Walking to the Stars (25 page)

Talgerit lifted one foot up and propped it on the table, and Marsia asked, “May I touch?"

"Does this have anything to do with dinner, unna?” Talgerit asked, sounding suspicious.

"Nothing,” Marsia said. “You can have dinner, and diesel for the truck, whether you let me examine your feathers, or not."

Talgerit grinned. “Oh, don't need diesel for the truck. The truck ran out of diesel long before we got to Albany. Haven't worked out how not to need dinner yet."

Samuel tried to think through an explanation for the truck running without fuel, and gave up because he was too hungry and tired, and Marsia lifted the finer feathers around Talgerit's ankle apart and peered at his skin.

"That's a big scar,” Marsia said, and both Samuel and Talgerit replied, “Marron."

"Right. Big marron, then,” Marsia said, ruffling through the feathers across the top of Talgerit's foot, then crouching down to peer underneath, at the sole.

"Here's your food,” Marsia said, straightening up and lifting Talgerit's foot off the table as a young man carried in a tray holding three covered plates, reminding Samuel that he'd been living on meal replacement bars and rabbit for some time.

"Is Nick still washing?” Samuel asked, lifting the cover off a plate and finding a slab of dark meat and a chunk of bread.

"That's mine,” Talgerit said, passing Samuel a plate of unrecognizable mess that still smelled ridiculously good.

Samuel handed Talgerit his meat and bread, and Marsia said, “Nick has gone to the harbor, to find out if any freighters are expected."

Samuel shoveled a forkful of vegetables he couldn't identify into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

Nick ambled in a few minutes later, passing a bunch of keys to Marsia and shrugging off an oversized jacket that dripped rain. He'd trimmed his hair and beard down to stubble, and he was several shades cleaner than the last time Samuel had seen him, pre-bath.

He didn't meet Samuel's gaze as he took the plate Samuel handed him, just nodded his thanks.

"There's a passenger freighter due soon,” Nick said, picking up his fork. “The harbor is in radio contact with it. We can probably arrange your passage on it, if someone in Guyana will guarantee payment when you arrive there."

"I'll get the university to contact the ship, when Marsia takes me to the radio,” Samuel said.

"What was your exposure like?” Marsia asked, and Nick shrugged.

"Edge of blast zone, so environmental shouldn't be too bad. We drank water and ate vermin, though,” Nick said. “I hate to think what we're hosting at the moment."

Marsia made unhappy tutting noises and opened a box that held medication and took out containers of tablets.

"Potassium iodide,” she said. “Anti-nematode therapy. Please, none of you father any children for at least three months. Make it six months if you can. Samuel, when you get home, get someone to run a Geiger counter over you, check if you have actually been exposed to any significant levels of radiation."

"You don't have a Geiger or scintillation counter here?” Samuel asked.

Marsia shrugged. “Never have had. We just assume that people who have been near blast zones have been exposed, and give them potassium iodide. If they don't die of cancer twenty-five years later, it was unnecessary or it worked."

"If you want to be dismayed about equipment we don't have, worry about the lack of dosimeters for the X-ray tech here,” Nick said.

Samuel shook his head and went back to his dinner.

In the hallway, after dinner, Talgerit said to Nick, “I'm going home now. Do you want me to tell Josh you're not dead?"

Nick nodded. “Please, yes. Tell him I'll be home soon."

Talgerit turned to Samuel, and hugged him tightly for a moment.

"Thank you,” Samuel said, when Talgerit let go of him.

Talgerit grinned, the wide irrepressible smile that Samuel had become so used to, and strolled off down the hallway, borrowed blue trousers sliding down, his feathery feet sticking incongruously out the bottom of the baggy legs.

"Radio?” Marsia asked, switching off her office light and closing the door. “Samuel wanted to use the radio?"

Outside the main admin office for the hospital, after a brief exchange of radio messages with a disbelieving early morning radio operator at Guyana University, Samuel tired to grapple with the idea he was going home.

"I'll see you both in the morning,” Marsia said, waving as she headed toward the main part of the hospital. “Nick knows where breakfast is served."

"How long until the freighter arrives?” Samuel asked. “Do you know?"

"Tomorrow,” Nick said. “It will only be here long enough to restock with food and water, maybe a few hours."

