Wreck of the Nebula Dream (17 page)

Brow furrowed, Nick glared at him, yanking his elbow loose.

“I recommend we brace the door with something. You observe it didn’t open all the way. The tracks are bent at the top.” Khevan pointed. “I think none of us wish to be trapped inside.”

“Good suggestion.” Nick acknowledged his oversight.

The two men searched in the debris out in the main hold and returned lugging stout metal containers strong enough to prevent the closing of the door, should it attempt to shut before Nick was ready to leave. After two such trips, Nick and Khevan had constructed a column on each side of the portal as a precaution.

 
“Hey, it’s every bit as messed up in here,” Twilka called out, having impatiently and imprudently gone ahead. Apparently she wasn’t worried about taking any precautions. “How am I supposed to find my jewel case in this mess?”

“Maybe she should get the hint she’s not supposed to,” Mara said to Nick, half under her breath. “Is she for real?”

He shook his head. “Real enough for her own world, I guess. A bit lost in the current situation. The ‘Lites aren’t used to dealing with mundane issues, like the rest of us, who don’t have generational billionaires for ancestors.”

“Lucky she has
us
.” Mara shepherded the children in front of her into the bonded stores enclosure. “I never spent any significant amount of time with a Socialite before, I have to admit.”

“Has its interesting moments.” Nick walked after her.

“Yes, this cruise continues to provide all kinds of unexpected treats, doesn’t it?” Mara’s reply was dry.

The bonded storage area showed the aftereffects of the
Nebula Dream
’s collision with the asteroid field, but conditions weren’t as totally chaotic as the central hold. Some of the bins remained locked, their contents fairly orderly, waiting to be reclaimed by owners who were never coming. About half of the big doors had sprung open, contents spilled as if a giant had picked up a toy box and dumped the contents onto the deck.

“We were late getting here from Glideon.” Nick tried to pick a spot to begin searching. It was hard to believe he’d only arrived on the
Dream
such a short time ago.
My fellow shuttle passengers were so impatient about getting on board.
 

Staring at the piles of luggage, Khevan shrugged. “Our possessions should have been on top or at the front, due to our tardiness.”

“Great. So ours toppled out first and got buried under the things stowed earlier.” Mara reached for a small black satchel, made from some expensive, glossy leather, and heaved it aside. The deletion of one item created no dent in the giant pile of luggage.

“The AI said my gear was stowed here, in section A30.” Nick was fighting not to be discouraged himself.
What seemed so simple on the bridge sure looks like the proverbial hunt for the needle in the haystack here in the hold. Time is slipping away, and finding my equipment is only the first step in getting off the
Nebula Dream
before the Mawreg come, or the air runs out, or the Yeatters somehow go nova. For sure, I’m not handling anyone’s luggage gently
. Kneading his aching shoulder, Nick wished for the tenth time he hadn’t aggravated the original injury with the rescue work in the children’s cabin. If it wasn’t for the increasing pain, he might actually welcome the chance to throw some things, work out the night’s pent-up frustration and anger.

Reading off section numbers painted high on the bulkhead, Khevan walked along the front of the tumbled bins. He stopped about ten yards away from the entrance. “Section A30? Here.”

“Okay, let’s get organized.” Impatiently, Nick issued orders. “We need something for the children to sit on, and an activity to do while they wait. I don’t want them in any danger of getting hit by falling luggage and other junk. And I want them to stay where we can watch them. No telling whether any other passengers or crew may have gotten the brilliant idea to do a bit of looting here to pass the time waiting for a rescue that ain’t coming.” He eyed the pile of stuff he was going to have to dig through, which included all manner of oddly shaped items.

“There’s a broken bin open over here,” Mara reported from across the aisle. “It’s full of designer dresses and shawls and things. Exclusive, high-end items, indeed.”

“I can play dress-up.” Gianna bounced to join Mara, pawing through the garments as they were pulled from the boxes.

Smoothing the girl’s unruly curls with one hand, Mara nodded. “Yes, honey, I’m sure no one will mind if you play with these tonight.”

