Chapter 51
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Evelyn had always been fond of transitional spaces.
The in-betweens of life. Spaceports. Roadtrips.
The training montage in an action movie.
Usually, the end of a thing just made you depressed.
Nothing was worse than finishing a series.
Evelyn often wouldn’t watch the last episode of a show she really loved.
It was the journey where people found the most joy.
At least, that’s what Evelyn thought. The next few days spent in such a state were some of the happiest of her life.
She was jumping through some considerable mental hoops to not focus on the end they were slowly working toward. Finality was not for her. So instead of moping that her life as she knew it was about to change forever, she became determined to be present every moment she had left on the Dawn.
She ate too much at dinner, enjoying Elenor and Lillian’s incredible meals. She played cards with Veselko and lost every chip she wagered, and then watched Veronique clean him out. Cairn was teaching her how to care for the saplings he’d acquired after she’d eaten his previous garden.
At night, Aiden fucked her brains out.
In the mornings, he fed her hand-cut fruit and coffee.
Evelyn was very satisfied living in this transitional state.
She practiced her talent, both alone and with Aiden.
Evelyn had talked herself into letting him help her psychic experiments.
If she had her way, they’d lock themselves in their quarters with a stack of movies and endless sacks of microwave popcorn and not come out again until the heat death of the universe, or at least until she was satisfied he was completely healed.
He’d eventually caught her checking his heart was beating while they were supposed to be sleeping. Again.
“I’m fine, dollface, I promise. I’m not going to do something stupid that takes me away from you. I’m never leaving you alone again, if I can help it.” He’d dragged her face off his chest to look her in the eyes. “Assuming you want me to, that is.”
“Okay,” she managed, a flush creeping into her cheeks. She wondered if she’d ever get over how damn direct the man was.
Exposure therapy. Give it fifteen, twenty years.
“I’ll take it.”
Evelyn had accepted that she wasn’t going to get her way on this one.
Like it or not, she had to let Aiden get back on the horse, no matter how much she wanted to protect him from another burnout.
She had to face that she’d irrevocably altered his psychic makeup, and that was now one more weapon in their arsenal.
Their experimentations had led Evelyn to believe that long-distance Amplification would only work with Aiden.
He had simply been too inundated with the energy; anyone else she’d have to continue to make physical contact with.
The energy wanted to go to him, and when she was in her mind palace, she opened her tank, and it flowed to him with barely any encouragement on her part.
They’d increased the physical distance they stood at while she tried to Amplify his telekinesis, and she could manage to send the energy to him from halfway across the Dawn.
Evelyn woke up to Aiden gently wiggling her foot. Coffee scented the air in their quarters. She stretched, smiled, and sleepily bade him good morning.
“Sleep well, dollface?”
“Mmm. You?” She sipped her coffee. She would manage more syllables after she’d downed a cup.
Aiden had returned to his side of the bed with his own drink.
He’d already dressed for the day, faded jeans that hugged his butt just so, and an ancient T-shirt from some sporting event or other.
Evelyn almost always mixed up the ones with more than one ball.
They sat in companionable silence as Evelyn got her faculties in order.
“I’m going to miss this,” she said.
“Why’s that?”
She shrugged. “Everything changes. If we pull this whole coup off —”
“When, not if.”
“When,” she agreed. “Things will change. It’s sort of the point. And I’ll miss this.”
“Hmm. I suppose I’ll have to order another espresso machine,” he said. “Who knows what they’re working with on the ground. Emil probably drinks instant coffee.” Aiden grimaced and sipped his coffee.
Evelyn shook her head and finished her drink.
She wished she could bottle his borderline delusional confidence that everything would work out fine.
And she wasn’t ready to touch the idea of him moving a fucking espresso machine into the Tanalian court with a ten-foot pole without the benefit of alcohol in her system.
Evelyn was still convinced he was going to change his mind and leave the moment reality set in and he realized she was about to be responsible for an entire planet.
This probably wasn’t fair of her, but insecurities were rarely rational things.
She was on her last swallow of liquid when there was a knock at the door. She cringed.
Shit. Shit shit shit.
