“Good.” Dev began to shiver, suddenly so cold he couldn’t keep his teeth from chattering. Kammie peeled off her gauntlets and let them drift away as she worked the controls set in the left arm of his suit. Almost at once warmth spread around him, the heat pumps obviously still functional. He felt as if he had just slid into a warm bath, the chills deep but lessening. He shut his eyes and drifted asleep, floating in a pillowed dream.
Fingertips whispered across his cheeks, gentle circles around his temples. Dev sighed, reveling in the touch. Her touch. Kammie’s touch. His life had been so wrong for so long, but everything was going to be all right now. Kammie was back. They were together, and nothing was going to pull them apart again. His left shoulder ached, but he managed to reach up with his right hand and brush hers, needing to return the touch even if his suit kept them physically apart.
His eyes opened, reality coming back in a single, unyielding flood. Kammie still hung above him, staring down at him. Her hair was tipped with ice, the temperature inside the airlock brutal, but she didn’t seem to notice, the redness of her cheeks only making her more beautiful. She had been crying, he could tell, but now she smiled.
“They’re almost here. The rescue ship, I mean.” She continued to stroke his face. “We should be out of here in an hour.”
Before he truly understood what was happening, she bent forward and kissed him. A sharp pain cut across his swollen lip, but he didn’t care, the avalanche of sensation so intense he felt as if he was being pulled apart atom by atom. She drew back, only a little, so near he could feel her warmth against his cheek.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I’ve always loved you.”
“Kammie…” He wanted to say so much, but that was the only word he seemed able to say. He tried again to speak, but she silenced him with a touch of her finger against his lip.
“I know,” she said, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “We both have other lives. But that isn’t going to change anything, is it?” She bent forward and kissed him again, her tongue flicking at his teeth, the salty flavor of her lips more addictive than morphine. Eternity broke around them, time no more real than the clouds of spent breath spreading through the icy chamber. Finally, she drew back. “I think they owed us that much, don’t you?”
Dev wished he could think of something profound to say, but settled for a nod and a sad, quiet smile as they settled back to wait.
She was in the crowd when they off-loaded, huddled near the gate with the rest of the family members, a tiny shape held back by the low metal rail. Dev saw her as he was wheeled down the gantry and waved to her, ignoring the scolding from the army of medical technicians as he stood up.
“I’m all right,” he said, ignoring the protests. He glanced to his left, noting the line of injured people coming off the Elizabeth Toland, at least half of them strapped to litters. “I can walk from here.”
He moved away from the gantry, dragging his left leg. His shoulder throbbed, but at least his headache had subsided thanks to the heavy doses of painkiller they had given him during the flight back from the now deserted tug. A padded collar chaffed around his neck, but as badly as he wanted to throw the annoying brace away, he was sure that would certainly bring the technicians pouring down on him.
Behind him, as palpable as if she held the end of a long rope tied around his stomach, he felt Kammie watching. He paused, fighting the urge to turn around, then staggered ahead once more. By the time he reached the crowd Letha had already climbed over the rail and lowered herself clumsily to the metal deck.
“Be careful.” Dev hurried as much as his aching joints would allow, horrified as Letha stumbled then recovered. She spun around to face him.
“You’re a fine one to talk.” She stared at his face. “It’s a good thing you came back alive, or I’d have killed you.” She watched him, her dark eyes questioning. Dev reached for her, but stopped. Things had to be said, and the sooner he said them the better.
“Letha, I…” His words caught in his dry throat. “There’s some things you need to know.”
“Don’t,” she whispered. Her eyes darted over his shoulder, and he had no doubt she was looking at Kammie Tule. “Please don’t say it. Not right now.”
“I have to.” He reached again for her, ignoring the pain, and pulled her to him, the clean scent of her hair masking the deeper, sour aroma of fear. Dev laid his head against hers. No explosions of sensation rushed him, no drowning flood of undiluted need, but he didn’t care.
“I love you,” he whispered, tears streaming down his face. “I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through these last couple days, and I can’t promise I won’t put you through more. But I love you. I love you so damn much. Someday, when this is all over and the baby is old enough, I want to go back to flying starships.”
“I can live with that.” Letha was crying, but managed a weak smile as she pulled away. “Now would you shut up and take me home?”
They started toward the ramp, moving slowly, hampered by her pregnancy and his injuries, both pretending not to hear the calls from the medical crew. Dev felt again the tug on his heart, but when he glanced back toward the gantry Kammie was gone. Beside him, Letha gave him a gentle shove on the small of the back. He felt a guilty blush creep over his face.
“I can tell you one thing, boyo,” she said, only half mocking as she patted her stomach. “If it’s a girl, we’re sure as hell not naming her Kammie.”
Dev smiled and leaned against his wife, letting her guide him into the corridor. “That’s fine with me,” he said. And to his surprise, it was.