“Here.” Khevan handed Mara two huge, fabulously velvety soft black fur coats. “I found these off to the side, beyond where our things are supposed to be. There are about ten, all different kinds. The children can curl up on these, perhaps?”

“You must have found the luggage of someone from an ice planet, or who was going to one,” Mara joked, taking the garments. “Or a smuggler. Excellent. Thanks!”

Nick got Paolo’s attention. “Trooper, you’re in charge of your sister while the rest of us sort through the luggage, okay?”

Paolo was dubious, lower lip jutting out. “Do I hafta play dress-up with her?”

Nick laughed. “Absolutely not. Let her dress the bear! You’re on duty, trooper. You can’t be out of uniform.” He plucked at the sleeve of Paolo’s close-fitting brown pajamas. “You stand guard over her and keep an eye on the entrance to the main hold for me. Come get me at once if you hear or see anything going on out there. Okay?”

“Like what?”

Is he old enough, responsible enough to handle this?
Nick rubbed his neck.
But I need Mara and Khevan to help search for my gear, which the kid can’t do.
“Any other people. Any loud sounds, or more smoke.”

Paolo made a messy salute and stood straighter. “Yes, sir.”

Leaving the children occupied, Gianna digging through the suitcases in a greedy, excited search for even more treasures, and Paolo solemnly keeping watch, Nick attacked the problem of finding his gear. He paced the length of the bin marked A30 and back again, skirting the edge of the debris pile. “My duffle has to be here, but I sure don’t see it. I guess we move crap – um, stuff, until we strike it lucky.”

“So be it.” Khevan was resigned to the night’s labors. Picking a spot on the edge of the A30 area, he threw the first two bags aside, across the wide aisle and onto a similar pile of jumbled luggage over there.

“Well, I’m going to get my own stuff,” Twilka announced cheerfully. “Where was it, soldier?”

Nick hadn’t bothered to ask the AI.
Never remotely would have occurred to me to ask, in fact
. “A37,” he answered at random. Much as he needed all the help he could get to unbury his gear, he couldn’t believe Twilka would be of any material assistance.
Better to have her out of the way
–
as long as she doesn’t get herself in trouble.
Nick was acutely conscious of time clicking irretrievably away from them. Rescuing the ‘Lite from under a stack of luggage wasn’t something he wanted to do. “Be careful,” he called after her. “Watch how you move the pieces in these big piles of stuff, because it’s balanced pretty precariously.”

“Thanks,” she said. With a wave, she moved off along the line of bins.

“Your bag?” Laughing, Mara picked up a small, elegant box, covered in green and yellow reptilian scales, with jeweled clasps and a handle in the shape of entwined, scarlet flowers. Admiring the workmanship, she turned it around and around.

Nick chuckled with genuine amusement. “Not that! Mine’s a standard military-issue, black and gray duffle bag, about this big.” He held his hands a yard apart. “In this gaudy treasure house of designer names and blazing colors, it should stand out like a flaring nova.”

“Mine is red, black and turquoise leather,” Khevan informed them. “With the insignia of the Lady on both sides. You’ll know it if you find it. I’d like my blaster, to say the least. I’m going to search a bit further down.”

Nick set to work with a will, Mara toiling at his side.

About an hour later, Nick looked up as he heaved aside yet another piece of expensive luggage, to find Mara staring at him pensively. He’d insisted she take a well-earned break, go to check on the children for a minute, and then rejoin him in the vicinity of A30. When he told her to rest a bit longer before recommencing the hard, exhausting work of cargo shifting, Mara seated herself on a big, upended wooden chest, fanning herself with a piece of a broken box. She stared at him, her gaze going from head to toe.

He paused, wiping his own brow.
The air isn’t circulating any too efficiently here on Level Ten.
“What?”
 

“I wish we’d had dinner,” she answered simply.
 

“But you had another date.”

