The Triad Page 22

  “I don’t want to put us—all of us—under any pressure. I’m never up there for more than a few days, anyway.”

  “Mo, if you want her to go up with you, ask her. Or were you only going to suggest it because you wanted to get her into bed?”

  Mo drew back. “No!”

  “Then don’t make it all about that.” Lesley glanced at the nav panel. “It’s up to you, but I won’t mind if you invite her.”

  “She’s still not drawing.”

  “Give it time.”

  “Maybe it’ll be good for her to get out of her apartment for a few days,” Mo said.

  Lesley nodded, and marvelled at how the thought of Mo and Jayne on 72 together had gone from threatening to upsetting, all in the course of two conversations. She wasn’t naïve; Mo and Jayne would be affectionate with each other on 72. But since the line would be drawn outside the bedroom door, Lesley would torment herself with less terrifying scenarios.

  *****

  Jayne heaved a relieved sigh and said, “Good.” She’d had trouble falling asleep last night, second-guessing herself for being so honest with her Chosens and wondering if they’d concluded that she was insane. On the other hand, the more she’d thought about it, the more convinced she’d become that her suggestion would be the least disruptive and hurtful to the triad, no matter how crazy it sounded.

  “So do you want to go to 72 with me?” Mo asked.

  “What?”

  Mo chuckled. “That’s what I thought when Les said she wouldn’t mind if I still asked you.”

  “She wouldn’t mind? But—”

  “She trusts us. We wouldn’t do anything to violate that trust, right?”

  “No. Absolutely not.” Now that they’d agreed to her idea, it would feel almost unnatural to sleep with only one of them, at least initially. Why would she do something so stupid? She wanted to take that step without hurting anyone or feeling guilty, and it was an experience she honestly wanted to share with both of them. Knowing that she could, and that neither Lesley nor Mo’s heart would be ripped from her chest and pulverized, would be more than enough for her to restrain herself on 72. “Okay, I’ll go.”

  “Great! I still have a fair number of practicums to do, especially since they fly several times each, so I’ll be up and down a lot in the next couple of months. I’d hate it if you could never come with me. I wish Les could come.”

  “It would be nice for all three of us to be up there together. Not because, uh—”

  Mo quickly rescued her. “I know what you mean.”

  “Who’s filling in for you when we Join?”

  “Nobody. Ross knew what dates we’d requested. Only the first date was a potential problem, so she scheduled around it. It’s only two weeks, right? As for supply, that’s always a last minute thing, so they’ll just know not to beep me.” Mo paused. “I feel sorry for Les. Yeah, she has the two weeks off, but she’ll have to catch up. They’re not stopping the course for her.”

  “Maybe we should have waited.”

  “No, we wanted the Falcon to be in dock, remember? We were really hoping for that first date.”

  “Right.” They’d mentioned wanting their pilot friends to attend the Joining supper, but Jayne had known that the desire to put CT134 to rest was the primary reason behind the dates they’d submitted. Otherwise they would have submitted dates six months apart that coincided with the Falcon’s docking schedule.

  “I have quite a few practicums to fly while we’re on 72, so you’ll want to bring your sketchbook,” Mo said.

  “I’ll bring it.” Whether she’d draw in it was another matter.

  *****

  Mo stepped off the elevator at Deck 7 and strode down the corridor. Before returning to her quarters and Jayne, she wanted to corner Ann, so it wouldn’t be on her mind for the rest of the day. She chuckled as she passed the quarters that Archer had originally assigned to her. Had Jayne believed her when she’d insisted that she hadn’t booked a one-bedroom on purpose, that Archer always arranged quarters and she’d explicitly told him she wanted a two-bedroom? At least it hadn’t taken him long to remedy the mistake. Now they were on Deck 6.

  She reached Ann’s quarters and pressed the door chime. The door slid open. Ann stood in the doorway. “Oh, it’s you. What do you want?”

  Dancing around the subject wouldn’t work. “Andrew told me you dumped him.”

