Bergen huffed. Why didn’t the idiots just go inside and leave him alone with Jane?
Jane said, “We do have to go back to the capsule—but not to leave. We have send a transmission to Mission Control, as soon as possible. I have to tell them everything Ei’Brai told me, everything we know, in case we don’t make it back. The future of Earth may depend on this information. They’ll be ready, then, when they send the Bravo mission. They’ll be able to protect themselves. We have to give them a fighting chance.”
He nodded slowly, agreeing with her. “Ok. How do you want to handle that?”
“I think…oh, God, this is awful.” She had her hands clasped together and she ran the knuckles of her thumbs up and down her forehead from the bridge of her nose to her hairline, rhythmically. “I thought Walsh understood, that he could see the value, the potential. But everything’s changed. Now I can see that won’t work. Walsh—I suspect, from the moment I first lost consciousness—has decided I’m unfit.”
She met his eyes, seeking confirmation. He gave it. She was right.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ll pretend to go along with Walsh’s wishes. It’ll be easier that way. Ajaya will be with us. She knows what’s at stake. We just have to figure out where Ron’s loyalties lie, without tipping Walsh off. We have to know if he’ll fight us, or help us with Walsh. If we have to, we’ll use a weapon.” She swallowed and looked panicked for a moment, but quickly concealed that. “Then we’ll find a laboratory. We have to try to solve this. I want to go home.”
“Me too.”
He was painfully aware that this moment might be the only chance they would ever have to be together in any sense whatsoever, now. He snuck his arm behind her and she leaned against him, the top of her head against his cheek. He swallowed thickly. He still didn’t have any idea if she felt the same way. It seemed like maybe she did. Or was this just friendship to her?
“Are you…do you feel normal?” she murmured.
“I feel fine.” He did. He couldn’t sense anything out of the ordinary happening. If the disease was doing anything to him, he was blissfully unaware of it.
“I do too. Walsh and Ajaya seem a little different to me, though. Ajaya doesn’t lose her temper. Ever. She just yelled at Walsh. And Walsh….”
“Yeah. I noticed.”
“I’m sorry, Alan. You seem different too.” Her voice broke.
He squeezed her tighter. She thought he was doing this because of some germ? “No. I’m fine. I’m telling you, I’m thinking clearly. I’m ok.”
She moved slightly, glancing at him then back down. “Ok. I just…Alan, it’s not like you, it doesn’t seem like it’s in your personality to believe the kind of things I’ve been saying. I just, I would expect you to be more skeptical. It’s scaring me a little bit.”
“You’ve presented plenty of evidence, Jane. It’s fucked up. It’s weird. But, I believe you’re communicating with him.”
“I know, but it seems to me that you would be more likely to side with Walsh in this.”
“No. I trust you. I trust your instincts.”
“But why? Walsh has more experience—he’s done tours in Afghanistan and Iraq. He’s been in tight spots before. He’s a good leader. He’s a hero. I’m not anything like him.”
“He was following orders. He had military training to rely on. But you didn’t have any kind of backup when you were tromping through the jungle, trying to survive. You didn’t have anything or anyone to depend on except your wits and your gut. That’s what got NASA’s attention, Jane. It’s why they wanted you to lead this mission. It’s why I’ll follow you to hell if I have to.”
He was thinking specifically about an essay Jane had written about her experience in the Amazon, in which she’d described how she’d been searching for water, in a febrile state, unaware, that after uncounted days of wandering, encountering one bizarre, dangerous situation after another, she and her companions had wandered fairly near a paved road. She encountered a woman washing clothes beside a stream.
The woman was mistrustful, had never seen a person with blonde hair before. Bergen was pretty sure most people in such a dire situation would have just prostrated themselves, begging, when they finally found another human being that wasn’t immediately hostile. Somehow Jane knew that would just scare her away. Instead she’d calmly sat down some distance from her, quietly asking questions to determine if they shared a language in common. When they settled on some kind of pidgin version of Portuguese, she didn’t ask for help or food; she complimented the woman’s infant and offered to help her with her chore.
When the woman left, Jane laid down next to the stream to gather strength before returning to her companions with the hopeful news that they were near a village that might be sympathetic to their plight. She awoke surrounded by native men, who, after a few confusing hours of propositions, bitter cups of local tea, and the first food she’d eaten in days, led her to the road and salvation.
Jane sat up, searching his face in the dim light. He reached out to stroke his thumb slowly over her cheek, and leaned in to kiss her. She stiffened. Her lips were lifeless under his.
He was taken aback, suddenly insecure about his instincts. He’d felt certain, in that moment, that he’d felt something from her, some kind of encouragement.
He pulled back, mumbling an awkward apology, when he felt her fingertips on his face, in his hair, and suddenly she was kissing him back, fervently. His stomach tightened in response and his pulse raced. He turned her, slightly, so that he was hunched over her, shielding her. If the others glanced at them, they might wonder, but it wouldn’t be obvious, he didn’t think.
He touched his tongue to her lips, a question. She opened to him, deepening the kiss, their tongues smoothly flowing around each other. He wanted it to escalate. He ached for more of her. He wanted to pretend they were alone, safe, that they had all the time they could want. He imagined his hand moving to her zipper, slipping inside her flight suit….
But she ended it far before he was ready. She pressed her forehead to his, exhaling raggedly.
“Distracting ourselves like this could be dangerous,” she whispered.
“I don’t care. I want you, Jane.” His voice sounded hoarse. His hand was tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck, keeping pressure on her, keeping her close.
A choked laugh escaped from her. “I’m beginning to comprehend that.”
“Do you—”
She laid a hand over his pounding heart. Her voice was resolute. “We can’t do this now.”
He was surprised by how much that hurt. He’d never done this before—confessed, tried to make something real happen. But this wasn’t a rejection, exactly. It was more like a deferral.
So, that’s how it would be. Survival would be a prerequisite. Well, then they were damn well going to survive this.
“The old carrot, huh?” he said ruefully.
“Did you mean it when you said you would follow me to hell?” She was pulling on his arm, forcing him to release his grip on her. He lowered his hand reluctantly and she put some distance between them.
She gave him a small concession. She wrapped her fingers gently around his and squeezed. His hand still hurt, but he didn’t care.
“Yes.”
“Good. This isn’t going to be easy, especially with Compton the way he is and Walsh….” She trailed off and her expression glazed over.
He panicked and clutched at her arm, but she snapped out of it. “Jane? What just happened?”
“I don’t know if I can explain it, adequately. There’s a place, inside my mind, that’s plugged into him. Each hour that goes by, I’m closer to him, and, by extension, the ship. The download he gave me was part of that. It fits like puzzle pieces in my mind. It’s a kind of awareness—like knowing that someone you care about is there next to you, without having to look or speak. It’s getting easier and easier to hear him. I’m vaguely aware of his thoughts, some of them, anyway, in real time. It’s scary. But….” Her breath hitched. She stopped looking at him, staring instead at her hand, twined with his, in her lap.