24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Grace

Grace didn't want to sleep. There was too much fear she'd wake up and find it had all been a dream. Especially now that all her friends were safe with her on Progress.

She could hear Riff and Sima talking with quiet intensity about something. Beyond them, she could hear Decard's incredibly loud snores. The sounds were familiar and comforting, but they didn't mean she'd made it out of the tent or off Dandilow II.

Only Merrick's body pressed against hers said she'd truly escaped.

"How are you alive?" she whispered. "We heard Maltive was destroyed during the Red Sun Offensive."

"It was, but we all left long before they got there," he explained. "Our supervisor was told to take the tools and equipment and leave us behind if there wasn't room on the shuttles. Thankfully she didn't listen to the company."

She could hear the smirk in his voice and chuckled. "I bet that pissed off the company."

"Probably, but the Delorta aren't ones to abandon the living in favor of inanimate objects."

It took her a moment, but then she remembered that Delorta believed doing any evil or unkind act took weight away from their soul, leading to a bad afterlife. It made them some of the most trustworthy species in the universe but also a liability for companies that didn't have the same values. They didn't steal, but they also wouldn't obey unsafe orders.

"Well?" she pressed. "What happened after you left Maltive?"

She might not be able to see him, but his hesitation was a clear sign he was hiding something. They'd been together since they were young. She knew him as well as herself.

"Confess," she teased, hoping to encourage him with humor. "You slept with a bacet, didn't you!"

"I did not!" he protested with a half laugh. They were loud enough to make Decard grumble, turn on his side, and go back to sleep. Riff and Sima were too distracted with their conversation to notice them.

She didn't need to see any of it. After sharing a small tent with these people, she knew what the slightest sound meant! She could almost do a countdown to when Riff and Sima would stop talking and start making out.

3…2…

"I guess nothing's changed between Riff and Sima," Merrick grumbled. "They're going at it right now. There isn't even a curtain, just half a sheet covering them both."

She grinned. "They do love exhibitionism. It's their thing."

Merrick tried to laugh, but it sounded hollow. "Good to know Dandilow II didn't steal their appetite for public passion."

She chuckled, then went silent. She wasn't going to press. Merrick would start talking when he was ready.

"I thought you were dead," he said, just as she was nodding off.

Stifling a yawn, she petted the body part she could reach, his shoulder. "I know. No matter what you did, you get a free pass. You were in pain, and we do stupid things when we're in pain."

"What if I did something so profoundly dumb that you should probably divorce me and marry a rock? The rock would be smarter."

"How about I call you my rock, and we leave it at that?" she countered. "My strong husband, the rock."

"Yeah, that might be a fitting nickname for me." He let out a long breath, then started talking. "When Maltive was destroyed, it ended the contract, obviously. I was desperate to make it back to you, but when I found out about Tanash being destroyed, I lost it. My boss tried to calm me down, but I kept picking fights with the other employees and the crew of the shuttle. It was one of those long-range shuttles that have the tiny, stacked bunks, and they finally tied me up in one of the bunks."

"Oh, Merrick, you're breaking my heart. Why would you do that to yourself?"

"Do you really need to ask?"

No, she didn't. Merrick always had a self-destructive streak. She was the only thing that grounded him. Without her, there would be no reason for him to rein in the chaotic part of his personality.

"Keep going, give me all the gory details," she said. "You'll feel better after."

"Maybe," he agreed. "But I'm not sure I deserve to feel better."

"That's my call," she countered. "I'm your Gracie, remember? What do I do?"

"You keep me level when I want to tip," he mumbled. It was a phrase they'd developed to help when he was feeling unsteady. It was usually the start of a longer series of questions and answers. "Should I do our exercise?"

It felt good to fall into familiar patterns, even if they were created to deal with a negative aspect of Merrick's personality.

"Do you need to do the exercises?"

"No, I think I'm good," Merrick said after a pause. "Thanks, Grace."

"Always," she assured him. "So you were tied to a bunk, then what happened?"

"They dropped me off at Bathma station." He snorted. "‘Dropped off' sounds so polite. They docked only long enough to untie me and shove me and my tools off the shuttle."

"That's so like you, making friends all over the place," Grace joked.

"I'm a master at it," he agreed. "I should write a book. How To Totally Fuck up in Twelve Steps or Less . Step one would be ending up on a station that has a really strict policy about gambling debt."

"Oh no. You didn't!" Grace gasped. He'd never been interested in gambling before, but it was the type of activity that would draw him in during a dark time. High energy and risky.

"I did. I had a little wealth from the first pay distribution, so I left my tools at the dock and headed straight for the gaming area. I don't really remember getting there, all I remember is seeing a jak-jak game about to start."

"We used to play a simpler version of jak-jak as kids," she remembered. "You were good at it."

"No I wasn't, you let me win," he countered. "Even in the simple form, I was shit at the game. I always gave up my low jaks too quickly and never protected my high jaks."

She winced. "You were never patient enough to learn strategy games. Your strengths are in other places, like being able to focus on a task until it's done. Do you know how often I've gotten distracted while I was supposed to be tracing signal components?"

He sighed. "I know you're trying to make me feel better, but we both know you're better at almost everything than me. You never would've ended up on Bathma station in the first place."

She needed to set him straight. "Are you sure? Anyone can be self-destructive in the right setting."