“Today’s the day, huh?” Aiden asked as he headed to the door. Evelyn nodded. He released the latching mechanism, and Veronique bounced into the room. Nannette followed behind her with a more subdued gait.
“Good morning, my lovelies. Are you ready for your on-camera debut? Well, obviously not. You’re still in your pajamas.
But are you emotionally ready? No, how could you be?
” Veronique was a bouncing ball of cheer.
She flitted around the room, draping a garment bag over a chair, dropping an alarmingly large tackle box on the coffee table, and examined her own cascade of glossy curls in the mirror.
“Yeah, is one ever really emotionally ready to declare that they’re kicking their old man out of office and seizing power?” Nannette crossed straight to the end of the bed and flopped down on it. Her head grazed Evelyn’s foot on the way down. Evelyn gave Nannette a gentle pat with it.
“It does seem to be an activity one just has to jump into,” she said. “Like skydiving.”
Aiden drummed a sting with his hands on the top of the dresser. He handed Evelyn her cardigan and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “You kids have fun. I have to go run an errand with Cairn.”
“Be careful,” Evelyn said. The whole crew had been on high alert.
All their usual stops had been skipped, save refueling.
Elenor had passed on several contracts and had canceled the trips they had planned, citing engine trouble.
Evelyn had been a little sad that they had passed on transporting a shipment of llamas, but Elenor assured her that the excitement of riding around in a mobile petting zoo wore off two days into hauling livestock.
“We will be,” Aiden said. He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Just picking up some necessities. The order’s all ready to be loaded into the jump ship.”
“If you let Cairn bring back one more monstera from that nursery, I shall scream,” Veronique said. “He’s doubled the number since he started replacing plants. Talk him into a different species.”
“Will do. Knock ’em dead, dollface.”
“So,” Evelyn said once Aiden had walked out. She gestured to the box on the coffee table. “What instruments of torture do you have in there?”
“The essentials. Basic makeup, save your base shade as you’re far more fair than I am; hair supplies; a copy of your script; chocolates; and a flask of vodka in case your nerves completely get the better of you and we have to adjust.”
“She left the thumb screws in her other supply kit,” Nannette said. She was still staring at the ceiling. Evelyn nudged her with her foot again.
“Stop thinking about the vision,” she said. “It’s not good for you.”
“I keep oscillating between scenarios. It’s a hamster wheel of terrible ideas up here,” Nannette said, poking at her forehead. “I just have all the worst outcomes I can imagine on a loop.”
Veronique threw a hairbrush at her. Nannette batted it out of the way with her poking hand.
“You need to help me braid Evelyn’s hair. You’re the only one who can do those complicated crowns. I need her hair to say, ‘regal, but feminine.’”
Nannette grumbled as she got up. “I can catastrophize and plait at the same time. How do you think I got so good at it?”
Evelyn got up and went to wash her face.
After brushing her teeth, she fished her foundation and hairbrush out of a drawer and brought them back with her into the bedroom.
There was now a staggering number of makeup brushes spread on the coffee table with surgical precision.
She wasn’t sure she even knew what half of them did.
A bright lamp had appeared from the bowels of the tackle box, and Veronique was setting it up.
Nannette was unwrapping a chocolate. She had moved from the bed to one of the easy chairs, her feet neatly tucked up under her butt.
There was a towering stack of wrappers next to her on the side table.
“Have you been following all these scenarios all the way to the end?” Evelyn asked.
“No,” Nannette said around a mouthful of chocolate. “I just jump from one to the next.”
“Well, pick one. What happens if the bad scenario comes to pass? You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to. Just think it all the way through. What happens? And then what can be done about it?”
Nannette frowned. “That’s very reasonable.”
Evelyn shrugged. “Something Corrie taught me when I was a kid and terrified of presentations. Granted, the likelihood that my class would all rally to kill me with sticks is probably far less probable than whatever you’re imagining, but still. It can help break the terror loop.”
“Children are vicious,” Veronique said. She gestured to the other chair. “Sit here, and we can double-team you.”
Evelyn snorted and sat down. She handed her foundation to Veronique. “Do your worst,” she said. “I can take it.”
Veronique wiggled her eyebrows. “I bet you can, darling. Now, be a good girl and sit still.”