  “Yeah, I did. So what? I’ve moved on, he’ll move on, that’s just the way it goes.” She folded her arms. “We’re not Chosens. We weren’t stuck together.”

  Andrew hadn’t moved on and, from what Mo had heard, neither had Ann. “Do you want to grab a drink in the canteen and talk about it?”

  Ann groaned and rolled her eyes. “Why would I want to talk to you about it? It’s over, okay? Get over it.”

  Mo shrugged. “Okay, I guess we don’t need to talk. Andrew told me enough. See you.” She turned and walked away.

  “Wait!”

  Suppressing a smile, Mo whirled.

  Ann had stepped into the corridor. “What did he tell you?”

  “I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”

  “He shouldn’t be telling you anything.”

  Mo put her hands on her hips. “No, I’m just his sister and I live with him. You might not care that he’s hurting, but I do.”

  Ann stared at her. “His ego’s just hurt. He’ll be at the Dance Hall tonight with his next girlfriend.”

  “You really believe that?” Mo tutted. “You know what I don’t understand? Why the one who did the dumping has been down in the dumps ever since. I would have thought you’d be partying.”

  Ann’s chin came up. “I’m not upset about it.”

  “Give me a break! According to Archer and everyone else, all you do is fly and hole up in your quarters. I want to understand why you don’t want to be with him, so I can explain it to him, because I don’t think he understands. What’s so terrible about him wanting to see you more often?”

  Ann’s eyes bulged. “That’s what he told you? That I broke up with him because he wants to see me more often?”

  “Well, yeah,” Mo drawled. “Why didn’t you ever invite him to 72? You usually only saw him during your downtime, and as far as I could tell, you looked forward to it.”

  “I wish I’d never met him!”

  So she could go on having shallow relationships in which nobody got hurt? Mo kept the thought to herself. “Look, I know you, okay? I know him. You’re both miserable. If you’re seriously glad you dumped him and you’re getting over it, fine. If you’re having second thoughts, then let’s talk. I might be able to help.” Ann wanted to talk, otherwise she would have shut the door in Mo’s face long before now.

  “I thought you didn’t want us to be together.”

  “When I first found out, I wasn’t thrilled. But I was wrong. You were happy together.” She ignored Ann’s eye roll. “He’s my brother. You’re my friend, right? So let’s go to the canteen. Unless you want to talk about it out here in the corridor.”

  “If I tell you what’s going on, you have to promise never to bring it up again.”

  “I promise.” An easy vow to make, considering she’d never intended to talk to Ann about Andrew beyond the one conversation. After that, her duty was done.

  Ann hit the Close button and fell into step with Mo. “I guess you’re here alone,” she said as they entered the elevator.

  “No, Jayne’s with me. I told her I was going to drop in on you after the practicum.”

  “Oh, so everyone knows my flaming business!”

  “You seriously think she wouldn’t find out that you and Andrew broke up? Come on.” Mo shook her head.

  “So what happened?” she asked as soon as they sat down at a table in a quiet corner with their drinks. Since Jayne was here, Mo’s patience would quickly run thin if Ann took her time getting to the point. “He said you think he’s smothering you.”

  “Why couldn’t he settle for a few
days here and there?” Ann said.

  “Were you satisfied with a few days here and there?”

  Ann remained silent, but the question was rhetorical anyway. Ann had always grown cranky after a couple of weeks of not seeing Andrew. So... “Why didn’t you ever invite him to 72? He wanted to come up and see you. Didn’t you want to show him around, show him a fighter, show him where you spend most of your time?”

  “He might have thought it was serious.”

  “It was serious!” Was? It still is. “Is that why you wouldn’t invite him? You wanted to pretend to him—and yourself—that your relationship doesn’t—didn’t matter?”

  Ann’s face tightened. “Look, I...like him, okay? I miss him. But I don’t want to live with him.”

  What? “What do you mean?”

  “He asked me to live with him.”

  Andrew wanted to move Ann into the house?

