Tethers Page 8

  He took three of the vials out and held them in his hand. He nudged the cabinet door shut and closed his fingers around the morphine.

  “What are you doing?”

  Eric turned, startled, jerking his hand behind his hip. “Jerica, you scared me.”

  The little girl looked at him, curious, unable to figure out what he was up to. She didn’t know about his addiction to morphine. He tucked the vials into the hip pocket of his flight suit. “Did you and Frank switch stuff around in here? I can’t find the aspirin.”

  Jerica nodded. “Earlier today. So stuff we use the most is easier to find.” She went over to a drawer and pulled it open. “The aspirin’s in here, now.”

  Jerica handed him a packet, and he smiled. “Thanks, kiddo.”

  “Are you better now?” she asked, and her voice was small, worried. She almost sounded like her mother. Her pinched, concerned expression was nearly identical to Kat’s. “You looked so bad when we got back this morning. And you slept for so long. I wanted to come see if you were okay, but Frank said not to bother you while you were sleeping.”

  Eric knelt in front of her, and she put her arms around his neck. Her golden curls brushed against his nose and lips, and smelled clean, vaguely floral. “You don’t ever bother me.”

  “I was worried about you.” Her breath fluttered against his ear and he realized she was on the verge of tears. “I was scared you were hurt…that your leg was hurting you. I don’t want to lose you, too, like…like Alex…and…and Doc…”

  “You’re not,” he said, and she hugged him fiercely, tightening her grip on him. “I’m here.”

  She pulled away enough to look at him. There were tears smeared on her cheeks and Eric wiped them away, like he’d wiped away her mother’s earlier. “You about ready for bed?”

  She nodded at him, her blue eyes enormous and glistening with tears. “Will you tuck me in?”

  “Sure.” He gathered her into his arms and stood. He felt the knee hinges in his left leg protest. Pain lanced up through his thigh, but he tried not to wince. Jerica wrapped her legs around his waist and snuggled her face against his shoulder.

  He carried her down the corridor. She wasn’t very heavy, maybe fifty pounds, and Eric normally hefted her around easily. But tonight, the pain in his leg came rushing back immediately, unwelcome. He struggled to control a limp, not wanting to frighten or upset Jerica.

  “Here we go,” he said quietly, reaching Kat’s room. He set her down in the bed and she curled up on her side, resting her knees against him. Her hair had fallen into her face in disheveled curls, and he smoothed them back with his hand.

  “Eric, are you scared?” she asked him in a small voice. She had her little fist poised by her mouth, as if she thought about sucking her thumb.

  “Scared of what?” It was dark in the room, the only illumination coming in from the open front door. He could see the light flash across her eyes as she looked up at him.

  “Being here. What’s going to happen to us.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to us. By now, the platform’s heard our distress signal, and someone is probably already on their way down to get us. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

  “Then why don’t they answer?” Jerica asked. “Why haven’t they called us back?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “But they’re coming—I know that. There’s no reason why they wouldn’t. They’ll be here soon. The Icarus probably hadn’t even docked all the way when our distress signal came in, and knowing your mom’s friend, Trina, they’re probably half a day away and coming in at light speed to rescue us.”

  She rolled onto her back and blinked up at him. “I hope so. I don’t like it here.”

  “Me, either.” He reached down, touching her cheek. Her warm, delicate fingers curled around his. “But we’ll get to go home soon, I promise.”

  He leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. She giggled.

  “Good night, Jerica.” He rose to his feet. It hurt to put weight down on his leg, but he forced himself to do it.

  “G’night,” she said, but she didn’t close her eyes.

  “You want me to leave the bathroom light on?”

  She nodded.

  He walked over and hit the bathroom switch. He swung the door almost all of the way closed, so that a sliver of orange light cut across the room. “How’s this?”

  “Little more.” Jerica held up her forefinger and thumb about an inch apart.

  “Here?” he asked, nudging the door with his foot.

  “Good. Thank you.”