In the hallway, before they reached the bedroom doors, Samuel took hold of Nick's elbow, stopping both of them from going any further.

"Stay with me tonight,” Samuel said.

Nick looked wrecked, dark shadows under his eyes spreading like bruises down his hollow cheeks, but he nodded and said, “I was hoping you would ask me to."

Samuel left his room in darkness, dropping the bag with the sapphire to the floor and banging his shins against the cold metal frame of the bed as he lifted the blankets down, then pulling his borrowed clothes off and letting them fall on top of the bag.

The bed frame creaked and settled as Samuel climbed on the mattress, and the sheets were clammy and chilled against his skin.

Nick slid under the blankets beside him a moment later, just as cold.

The sound of Nick letting out a tense breath was loud in the room when Samuel wrapped his arm around Nick's ribs and rested his head on Nick's chest.

The ridges of scar tissue on Nick's chest were easy to trace, dipping over the grooves of Nick's ribs, and Samuel traced each line of scarring carefully, memorizing each one.

When Samuel lifted his head, hoping to read something on Nick's face, even in the gloom, Nick met him halfway. Nick's stubble brushed against Samuel's chapped lips, then they connected, half-open mouths warmer than anything else in the room.

The sheet underneath Samuel crackled when he rolled onto his back, pulling Nick with him, so Nick sprawled across him, all angular hipbones and bony knees.

Nick kissed Samuel, then crawled down the bed, dragging the blankets with him, and Samuel didn't care about the cold air and being exhausted anymore. Nick's tongue was gentle on Samuel's chest scars, and his stubble rubbed the goose bumps on Samuel's skin.

"Don't go to sleep on me,” Nick said, then he slid further down the bed, so his cheek brushed against Samuel's belly.

"I won't,” Samuel said. “Promise."

Nick laughed, low and quiet, then his fingers touched the scar on Samuel's thigh and his mouth pressed against the head of Samuel's cock, a fleeting touch that might have been a kiss.

When Samuel grabbed above his head, looking for something to hang onto, he found cold metal bars for the headboard, and gripping them made the bed creak alarmingly.

Nick was slow and careful, the touch of his mouth on Samuel's cock more flickering licks than anything else, so tentative that Samuel shook the bars of the headboard in frustration.

He couldn't tell if Nick was just being hesitant, or was actually trying to drive Samuel crazy, and it really didn't matter, not once Nick pushed fingers wet with spit across Samuel's ass.

No, not hesitant at all.

The fluttering touch on Samuel's cock stopped for a moment, and Nick asked, “Can we?"

Samuel had to work to speak, because Nick was easing a finger inside him, so damned good.

"Yeah,” Samuel said. “I'd like that."

"Beside the bed, on the floor,” Nick said.

It took long seconds for Samuel to work out that Nick wanted him to pick something up from the floor, and even longer to get his fingers to unlock from around the headboard.

Samuel fumbled around in the darkness, his hand finding Nick's clothes, in a pile, then locating something lumpy in one of the pockets.

"Resourceful,” Samuel said, pulling out what felt like a condom in a packet and a sachet of lube.

Nick lifted his mouth again, long enough to say, “It's a hospital.” Nick moved his finger slowly, dragging and pushing, making Samuel gasp.

Soon, Nick lay back down, half across Samuel, replacing the cold of the night with warm skin. Samuel pushed the packets into Nick's hand, then reached down and curled a palm around Nick's cock, which was nudging against Samuel's thigh.

Nick flinched, and said, “Do you have any idea how cold your hand is?"

"No,” Samuel admitted, and Nick wrapped his own hand around Samuel's, tightening Samuel's grip, and Samuel could feel Nick's cock pulsing faintly, in time with Nick's heart.

With the blankets dragged back up over them, it was almost warm enough, and Nick's fingers were gentle and firm, rolling Samuel onto his side, then rubbing down Samuel's spine, making him flex and stretch.

Nick pressed his mouth against Samuel's neck, his breathing loud in Samuel's ear, and the fingers that pushed against Samuel's ass were slick with lube.

Desperation flared in Samuel, sharp and sudden with regret, and he thought that Nick must have been feeling it, too, knowing that time was slipping away from them.

Samuel curled forward, gripping onto the edge of the bed frame, and Nick hitched himself half over Samuel, tangling their legs together, and pushed in.