“No, a previous engagement.” She corrected him crisply. “It was a business dinner. I was fact-finding a deal, discussing the possibility of Loxton doing some work for a major manufacturing company in Sector Fourteen. A working dinner with the vice presidents of logistics and manufacturing.”

“A business dinner wearing a strapless blue dress?” Nick said, before he could stop himself.

She sighed, tapping her toe on the deck. “Jealous, much? No, it
was
a business dinner, Nick. In one of the
Dream
’s conference rooms, not my cabin or theirs. We had the basics of the contract worked out, in fact.” Biting her lip, she rolled her eyes. “Why am I explaining this to you?”

“I’m not sure.” He stood for a moment, staring at her until she turned her head, making a show of sifting through more debris.
Where is this conversation going? I know where I’d take it if we weren’t on a dying ship, trying to save our skins. Fuck, why couldn’t I have met her in another time and place?

He thought maybe she blushed. She laughed again, but somewhat ruefully. “Who knows if the other guys survived? Or my personal AI? I left the working documents and all my equipment in my cabin on Level Two. Shut the door and walked away. Not important in the grand scale of things tonight.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear someone in this group has their priorities straight,” Nick said. “Unlike Twilka and her jewelry box hunt.” He went to the pile of passenger belongings, pausing with his hand on another container.
She said she wished we’d had dinner, gave you an opening, say something, idiot.
Over his shoulder, he made a comment, inwardly braced for her reaction.
“I was in the casino the next night, hoping to run into you.”

“You were?” He heard her set the makeshift fan aside with a click.

Encouraged by the pleased lilt in her voice, he risked a bit more honesty. “Yeah. It wasn’t the same without you.”

“Not to mention my blazing luck at the slot machines.” She laughed.

“I did lose a few credits at the slots for you.”
She’s so easy to talk to, felt so good in my arms for the brief moment on the bridge.
In the current crisis, could he and Mara have slid right past the normal, artificial stages of getting to know each other? He picked at the embossed logo on the crate under his hand.
I feel as if I’ve known her forever. I wonder if she feels the same way
. He swallowed hard, opened his mouth to say something, but bit the words back.
No.
She’s out of my class.

“How thoughtful of you, to play the slots for me.” Her tone was cool but teasing.
 

 
Tossing aside the next worthless suitcase, he shot her a sideways glance. Mara hopped off the crate, coming to help. “You’re hard to stop thinking about, lady.”

Tilting her head and raising one elegant eyebrow, Mara smiled. “I’m flattered.”
 

There was a companionable silence for another few minutes, while they both worked steadily at diminishing different segments of the overwhelming tower of luggage. Unasked, she helped him tug at one particularly bulky trunk. “Is your shoulder bothering you again?”

Judiciously, he rolled his shoulders, next trying to massage the ache away. Grunting, he let his hand drop to his side. “Yeah, but I’ll live. Thanks for helping.”

“No problem.” Mara’s next words stunned him. “You’re hard to forget yourself, you know. I couldn’t concentrate on the business deal, actually. I kept hoping you’d call.”
 

He demurred, honestly surprised by her observation. “Why would a guy like me be so hard to forget? I do what they tell me, go where I’m ordered.”

She shook her head. “No, there’s something about you, the way you walk, the way you carry yourself... I watched you in the Shuttle boarding area, and on the ship, too. Maybe you don’t notice, but people instinctively move out of your way. You’re so confident. Not arrogant, not conceited – comfortable in your own skin, I guess. You know what you’re capable of, not afraid to take action; you don’t wait for someone else to step in.” Mara stopped, studying him for a minute, her face set in serious lines. Laughing softly, she blushed, moving one hand to partially cover her eyes, making the nervous movement into a graceful gesture of pushing her tousled hair off her face. “I better shut myself up before I embarrass you totally. I’m sorry.” She started to walk away from him.

He was sorely tempted to ask her to have dinner, lunch, and breakfast with him for the rest of their lives. He’d never met anyone who affected him as powerfully as Mara Lyrae did, no other woman who lingered so stubbornly in his mind. He admired her courage and her calm and her sense of humor, even in the desperate situation.