He went still and sucked in a breath. "What happened?"

It was painful to remember those dark days, but it was important for Merrick to know. "When I found out Maltive was destroyed, I stopped."

"Stopped what?"

"Everything but breathing," she explained. "Everyone else had to move me around. They set up the tent. They found food. They found jobs. I would lay there and stare at whatever was in front of me. I don't know how to describe it, but it felt like I was completely numb. I could hear people talking to me, but I couldn't respond. They'd try to feed me, but I'd choke on it because I wouldn't swallow."

His arms tightened around her. "What pulled you out of it?"

"Maeve," she answered. "I was dangerously dehydrated, our money was gone, everything was stolen, and there was no medical care. Everyone was desperate but out of ideas. It was Nataly who took action. She rolled me on my back and sat me up so I leaned against her. Then she put my hands on my belly and started talking about the baby inside me. She's the one who named her Maeve. Said she'd dreamed it would be a little girl. Even described her."

"Nataly saw her?" Merrick asked.

Sometimes Nataly knew things. She didn't like to talk about it or tell anyone. There was something that happened when she was young, and Grace was sure it made the woman reluctant to act on the knowledge that would pop into her head. Thankfully she ignored that fear and talked to Grace.

"She described her in perfect detail," Grace confirmed. "Down to the tuft of hair she'd have above her forehead when she was born. As she talked, I started to feel things again. Mostly I felt sadness, but also a desperate desire to meet our child. Nataly made me realize that if I didn't start living, no one would ever get to meet Maeve."

"Thank god for Nataly," Merrick breathed. "I owe that woman so much."

"But don't you see?" Grace asked. "No matter what you did, at least you didn't try to kill our daughter like I did."

Merrick sucked in a shocked breath. "No! You can't think like that."

"But it's true," Grace said, old guilt making tears press at the back of her eyes. She was so tired of crying, but it was the one thing her body seemed eager to do even as she'd lost weight, muscles, and finally her eyesight. Throughout it all, tears were abundant.

"You were devastated," Merrick insisted. "If you had died that way, I would've blamed myself but never you. Never!"

It was good to hear him say that. She waited until she was sure she could talk without sobbing.

"Same," she whispered, annoyed when there was a catch in her voice despite her best effort. "Whatever you did, I know it wasn't you. It was a manifestation of desolation."

"Right, okay," he said with a soft, long sigh. "No more guilt for either of us. It's a waste of time."

She groped around until she found his face and cupped his cheek. "I'd like that."

He moved his head until he could kiss her palm, then took her hand in his and settled them both on his chest.

"I'd still like to know what happened on Bathma station," she murmured after a few minutes of silence. "I told you everything about Dandilow II. It's your turn."

"Oh fine," he grumbled, making her chuckle. "I played jak-jak until I lost everything."

"But you didn't stop playing?" she guessed.

"Of course not," he agreed. "They weren't going to extend credit until I agreed to sign a body contract if I couldn't pay the money back within a certain time."

"How long did you have?" she asked.

"I don't remember," he admitted. "I was in the gaming den for a long time. Days maybe? I would sleep on the floor in a corner between jak-jak tournaments. While you're playing, they give you these complimentary nutrition pouches so there is no interruption to the games. By the time it was all over, I think about a week had gone by. Maybe a few days more. It's hard to judge because I'd traded everything I had on my person to play, including my travel information square."

She could easily picture him acting with his trademark intensity—intent to lose everything as fast as he could. He'd focus on the game, telling himself he was planning to win but knowing deep down he didn't have the skills. He wanted the gaming den to call in the body contract. He wanted to become a slave. It would be a way to die without overtly committing suicide.

"After I'd lost everything, I staggered to a corner and collapsed. I don't know how long I slept, but the next thing I knew I was being woken up by the gaming den manager and a Hamlershin. The Hamlershin bought me cheap because they didn't think I had any skills. He figured they could sell me to a mining company for a quick profit."

"I'd ask why you didn't tell them about your qualifications, but I already know," she murmured.

"Not only did I not say anything about that, I fought him. When I didn't start cooperating even with beatings, he figured he was going to have to sell me by the pound. Too bad I was so skinny by then," Merrick tried to joke. "He wasn't even going to get his money back."

Grace thought she was prepared, but she wasn't. "He was going to sell you as meat?"

"Yes," he said, then quickly reminded her, "But it didn't happen. Damascus showed up and bought me and carried me straight to the medical suite on the station. And now we're here together. We all survived. Do you realize how astounding that is?"

"And we owe it all to Damascus," she murmured, feeling a huge amount of gratitude to that Talin. "Now I understand why you demanded he save me, not Iris or even the owner of this ship."

"You heard that?" he asked, clearly surprised.

"I was out of it, but that's the last thing I remember before waking up here," she admitted. "We're naming our next child Damascus."

He chuckled. "Yesterday you were demanding that Iris marry me and help raise Maeve, and now you're already planning our next kid?"

It was the perfect thing for him to say. It moved her right into their familiar banter. "A lot changed in a short time."

"Truth," he said, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "Does Riff's cooking still suck?"

A laugh burst out of her. "You have no idea! Early on, Sima threatened to go outside and eat trash if Riff tried making another meal."

They continued talking, but only about light topics and remembered funny stories.

The universe might've ripped them apart, but they were back together. It was safe to be happy.