  “Oh, don’t worry, he didn’t mean under the same roof as you, not that you’ll be living there for much longer.” Ann sighed, then sipped her juice. “He wants to move out, says it’s time. He keeps talking about building a house on the estate and asked me if I’d live there with him. “

  Argamon! “So you dumped him?”

  “I don’t want to live with him!”

  “So why didn’t you just say no?”

  “He’s always nagging me to come to 72, then he wants me to move in with him. I had to send a message.”

  Mo rolled her eyes. “Next time use an inverse laser instead of a missile.”

  Ann grunted.

  “You miss him, and you obviously regret breaking it off.”

  Ann pulled a face but didn’t deny it.

  “Why don’t you want him on 72?” When Ann didn’t answer, Mo tried another tack. “Why are you so opposed to the idea of living with him? You spend all your downtime on the estate. What difference would it make if you stayed in another house on the estate?”

  “Moving in with him would mean giving up my room at the Military Academy.”

  “So what? You never go there anyway.” Mo remembered the sterile appearance of Ann’s room. It wasn’t a home. She’d always assumed that Ann saw it as temporary, but temporary had stretched into months, then years. “If you’re worried, hedge your bets. Move a couple of things in with him, but don’t give up your room at the Military Academy until you’re sure. He doesn’t have to know.”

  “I don’t want to move in with him!”

  “Okay, so just tell him that, but let him a little more into your life. Maybe he suggested moving in because he was hoping you’d maybe compromise and let him come to 72 every once in a while.”

  Ann huffed an exasperated sigh. “Why can’t he be satisfied with the way things are?”

  “Are you?”

  “I don’t know,” Ann mumbled.

  Mo did: no! “He sees your relationship as more than a casual one. So do you,” Mo held up her hand, “and don’t bother to deny it. The only way you can see more of each other is if he comes up here every once in a while, unless you want to run yourself ragged going down to the planet. Not a good long-term plan. So why are you being so stubborn about not inviting him up here?”

  “If I invite him up here, let him into my space, introduce him to everyone, he’ll think he’s...I don’t know, important to me.”

  Mo’s mouth dropped open. “And wouldn’t that be awful.” Why was she trying to get the two of them back together? Did she really want to see Andrew with someone afraid to let him know that she cared? In this case, a missile had been the merciful choice, though Ann hadn’t intended it that way.

  She downed the rest of her juice and pushed back her chair. “I’m wasting my time here. If you don’t want to be with him, don’t be with him. If you want to be with him, stop pushing him away. It’s that simple.” Mo stood and walked away, then turned and jabbed a finger at Ann. “Oh, and you both better behave yourselves at the Joining supper.” Vowing that she’d stay out of it from now on, she marched off.

  *****

  Jayne studied her quick sketch of the leaf she’d plucked from one of the arboretum’s plants—from the area where Rymellans were permitted to take cuttings, of course. Normally she took her time when drawing, but she’d merely wanted to show herself that she could still do it. Should she be exhilarated or upset that, the moment her pencil had moved across the page, she’d felt as if she’d come home?

  At the Indoctrination Academy, she’d wanted her compulsion to draw, to capture what she saw in her mind’s eye on canvas or paper, to go away. The less she was like either of her parents, the better. But she hadn’t been able to resist it. She could no more stop drawing than she could stop breathing. She’d fought to see her passion as a positive thing, not a defect, but was it hurting her? Was she wasting her time; should she try to do something else? Should she be disappointed with herself because she knew that, regardless of the answers to those questions, she’d still draw and paint?

  She jumped and closed her sketchbook when Mo burst into their quarters and plopped into a chair with a sigh. “Every time I talk to Ann about relationships, I understand why we have Solitaries,” Mo said.

  Jayne smiled. “It didn’t go well?”

  “She’s hopeless. Andrew’s better off without her. He’ll realize that—once he stops moping.” She eyed Jayne’s sketchbook.

  “Lesley beeped me,” Jayne quickly said. “She wanted to know if I wanted Robert at any of the pre-celebrations. I’m pretty sure she already knew the answer, but wanted to double-check.” And maybe check up on them?

