Chapter 5 #2
Demeter’s voice chimed in his ear. Leonus, the details of the Treaty stipulate—
“I don’t care if it’s classified!” he said loud enough for all to hear. “What will they do? Strip me of my ship? My rank? Exile me again? We were forced to come and none of us are prepared. Lying about it won’t help.”
Silence fell like a curtain. The wind off the artificial sea ruffled his shirt.
“Now,” Leo said more quietly. “Anyone?”
For a long moment, nothing. Then Alexis Varin, a fighter pilot so bold the Terrans specified her by name for the Demeter—rose, urged by her Venusian match.
“There’s a sea on Luna Two, sir,” she said. “And my Verex here—she studies water and wind. We think we’ll sail. Maybe fish, if a Terran can teach us. Demeter says spacers once sailed ships on water. We could learn here on this sea maybe.”
Leo blinked. Ships… on water. The image seemed absurd, magnificent. Conversations rippled through the crowd.
Then more hands went up. Three medics announced they would open a clinic here in Sea Town; as the ship medical was all the way by the waterfall.
A fiery Terran matched to a Centurion twice her size offered to teach–something about cheese–to anyone who wanted.
Even the Matches who’d arrived uncertain began arguing cheerfully about who could trade labor for supplies.
The noise, the movement, the life—something unknotted in his chest.
The dilution of a group into individuals who are known and loved is the best defense against tribalism. Demeter’s voice sounded delighted.
“Until we make new tribes,” Leo said.
We will cross that bridge when we get to it, Demeter replied. I am pleased with your plan. I will not inform Fleet about leaking classified information.
“How kind,” Leo muttered.
The crowd dispersed in laughter and motion. Bots came online; drones rose humming over the square. Demeter offered cheerful suggestions about where to place the new clinic, the potential docks, a public bath. Why not? Three years to figure it out, as his Match had said.
Leonus didn’t quite know why his feet carried him to the edge of the plaza, to the legionnaire hall overlooking the ocean.
Maybe it was the smell of salt and stone dust, or the echo of that woman’s voice talking about ships.
He rolled up his sleeves and set the bot to shaping beams into a broad, shaded structure with a long counter.
By the time the sun display dipped toward evening, his back ached and his hands were splintered, but the skeleton of the building stood upright.
“Fido?”
He turned. Cassius was climbing the steps, a basket hooked on one arm. The smell of bread and roasted vegetables made Leo’s stomach growl.
“I am hearing gossip all over the ship!The Lion of Mars is running bots and hammering nails,” Cassius said, smiling.
“Like all scuttlebutt, it’s completely true,” Leo said, taking the hamper. Suddenly shy, he fussed with the bowls as Cass wandered, running his hands over the walls and peering around the corners. “I don’t know much about buildings, but I thought a place to sit after work might improve morale,”
“It’ll do more than that!” Cass said. “It will bring people together.”
Leo’s heart stirred. Remembering the Legionnaire halls again.
“Tell me truthfully,” Leo said. “Never mind my feelings—would you have said yes to me in a different setting? If we met in some taverna let’s say?”
Cass laughed, clambered over Leo’s lap, knocking the empty bowls aside. Leo braced himself, instinct closing his hands over Cass’s hips. This man…
“In a different setting?” Cass said, his voice low .
“I’d have made a fool of myself to catch your eye.
” Rapture, an absolute explosion of joy heated Leonus crown to toes.
Before he could answer, Cass snaked his arms around his neck and kissed him.
A curry-spiced burning kiss. Rude and bossy as usual.
“At one of your victory parties, maybe,” Cass murmured.
“Thank you for winning Phobos and saving—”
Leo jerked back.
“I didn’t win Phobos.” The words burst out of him.
“Are you sure?” Cass asked, still playful. Unaware of the cracking ground in Leo’s chest. “I am nearly certain it was you on the vids: tall, unsmiling—“
“I didn’t win Phobos!” Leo yanked backwards, the dust in his nose suddenly intolerable. He tried to scrub it away, sweat prickling his back.
“Of course you did!” Cass’s laughter had a strange, tinny quality.
“No!” Leo pushed to his feet.
Phobos. Ash, dust, cordite, the rising tidal wave of earth rolled toward them in silence–too loud for human ears–his mouthful of blood and dust…
The words came before he could stop them. Loosened by exhaustion, and the novelty of having someone new to talk to perhaps.
Cass gaped up at him from the floor. Didn’t he see?
“They put me on the ship,” Leo said. “I couldn’t speak, you see.
I couldn’t tell them to leave me and save one of those men.
And they died-they jumped off the transport-we were too heavy-they jumped off one, by one, by one until the bird flew.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. Our ship barely escaped and the news of the victory was already coming.
But we left those men to die and I just lay there while they jumped. I had no more say in Phobos than–”
Cassius stop him! His heart rate is too high. Demeter’s voice cut over his heaving breath. The curry threatening to come up. Leo stumbled over to the edge of the terrace and dropped to his knees.
“Hey now,” Cassius said gently, appearing at his side. “Hey hey- Leonus, come to me, now. You’re on the Demeter.”
“Cassius.” Leonus cleared his throat looked at his hands and unclasped them with a wince. Woozy, he pushed himself off his knees. Shame waited in the wings—grabbed him as soon as he drew breath. What will he think of me?
“I apologize. I cannot–” he cleared his throat again. “Gods, that was embarrassing.”
Brushing this off with a wave, Cass dug into his carry all and pulled out a wide cloth, warm from the pots of food.
“Sit still,” he snapped and pulled at Leo’s shirt, soaked to a humiliating degree. The quiet sounds of the square reasserted themselves as his breathing slowed.
“Bossy earthling,” Leo muttered. He let his eyes sag closed as Cassius scrubbed his face, neck, wiping the sweat and dust off of him, almost too rough, exactly the kind of business-like Terran care Leo was starting to crave.
“Better?”
“Yes, thank you.” Much better. Allowing himself this intimacy, despite the horrors he’d blasted into their soft night, felt downright luxurious. He isn’t fazed. He takes care. My Match.
The evening air smelled of warm stone and the first cooked meals from the new kitchens. Someone was singing, Venusin by cadence, other voices joining in. Strings of lights zig-zagged over the square, and for the first time it looked like a place.
They climbed the path to their quarters in peaceful silence. Drained, physically and emotionally, Leo would probably sleep like the dead tonight. With his rude little fox, and a project to work on… Was this optimism? He’d built something, a powerful reversal of his role. And he felt… Optimism.