When it was over I lay drained of everything, feeling her heartbeat subside slowly against my ear. We rested, but again and again in the night we were like wild animals, coming alive to the frenzy of youth and desire. When morning came at last I slept in Amanda’s arms, peaceful, comforted, sated.
Whole.
It was never so fine again. Perhaps the newness was gone; perhaps some subtle tides failed to mesh. In the stillness of the nights we came together, loving, tender, eager to satisfy.
What we gave each other was good, and pleasing. But the first night remained a loving memory, never equaled.
Derek surely knew what we were experiencing. At least he must have heard Amanda cry out. But during the daytime we were a warm and friendly threesome, enjoying each other’s company, relaxing together. Only when dark fell did the two of us shyly retreat to our haven while Derek crawled into his solitary cot.
A dawn came when, Amanda’s head resting lightly on my shoulder, I woke with sadness, knowing our togetherness was drawing to a close. Amanda stirred in her sleep. As quietly as I could I slipped out of bed, gathered my clothes and crept out of the tent.
It was bitter cold; I threw some sticks on the embers and was at last rewarded with a sputtering flame. I fed it until it provided some warmth. I put a cup of coffee in the micro and when it heated, I held it between my two hands inhaling its vapor.
Restless, I wandered beyond the edge of the campsite toward the lightening sky, found a place to sit at the crest of a hill looking down into the valley below. Sipping my blessedly hot coffee I watched a moody yellow sun hoist itself over the peaks opposite, casting roseate hues on the bleak gray of dawn. The fog in the valley below began to lift. Across the glen, an eleven-hundred-foot waterfall threw itself endlessly over the cliff into the waiting valley.
Never had I seen a place so magnificent. Dawn brightened into day. Below, a smaller falls became visible as the night mists evaporated. The greens, yellows, and blues of the foliage brightened into their daytime splendor.
I had to leave this peaceful planet, and with it, Amanda. I must sail on to Detour, return briefly to Hope Nation to board passengers, then endure the long dreary voyage home to face an unforgiving Admiralty at Lunapolis. I knew they’d never give me command again. I knew I would never again come to this place. I knew I would lose Amanda to light-years of forgetfulness.
It was my lot to be banished from paradise.
Overwhelmed by despair amid the stark beauty of the Venturas, I mourned for Sandy Wilsky, for Mr. Tuak, for Captain Malstrom, for Father lost forever in his dour hardness. For the beauty I hadn’t known and would never know again. I cursed my weakness, my pettiness, the lack of wisdom that made tragedy of my attempt to captain Hibernia.Then Amanda, sweet Amanda, came from the glade and enveloped me in her arms, caressing, hugging, rocking, lending me solace only she could give.
After a while we walked together back to the campsite, my soul clinging to the gentle warmth of her touch. Derek, wearing short pants, shirtless, was just starting off to the stream with a bar of soap. Seeing us, he went on his way, mercifully silent.
“Micky, those terrible events on Hiberniaweren’t your fault.”
I sat brooding near the firepit, waiting for the micro to heat my coffee. “No? My talent is to hurt people. I killed Tuak and Rogoff; you know it wasn’t necessary. At Miningcamp I killed the rebel Kerwin Jones and his men, yet made a deal to spare his cohorts on the station. What was the difference?” “You’re too harsh on your--”
“I was cruel to Vax for months. I sent poor Derek to the Chief to be caned for nothing at all. Even Alexi--if I’d been a better leader I wouldn’t have had to send him to the barrel.
The way I treated the Pilot I can’t even discuss. I think of them all the time, Amanda. Lord God, how I hate being clumsy and incompetent!”
“You’re not, Nicky.”
“Tell that to Sandy Wilsky.” My tone was searing.
She was silent for a time. “Must you always do everything right?”
“Not always. But I’m talking about losing my ship and killing my midshipmen and brutalizing the crew!” Again the miasma of despair closed about me.
Amanda sat near, her arm thrown across my shoulders.
“You’ve done your best. Give yourself peace.”
“I don’t know how.” I lapsed silent until Derek returned, his skin pink and briskly scrubbed.
“Man, that’s cold!” He plunged into the firesite and stood warming himself by the flames. He glanced at me with concern. “Are you all right, Mr. Seafort?”
“Fine.” With an effort I lightened my tone. “What would you people like to do today?” It was to be our last full day in Western Continent.
Over breakfast, we decided we’d hike across the valley to the waterfall. I packed my backpack and set out with the others, hoping physical exertion would help banish my melancholy.
It took only a couple of hours to descend our side of the slope. But the valley was wider than it had appeared from the heights, and we had to pick our way among fallen trunks and viny growths that fastened to every crack. At last, weary, we reached the far side of the glen. A short hike brought us to the base of the waterfall where, to our delight, a pool was hidden in the dense undergrowth. Hot and sweating I began to strip off my clothes. After a moment Amanda did likewise.
Derek hesitated, ill at ease.
“Come on, middy! It’s no different from the wardroom!”
My annoyance was evident. His shyness was from his aristocratic past, not his Navy present. Perhaps, groundside for three weeks, he’d forgotten he shared a bunkroom, head, and shower with Paula Treadwell and the other middies.
Blushing, he took off his clothes and waded in.
I’d forgotten how wonderful were simple pleasures. A cold swim after our long hot exertion had a marvelous restorative effect. We cavorted and splashed like small children until our energy was spent. Finally we dressed, had a snack from our packs, and prepared to go back.
“Hey!” Derek pointed to the ground at the pool’s edge, where a sandaled footprint was outlined in the mud.
“We’re not alone.” Amanda was crestfallen.
I said, “Just some other tourists.” They’d come to see the spectacular waterfall, as we had.
“We didn’t see anyone.”
“They’re not here now,” I said impatiently. “Who knows how long ago they left that footprint?”
Derek stared at the mud. His voice was quiet. “It rained hard two nights ago.” The hairs rose on the back of my neck as my imagination brought forth an alien creature sipping water from this very pool. Then I laughed at my foolishness.
Aliens wouldn’t wear sandals like our own.
“So, someone else is around,” I said. It didn’t matter.
Derek jumped up with enthusiasm. “I’ll bet they’re down there!” He pointed to a wooded area past an open field farther down the valley. “Let’s find them!”
I didn’t want to disturb the other group’s privacy, but I had little choice but to follow unless I asserted my authority and demanded that we turn back. My sour mood returned. We scrambled across rocks and through broad-leaved vines until we reached the thicket. We walked along the edge of the field toward the woods.
“Good heavens, that’s com!” Amanda stopped to examine it. Several rows of stalks stood above low-lying vegetation that covered the meadow.
“It can’t be; there’s no native corn.”
“Don’t tell me about corn, Nicky.”
Ignoring our conversation, Derek ran ahead, out of sight.
“Wait,” I called, to no avail. Uneasy, I hurried after him.
“Let’s go, Amanda.”
I stopped so suddenly she caromed into me. Derek, his hands raised, backed slowly away from a ragged man waving a laser. “All of you! Stay right there!” The scarecrow waved his arm back and forth between Derek and the two of us.
Casually, I stepped between Amanda and the laser. The man’s eyes darted among us. Deeply tanned, he wore cutoff pants with ragged edges.