Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Jeneva
The meeting with Commander Toth had been a blur of bureaucratic jargon and agonizingly slow data entry.
Leaning against the wall in the hallway outside the Commander’s office, Jeneva gave herself a moment to process emotions. Her legs ached. Her head throbbed. And her heart almost refused to believe that the papers in her left hand made her an official resident of the colony.
Rusik was being investigated, and the asylum would be assessed for necessity and safety, not to mention human rights violations.
She did it.
Her chest filled with warmth. She was free and she couldn’t wait to tell Methic. Commander Toth mentioned she might find him in the common room.
As she hobbled down the main corridor, a faint, comforting aroma began to drift toward her. She reached the threshold of the common room and paused, taking in the scene.
The room was a joyful, chaotic mess. A long workstation was covered in flour, mixing bowls, and at least two dozen children huddled around two massive Majaki warriors wearing tiny green aprons.
Darex, covered in flour up to his elbows, was directing a line of excited children to the large stone oven. The other adults in the room, clearly amused, tried to help corral the tiny bakers.
Methic was the center of the storm. He wore a red and black checkered flannel shirt, the green apron comically tight around his immense waist. He was showing a small boy how to properly use a whisk without splattering the entire room.
His axe hung from a holder at his hip, the blade covered in a sheath.
Which was good because the little boy kept poking it.
“Mr. Methic, why do you have an axe?”
“Because I am a lumberjack. Does my uniform not give it away?” He spread his arms and indicated the flannel but the boy just looked confused.
Methic finally looked up.
Their eyes locked.
The noise of the room faded, leaving only the rushing sound in her ears. Joy lurched through her body as he strode toward her. They collided and his fingers thread into her hair as he cupped her face.
“Jeneva?”
Swallowing hard, she held up the papers.
“I’m official. I can stay.”
Lifting her off her feet, he swung her in a circle before holding her tightly against him.
“You’re covered in flour,” she finally chuckled.
He released her. “I have made something for you.”
Taking her hand, he lead her to a table lined with a variety of small pies. “The children grew pump-kins in the colony garden and there were real Earth spices in the kitchens.”
She pressed a hand to her chest. “This is real pumpkin pie?”
He picked one up. “I made this one myself. The crust is not hard as stone. It is flaky, Jeneva! Flaky!”
Overcome with happiness, she hugged him so abruptly that he set down the pie.
“Commander Toth even gave me a list of jobs, too. Including teaching art classes right here for the children.”
“It appears you have found your new purpose. You had such a desire to change your life that you sneaked onto a spacecraft to come here, faced opposition, and terrifying predators. You fought your fears while honoring your limitations, and now, you are the seedling.” He lowered his head, his lips brushing her ear. “Are you ready to go home?”
“Yes! A million times yes.” She helped him untie the tiny apron, glanced at the dessert table, and smiled.
“Don’t forget to bring the pie.”