  He leaned against the wall once he was safe out in the deserted corridor. Reaching down, he gripped his leg, splaying his fingers across the fabric of his pants and listened as the little vials of morphine clicked together quietly in his pocket.

  He limped over to one of the compound’s intercom boxes. “Hey, Kat.” He pressed the “send” button.

  After a moment, Kat’s voice came, sounding like she spoke through a tin can. “Yes, Eric? Are you on your way down?”

  “Uh, no.” He tried to rest most of his weight on his right hip. “I just put Jerica to bed. I think I’m going to head that way myself. I’m still pretty beat.”

  There was a long, quiet pause.

  “Kat, I’m sorry. If you need me, I can—”

  “That’s okay,” she interrupted. “Frank doesn’t know if he can get this working tonight or not after all. I’ll probably head off to bed myself here shortly. You go on.”

  He felt like shit. “You pissed?”

  “No,” she said, sounding amused. “Should I be?”

  Eric smiled. “See you in the morning. Tell Frank I said good night.”

  ***

  Eric stopped by the infirmary again and snooped around until he found an empty hypodermic syringe. Don’t think about what you’re doing, he told himself, pocketing both the needle and the morphine, taking them to his quarters.

  Don’t think about it, he told himself again, pulling his jumpsuit off and sitting on the edge of his bed in his T-shirt and jockeys. He stretched his left leg out and studied it. Swelling and discoloration had begun around the knee. His ankle was swelling too, but he didn’t need to look to know that. He could tell by how tight his boot lacings felt.

  Slipping his belt out of the waist of his jumpsuit, Eric looped it through the buckle. He pulled the coil over his forearm and cinched it tight. He watched a small blue knot of veins rise. He put the end of the belt strap in his mouth, holding it secure with his teeth.

  Don’t think about it. But it was funny how it all came back to him, how the junkie in him surfaced once more so easily. The junkie remembered how to poke the needle through the foil cap on the morphine just so, then to invert the vial and pull back the stopper on the syringe. He watched it fill slowly with the drug. Don’t think about what you’re doing, he thought, and it was easier that way, disassociating himself, pretending he was only an observer.

  When he’d drawn a full dose, he pulled the needle back and shook it quickly, back and forth. The junkie in him, still alive and damnably well, admired the play of light in the liquid.

  Don’t think about what you’re doing.

  He closed his eyes.

  I have to do this. I have to. It’s the only way…

  He pushed the needle into his arm, pressing the plunger in. At the same time, he loosened the strap of the belt about his arm, letting it fall from his mouth.

  The morphine hit him and he dropped the needle as his fingers went numb. His head rolled back and he stared up at the ceiling. He gasped loudly, felt the horizon side-slip. He crumpled onto his side on the bed, and lay there, trembling, riding the trip.

  He could feel the morphine coursing through his body, roaring in his ears like the ocean trapped in a conch. It fell over him like a heavy blanket, fresh out of the dryer and infused with thick, comforting heat.

  Eric closed his eyes and moaned quietly. The morphine felt so good, so really fucking good. He
could feel it eating away at the pain in his leg, chasing it back, washing it away in a numbing flood.

  The room felt like a Tilt-a-Whirl, swirling and heaving around him. He tried to raise his arm, to bring his hand up to his face, but he couldn’t seem to manage.

  It was almost as good as flying.

  The morphine swept over him, pulling urgently with its demanding fingertips, and he fainted.

  Chapter Ten

  Images flashed before Kat’s eyes, fragments like the pieces of a shattered bottle; glass shards that glittered and glistened, that sliced and cut and hurt.

  An image appeared of Kat and Alex, walking down one of the hallways aboard the Daedalus.

  She gasped, surprised, shocked. Her face grew hot and flushed as on the screen, Alex playfully pinched her ass. The Kat on the monitor whirled around, slapping at him, laughing. “Quit it!”

  “Kat?” Frank asked gently.

  They had been sitting side by side for several hours with neither of them saying much at all. Frank had been able to access the Daedalus’ drive after all, and they had been watching the ship’s video logs and security recordings.

