting to the planet. She cleared her throat and raised her chin just as Colan felt a breeze flutter along his back and chest. His bare back and chest. Nebula’s balls, he was out here in the middle of the street wearing only briefs and hiking boots. Thank stars he hadn’t fallen asleep nude like he usually did, or this conversation would be even more awkward.

“I need to find those boys.”
And get some pants on
.

“I’ll help.” Lia turned her head away to scan along the road which was deserted of people. This was a small blessing, despite the embarrassment of having her see him nearly naked, Colan didn’t want to hear anyone joking about his attire. Pearlites were desperate for amusement, and this would certainly fall into the category of something to chortle over for the next few days.

“What do they look like?”

“Ah, one is about this tall, and the other is this tall.” He indicated different heights against his midsection, realizing yet again he was nearly naked when Lia glanced at his stomach and away quickly. “They’re both brown haired, tanned, and menaces. Ermil and Perrin Healy. They belong to Gina, the head scientist.”