The bed squeaked with each rock of Nick's weight, and the heat in Samuel's belly grew, from a spark of warmth, spreading through him, until he felt like he was burning, waves of sparks rolling across his skin.

Nick came, in long, slow gasps, then his hand tightened around Samuel's cock, pad of his thumb circling, and Samuel gave in to the heat and came, too.

Afterward, with Nick's arm draped around his waist and Nick's sleeping breaths slow against his neck, Samuel listened to the wind pick up outside, rattling rain against the window of the hospital room, until his exhausted body fell asleep.

Samuel woke up alone, but the other side of the narrow bed was still warm to touch, and he had a vague memory of Nick talking to him and getting dressed.

Nick came back before Samuel had finished bathing, calling Samuel's name and clattering around the bedroom.

When Samuel opened the bathroom door, letting the warm, damp air out and the cold air in, Nick had dropped a pile of clothes on the bed and was sorting through them.

"Marsia found some warmer clothes for you,” Nick said, holding up a sweater. “Guess you won't have to freeze on the freighter now."

Nick's eyes were sparkling, and Samuel smiled back at him. Nick was wearing a new selection of clothes that almost fitted him as well.

"And?” Samuel asked.

"Talgerit drove back into Albany this morning, with several of the other Noongar clever men. They're in the dining room."

Samuel took the shirt that Nick held out to him and pulled it on, then stepped into a pair of work trousers and tucked the shirt in.

"Talgerit is back?” Samuel asked.

Nick nodded and held out a pair of shoes, worn and shabby. “These look about the right size for you."

The shoes fitted fine, with thick socks to pad them, and Samuel dragged on the sweater and felt adequately dressed for the first time in months.

"Breakfast,” Nick said, holding the door open.

The dining room at the hospital was small, containing half a dozen tables and a buffet table holding steaming platters and an urn.

Two of the tables were surrounded by medical staff eating toast and porridge. Another table was crowded with Noongar men, all with heaped plates of toast and scrambled eggs in front of them, eating enthusiastically.

Talgerit waved at Samuel and Nick, and Nick pushed Samuel toward the buffet.

"You can get food first,” Nick said. “Clever men value breakfast."

Samuel stacked toast on his plate, added a scoop of scrambled eggs that seemed to be genuinely made from eggs, and decided to take a chance on the brown liquid coming out of the urn.

Extra chairs had been added to the table, beside Talgerit, when Samuel walked over carrying his plate and mug, so Samuel sat beside Talgerit, who elbowed him affectionately but didn't interrupt the pace of food consumption.

Clever men did value breakfast, obviously.

Samuel moved his knees so Nick could slide in beside him, and Talgerit chuckled around a mouthful of toast.

"You read minds now, unna?” Nick asked Talgerit, picking up his fork.

"Necks,” Talgerit said, and Samuel could feel the heat radiating from his own cheeks.

After the plates had been emptied, Ed, who Samuel remembered from the forest clearing, drained his mug of the brown liquid that definitely wasn't coffee, and said, “Dr. Nick, Samuel. Talgerit has told us of the journey you have made."

Nick said, “Samuel and I would like to thank Talgerit, and everyone else, for their help with the journey. Thank you."

"Thank you, Talgerit, and everyone,” Samuel added.

"What's that thing called?” Talgerit asked, turning to look at Samuel.

"Which thing?” Samuel asked, and Talgerit waved his hand, passing it through the table.

"Phase shifting,” Samuel said, poking Talgerit, where he was pressed against Samuel's shoulder, to make sure the rest of Talgerit was substantial.

"Phase shifting,” Talgerit said to the rest of the people at the table. “That's what it's called."

Ed, and the other clever men, nodded and muttered amongst themselves, and Ed said, “Talgerit has shown us how to do this thing."

Nick leaned forward eagerly, one of his elbows in Samuel's plate. “Everyone can phase shift, unna?"

Talgerit said, “It's easy, sort of."

"Talgerit told us about the trains carrying poison,” Ed said. “We've decided to stop them, now we can do this."

Nick wiped his elbow and said, “Samuel will tell the world, all the people, this important thing you are doing."

Samuel said, “You will save many lives, and maybe stop a war from happening."

Talgerit took a stone, covered in painted markings, out of his pocket and handed it to Samuel. “You can travel safely with this, everything will let you past."