  Kat felt a tear roll slowly down her cheek. She wiped it away fervently. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” She didn’t know to whom she was offering this—Frank or herself. “It’s just that…I mean, Alex and I…we were…”

  “I know,” he interjected kindly. “I kind of figured that out on my own.”

  Embarrassed and abashed, she started to giggle. “Well, so much for discretion.”

  “Hey, we all have needs.” He smiled at her and gave her hand a soft squeeze. “I’ll forward past this.”

  “No, no, I want to see, I want…” Kat said. I need to see this. I need to know what happened. It’s the only way I’m ever going to be able to move forward. “At least we know we’re on the right track, then. That happened on the day of the crash. That morning…I remember…”

  She watched as the image of Alex put his arms around her and tickled. On the screen, she squealed and twisted, trying to get free.

  She could remember this, all of it. It didn’t seem possible that Alex wasn’t there anymore; he wasn’t going to snuggle up with her anymore, or tickle her playfully like he was on the screen.

  “Stop it!” she heard herself say.

  Forever ago…another world ago.

  Frank searched ahead through the images. Kat saw herself at the bridge, setting the ship’s new coordinates, talking with Trina aboard the Icarus via the com link. She watched as, on-screen, Eric came in; she watched them both smiling and exchanging their playful, flirting banter, blissfully unaware of the impending disaster that was now less than an hour from occurring.

  “Here,” Kat said, as her on-screen image left the bridge and the doors closed behind her. The monitor showed only Eric, sitting alone in the bridge. The lights were dimmed, and he had his feet propped up on one of the consoles. “Play it from here, Frank. This must be about when it happened. Eric had bridge duty.”

  They watched Eric for a few minutes, and then he looked up as the bridge doors slid open and Leia walked in. “Hi.”

  “Hey.” Eric swung his legs down from the console and rose to his feet. “What’s up?”

  “Not a whole lot.” Leia stood near him, leaning back and resting against the corner of the console. “Having fun yet?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Eric uttered a nervous-sounding laugh.

  Leia reached out and touched his hair. He flinched away from her. “You shouldn’t be up here. I’ve got stuff I need to be doing…”

  “Oh, really?” Leia stepped close to him again and leaned forward. “That’s funny. So do I.”

  “Don’t…” he murmured, trying to duck away from her as she brushed his hair aside to kiss his neck. Undeterred, Leia stepped even closer against him and her hand slowly, deliberately slid down Eric’s chest and dropped between his legs.

  “Here’s what I need to be doing.”

  Kat watched in startled disbelief. It wasn’t that she couldn’t believe that Leia and Eric might have had a fling aboard the Daedalus, even though the idea of this left the pit of her stomach feeling twisted. Eric was handsome; Leia was pretty. Neither of them was blind, and both were single. It made sense.

  Why didn’t he ever say anything to me about it? That’s what bothered her the most, or so she told herself. Eric knew about her and Alex. He’d always known, for as long as he and Kat had been friends. That he might have been sexually involved with Leia, but not trusted Kat enough to confide in her about it hurt her feelings.

  “Leia, stop,” Eric said on screen, as she began to move her hand rhythmically against him.

  “That’s not what you told me last night.” She smiled as Eric gasped at her touch. Her lips found his throat again, the pace of her hand growing quick and insistent. “Or the night before in the cargo hold…the morning before that in the rec room…my quarters…your quarters…the tech lab…”

  He groaned, draping his hands against her shoulders. “Leia, stop,” he whispered again, breathlessly. “Leia…please…”

  “Now that’s what you said.” Leia’s smile widened as she lowered herself to her knees in front of him, moving to unfasten the fly of his pants and let her mouth take the place of her hand. “That’s what you—”

  Eric pushed her away, staggering back from her. “I said stop.”

  She blinked at him in startled confusion. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I can’t do this anymore,” he said, struggling to reclaim his breath. He stumbled back further, widening the distance between them. “It’s over, all right? I can’t…I don’t want to anymore.”

