Poor Dar. Kerry leaned toward the couch and gently pushed a bit of Dar’s hair back away from her closed eyes. She had a white cotton sling fastened around her neck, holding her injured arm close to her body, and even in sleep a tiny crease was present across her forehead. As much as Kerry appreciated Dr. Steve’s forcing Dar to take her injury seriously, it hurt her to see her lover so subdued, obviously scared and keeping silent about it.
Kerry riffled her fingers through the dark hair spilling over the pillow, straightening its silky strands as she watched Dar sleep. Then she sighed and returned her attention to the damn laptop.
So, what was all this, Dar? She scrolled through files, seeing Dar’s notations but not seeing the patterns her lover had painstakingly constructed or the significance of them in the data stream. It wasn’t that she was oblivious to the method; she just didn’t understand where Dar got the little hooks she was using to connect all the pieces together.
Maybe that was because Dar had worked on the original system software? Kerry pushed her hair back behind one ear and leaned closer Red Sky At Morning 203
to the screen. Sure, that must be it. She knew how this whole thing worked, so naturally she could...
Kerry let the thought trail off as her eyes found something.
Curiously, she left the bowels of Dar’s program and called up the associated data files, studying the personnel assignments and the ship schedules coming in and out of the base. Slowly, her forefinger lifted and touched the screen, making a little scratching noise against the LCD.
Why...she wondered. Why would one ship get all the new recruits?
Operationally, it made no sense, especially to someone steeped in day-to-day operations, as she was. You don’t put all your newbies in the same bucket, because then you have a useless bucket of confusion. You spread them out among other, more experienced workers, so they can learn from them.
Kerry looked up the operational record of the craft in question, a supply ship that apparently worked with larger groups of vessels but was small enough to dock in small ports. Slowly, she picked up her cup and took another sip, not taking her eyes from the screen.
DAR BECAME VAGUELY aware of her surroundings, the medicated sleep still having a fairly firm hold on her. There was a slightly tinny quality to the sounds she was hearing, and she had no inclination to open her eyes.
Her shoulder ached, but it was a far-off kind of ache, and it took several minutes for her to sort through a very foggy mind and remember what had happened. Oh yeah. Dar wondered if the medication was supposed to make her feel so completely washed out.
A soft clicking was coming from nearby, and she heard a faint sound of ceramic on wood, then a sigh and the shift of a body against a leather surface. Dar spent a moment drawing a mental picture, imagining Kerry in the chair with the laptop. Very slowly, she opened one eye, then turned her head and blinked, the image in her mind resolving into reality.
Kerry was intent on the screen, her brow furrowed and the end of a pencil being gnawed on between her teeth.
For some reason, that made Dar smile.
After a second, Kerry looked up and their eyes met. “Oh.” She put the machine down and leaned on the chair arm. “Was I making too much noise?”
“No.” Dar cleared her throat. “Wow. I feel like I’m swimming in clam chowder.”
A blonde brow arched. “Clam chowder? Ew.”
“What time is it?”
Kerry checked the laptop’s system tray. “Two.” She studied her injured partner. “Here, take a sip of this; you look dry.” She handed 204 Melissa Good over her tea, then paused and changed her mind, getting up out of the chair to hold the cup for Dar to sip from. “I forgot how awkward it is when you’re wearing one of these.” Her free hand plucked the sling.
Dar sucked thirstily at the tea, enjoying the sweet taste. “Glad you put some tea leaves in this sugar water,” she teased.
Kerry stuck out her tongue. “It’s your fault,” she accused Dar. “I didn’t used to.” She leaned over and kissed her partner on the lips.
“Want some of your own? I was going to put some soup up.”
“Soup?” Dar felt a little more alert. “Was that inspired by my chowder, or do you think a bone bruise requires that for healing?”
Firmly, she pushed aside thoughts of clots, halfway convinced she’d have been better off just letting the damn thing heal on its own, with her in blissful ignorance of her risk.
“Hon, I’ll order in baby back ribs if you want them.” Kerry laughed. “I’m hungry, and I’ve got a container of that spicy Thai soup in the fridge, so...”
Dar’s eyes lit up. “With the coconut milk?”
“Uh-huh.” Kerry had to muffle a smile. “That changes things, hmm?” She ruffled Dar’s hair. “I need a break anyway. I found something I think you need to look at when you’re a little more awake.”
She made her way past the coffee table toward the kitchen.
Dar knew she should get up and look at the computer, but the drugs still had a tight hold on her, and her body was more than content to remain where it was. Probably so fuzzy I wouldn’t know what the hell I was looking at anyway, she mocked herself. But the thought started her mind churning over the problems she’d seen the day before.
As if on signal, her cell phone rang. However, since Dar was dressed in a pair of soft gym shorts and not much else, she didn’t have the phone near her. “Hey, Ker?”
“I hear it.” Kerry came trotting out of the kitchen sucking on a wooden spoon. “Ooh...you’re gonna like this. There’s more chicken than vegetables in it.” She picked up the buzzing phone and opened it.
“Hello?”
“Is that Roberts?” a female voice asked crisply.
“No.” Kerry glanced at her lover. “Can I ask who’s calling?”
There was a brief silence. “Chief Daniel.”
Ooh...Kerry narrowed her eyes. The bulldog. “She’s—”
The chief interrupted Kerry. “Look. I need to talk to her. Just tell her who it is. Believe me, lady, I wouldn’t be on this phone if I didn’t need to be.”
Hmm. Fair enough. “It’s that petty person,” she told Dar, after muting the phone.
Dar’s brows lifted. “Chief Daniel?” she asked in surprise. “Damn.
Give me the phone.”
Kerry walked over and handed it to her, then knelt and helped Dar to sit up a little. “Easy,” she murmured.
Red Sky At Morning 205
Dar’s head spun for a minute, and she waited for the buzz to fade, then held the phone to her ear. “Hello, Chief.”
“Roberts.”
“Yep, that’s me,” Dar agreed. “Did you miss me so much you had to call on a Saturday?”
“Roberts, just shut up a minute.” The chief lowered her voice. “All crap aside, there’s something here you need to see.”
A prickle went up Dar’s back. “Like what?” she said.
A distinct hesitation made itself felt. “I can’t explain it,” the chief said.
“Bad enough I’m dealing with the devil, as it is. Just get down here.”
Dar met Kerry’s gaze. The blonde woman was shaking her head no, in a very serious way. “I can’t,” she finally replied. “If you want me to know about it, you’ve got to come up here.”
“What?” the chief hissed. “Don’t be a— Jesus, I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m trying to help you out here, damn it.”
“I know.” Dar decided to try honesty. “I had an accident last night, Chief. I’m not driving to the base, so if you’ve got something that big, get moving.”