  Mo nodded. “Now that it’s so close, Adelaide’s in full planning mode. Because things didn’t go exactly as we expected at our notification meetings—for any of us—I thought she’d tone it down a little.”

  Jayne recalled her conversation with Adelaide at the awards ceremony. “I think she realized there’s a lot of interest in our Joining Ceremony. They’ll probably report more details about our Joining than they usually do.”

  Mo grimaced. “Yeah.”

  Jayne sympathized. She wasn’t thrilled with the prospect of being on the monitors either. The powers-that-be wouldn’t record the ceremony, but the triad arriving at and leaving the Chosen House would be fair game.

  “I’m more than happy to let Adelaide handle everything,” Mo said.

  Jayne was, too—sort of. She had an appointment—Adelaide’s wording—with Adelaide next week to “procure what you’ll wear.” She wasn’t looking forward to Adelaide grabbing her by the ear and dragging her down to the Trading Centre.

  Mo’s gaze settled on Jayne’s sketchbook again. “Did you, uh, sketch while I was out?”

  Jayne hesitated, then nodded.

  Mo’s face lit up and she leaped to her feet. “Can I see?”

  Jayne’s heart sank. “It’s—it’s just a leaf. I just wanted to do a quick sketch.”

  “If you don’t want to show me, that’s okay.” Mo plunked onto the sofa next to her.

  “No, I...” Was that Mo’s hand on her back? Jayne flipped the sketchbook open and touched the leaf clipped to the first page. “It’s from the arboretum. I went up there and, uh...” Her breath caught in her throat when Mo’s hair brushed her cheek.

  Mo leaned into her and pointed at Jayne’s hurried replica. “Are you sure you rushed? If it was in colour, I might mistake it for an image.”

  “Yeah,” Jayne murmured, more aware of Mo’s body heat than of what she was saying. She closed the sketchbook, then froze when she felt Mo’s hand on her leg. Without thinking, she moved to grasp Mo’s fingers. The sketchbook slid to the floor. “Sorry,” she mumbled, but didn’t bend to retrieve it. She sensed Mo’s eyes on her, heard—felt—her breathing. Okay. Don’t pass out. She swallowed, then turned to Mo, and—the words she’d intended died on her lips when they met Mo’s. Her need to wrap her arms around Mo and press her body against hers chased away any worries about doing it wrong. The yearnings she’d suppressed, the sensations she’d never experienced,
the lust that surprised her, the pleasure of holding Mo so close and the frustration that she couldn’t melt into her...the shock and disappointment when Mo pushed her away. Jayne wanted to kiss her forever! “Did I do something—”

  “We should get out of here,” Mo said breathlessly, then moved in for another kiss that led to another until she pulled back. “Seriously, let’s get out of here. We can do this somewhere else.”

  Jayne had tried not to imagine kissing Mo, figuring that reality would never live up to her fantasy, but she’d had it backward. She understood why they had to leave. She’d never betray Lesley’s trust and was sure Mo wouldn’t either, but why play with fire?

  “Let’s go to one of the observation decks.” Mo stood.

  “Really?”

  “Really. We’ll check 5. If it’s not empty, we’ll go to 2. Come on.” She grasped Jayne’s hand and pulled her up from the sofa.

  The sketchbook could stay on the carpet; Jayne wouldn’t need it. As she followed Mo into the corridor, one thought rose above all the others that raced through her mind: I’m sorry, Lesley.

  *****

  Passing time while she waited for Mo to show up, Lesley read announcements on the comm station in her bedroom. She could wait downstairs, but if Mo wanted to tell her anything about 72—if she and Jayne had decided not to wait, after all—Lesley wanted to hear it in private.

  She selected another announcement, then shook her head when she realized that she’d already read it. Nothing was registering. Up until today, she’d managed to focus on her studies, quickly reassuring herself when she questioned her trust in her Chosens. Now she wondered if she’d been in denial. Something must have happened on 72; they couldn’t have completely restrained themselves. But would Mo tell her? Did Lesley want her to?