  The confusion in her face deepened, and then shifted toward humiliated outrage. “What do you mean, you don’t want to anymore? For two weeks now, you haven’t been able to get enough. Now, all of a sudden, it’s over? We’ve got five years out here. Where else do you think you’re going to get any?”

  He shook his head and said nothing, turning away from her, running his fingers through his hair. “Just go away, Leia.”

  She uttered a sharp, angry laugh. “What, are you going gay on me? You think Xian or Franklin is going to go down on you for some variety? Or what? You going to make a play for Kat? You’re not that stupid, I know.”

  He turned to her, his brows narrowed. “Get out of here, Leia.”

  Her eyes flew wide and she laughed again. “Oh, my God,” she said. “You are that fucking stupid, aren’t you? I should’ve known. I’ve seen the way you watch her, all moon-eyed and goof-ass. Good luck, Eric. Kat’s wrapped so tight around Alex’s cock, she wouldn’t do you if—”

  Eric hauled off and smacked her across the face. Hard. Kat could hear the reverberating slap clearly.

  On screen, Leia touched the side of her jaw.

  “Get out of here, Leia,” Eric seethed. “Get the fuck off my bridge.”

  Leia gasped softly, the sound choked as if with tears. “You asshole.” She spun around on her heel and stomped off.

  Frank stopped the image and began to rewind it.

  “What’re you…?” Kat began.

  “Watch,” Frank said quietly. “Here. See?”

  He let the disc play.

  “What, are you going gay on me?” Leia was saying again.

  “What am I looking for, Frank?” Kat asked.

  “Here.” Frank rewound the image again, frame by frame. “Right here.”

  He pointed, and she watched a small red light flash on the console of the bridge. “See that?”

  Kat nodded, suddenly realizing. She felt the color rise in her cheeks in two hot, angry patches.

  “What was that?” Frank glanced at her. “Was it…do you think…?”

  “I know it was.” She stormed for the door.

  “Kat, what are you—?”

  “I’ll be right back, Frank,” she said, and she was gone.

  Chapter Eleven

  She opened Eric’s door and flicked the light switch. Brill
iant white fluorescents filled the room with bright light. Eric was sleeping and didn’t stir.

  “Wake up,” she said, her voice trembling angrily. “Goddammit, get up!”

  She grabbed a bar of soap off the rim of his sink and hurled it at him. It hit him in the shoulder, and he woke up, startled, bewildered.

  “What the hell…?” he said, sitting up, blinking stupidly. He pushed his hair out of his face. “Kat, what’re you—?”

  “Shut up,” she snapped at him. “What is it you told me? ‘I keep replaying it over and over again in my head, Kat, and I just can’t seem to remember anything going on in the bridge.’ That sound familiar, Eric? Nothing, sure, except for Leia going down on you.”

  His eyes widened, any last vestiges of sleepy disorientation wiped away. “What? Kat, I…I don’t…”

  “You shut up!” Kat yelled at him. “You shut your mouth, goddammit! Was Leia good, Eric? You never told me about it before, so why not start now? Was she? I sure hope so. I hope she was a damn good fuck.”

  He flinched, looking hurt and confused. “Kat, please, what are you talking about?”

  “Frank and I saw the tape just now. When you and Leia were fighting the night of the crash, fighting about you fucking her. There was an alarm light from the tech lab. Some kind of alarm Doc must have pulled and you didn’t see it.”

  Eric blinked at her, his eyes enormous, stunned. He looked like he’d just gotten punched in the stomach. “What?”

  Kat nodded. “Yeah, Eric. Doc pulled the tech lab alarm. And because you weren’t paying attention, you missed it. You son of a bitch.”

  “Kat…”

  “Fuck you, Eric. They’re dead. Alex and Doc are dead, and it’s your fault. It’s all your fault because you weren’t paying attention. Yeah, I hope Leia was a damn good fuck.”

  She was shaking, so pissed off she couldn’t think straight. She walked out of the room, her hands closed in tight, trembling fists. She wanted to hit him so badly. She had never wanted to punch anyone more in her life.