Chapter 20
ZALIS
“What are you doing here?” Zalis was pleased to see Gemma—he was always pleased—but this was not a good location for a social visit.
His duties had kept them apart. No matter how quickly he tried to complete the day’s tasks, there was also one more node needing to be rewired or a critical power supply to be replaced.
It was most disagreeable.
Gemma held up a container. “Lunch.”
Or a meal.
“Look, I haven’t seen you in forever,” she said.
“You have seen me.” Fleetingly. He returned to their quarters late at night and left early. Often, she had been asleep. When she was awake, he skipped the pleasantries and focused on sharing pleasure. The lingering taste of her on his tongue was the only way he could endure this mission.
“Call me old -fashioned, I’d like a conversation, and I thought a picnic would be nice,” Gemma said, a blush on her cheeks as if she could sense his thoughts. “Besides, you got to eat. When was the last time you had a proper meal?”
“My nutrition is adequate.”
“You deserve better than adequate. I messaged you that I was coming, by the way. If you checked your messages, you would have known I was coming.”
“Communications are unreliable underground.” Which was an issue he was meant to fix.
Zalis stared in disbelief as Gemma spread a blanket on the ground and unpacked a feast. The containers of food never stopped, each filled with delights both savory and sweet.
He recognized the sliced melons and was intrigued by the bundles wrapped in wax paper.
His mouth watered from the aroma. There were smaller bowls of various cold vegetables.
The scent of oil and vinegar tickled his nose.
Finally, Gemma pulled off the lid on a waxed cardboard box, revealing cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.
Gemma licked a bit of frosting from her thumb.
Zalis couldn’t help himself and growled.
“What? My hands are clean,” she said, her face flushed red and lowering her hand. “Fine, they were clean. I have some wipes. Hang on.” She pulled out a packet from a side pocket and cleaned her hands.
“You should not be here.”
Gemma patted the empty spot on the blanket next to her. “Are you sure your nutrition is adequate? You’re repeating yourself. Sit. Eat.”
“I mean here, in my workspace. This area is restricted.”
“And yet my security key opened the door just fine.” she replied. When Zalis did not move, she added, “It’s just lunch, Zalis.”
“You bypassed the mechanism. You do not have clearance to be here.”
She smiled in that clever and bitter way he adored and held out a forkful of the oil-and-vinegar-coated vegetables. “Cucumber and feta salad? Try some. The feta came from the matter reconstructor but it tastes alright, I think. I mean, how can you mess up anything in a salt brine?”
“The rules are for your safety. They are necessary. They are not suggestions to be ignored. There are many hazards in these tunnels. I will list them in excruciating detail—”
Gemma sighed, setting down her salad. “Fine, I hear you. I just thought an underground picnic sounded fun. Whimsical. It sounded like something you would enjoy.”
Zalis softened. “I do find it an intriguing experience.”
Her smile returned. “Right? Anyone can have a boring old picnic in a park. We get all this—” She waved a hand at the tunnel. “Dark and dank. Vanessa told me there might be a strain of glow-in-the-dark mushrooms down here and we should definitely not touch any.”
“Do not tell me how you bypassed security.”
Gemma raised and lowered a shoulder in a shrug. “I just told the two guys at the gate that I was bringing you lunch.”
Zalis lowered himself to the blanket. “I asked not to be informed. Now I must follow up on this breach of protocol.”
“Gonna lay the smackdown for this breach of protocol?”
“No one will be smacked,” he said, horrified at the notion. “Physical discipline is only effective for short term results. There are more effective ways to modify long -term behavior.”
“This is a muffuletta sandwich. I baked the bread and Emry made the olive spread. It’s delicious, if I do say so myself.” Gemma placed an object wrapped in wax paper in his hands.
The sandwich smelled intriguing, cured meat with tangy vegetables in a brine, and Gemma would not leave until he ate. There was only one course of action.
“If this is the only way to appease you, very well,” he said, unwrapping the sandwich.
GEMMA
An underground tunnel wasn’t Gemma’s top choice for a picnic, but if visiting Zalis during working hours was the only way to spend time with him, so be it. She’d throw the best damn underground cave picnic ever.
Overhead lights burned a sulfurous yellow against rough stone walls.
Water dripped somewhere, echoing in the distance.
The floor was nothing more than packed dirt.
Metal pipes ran along the walls. Construction equipment, spools of wire, and boxes were scattered throughout the space.
This place had all the ambiance of a dungeon.
“Was this part of the mines?” she asked.
“This is a utility tunnel. Many such tunnels connect the buildings.”
“Utility stuff. Is that what you’ve been doing?
” Gemma asked, pointing to a nearby bandsaw.
No one’s home went unscathed during the Invasion.
As a result, an entire generation got hands-on experience with DIY.
She knew enough to fix a leaky pipe under the sink, replace the wooden boards on the porch steps, and recognized several of the tools.
“No,” Zalis said, his tone sour. “I was meant to upgrade the network. I discovered that the existing infrastructure in this tunnel must be replaced entirely.”
“Sounds tedious.”
“I would give up my horns for a more interesting assignment.”
“It’s important,” she said, which was bland and just embarrassing.
She wanted to say, Oh, thank heavens I’m being ignored for something boring.
Wouldn’t want my ego swelling with feelings of value.
But she didn’t, because she was an adult.
Instead, she finished her sandwich without the color commentary.
Zalis reached for the cucumber salad. The movement betrayed a tear in his shirt at the shoulder seam.
“What happened there?” she asked.
“Ren happened.”
“Ren did that?”
“During the fight,” he said with a smile. Not his normal barely there grin but a wide, delighted smile like a child holding a massive ice cream cone.
“What fight?”
“The fight we had after the fire.”
“What?!” Gemma looked around for evidence of a fire.
“Be calm. This happened some days ago.”
“And you’re wearing the same ripped up shirt?”
He plucked at the fabric. “I had it cleaned.”
“You know what, wear rags for all I care. Why were you fighting with Ren?”
“Many valid reasons.” Again with the ice-cream-eating grin.
The ground shook and the world ended.
She wished she were joking.