Critical Path

“I’ll watch out for him,” Maria said with a smile. They turned their back on Gregor’s grave, having paid him the respects he probably didn’t deserve, and headed down the great steps of the basin towards the waiting dart of a ship, its pointed nose peeking out from behind a falling down old hut.

Charlie let Maria go ahead and he turned to Denver. “You know, as odd as it sounds, in some ways, I’m going to miss the crazy bastard,” he said, nodding his head back toward the grave.

“I understand,” Denver said. “But we’ve got new enemies now.”

“Talking of which, apparently Augustus has done a runner and skipped town. Hopefully that’ll be the last we see of him.”

“Just the croatoans to deal with now, and we’ll finally be able to retire in peace,” Denver said, watching Maria in front of him walk carefully down the steps. An image of him and her sharing a life bloomed very briefly in his mind until the sight of Hagellan’s repaired ship looming up as they rounded the hut extinguished it with the realities of the situation.

Mike and two small engineers were loading equipment onto the ship. Denver noticed the case containing the bomb in Mike’s hand. Hagellan was standing at the top of a loading ramp within the craft, directing operations. He saw Charlie and Denver arrive, and raised one of his ancient, gnarled hands in greeting.

He almost looked like an ally. But Denver wasn’t ruling anything out.

“I’ll go ahead and get settled,” Charlie said. “You say your goodbyes.” He inclined his head quickly in Maria’s direction before heading off to join Mike and the others loading the ship.

“So,” Maria said, standing by the side of the ramp, shadowed by the large dart-shaped hull. “This is it.”

“Yeah,” Denver said, moving from one foot to the other and trying to decide what to do with his hands. “I’m not good at this kind of thing,” he finally said.

“It’s okay. I understand. I wanted to thank you for listening to me earlier and not judging me. But I want you to remember it.” She hushed her voice. “He can’t be trusted.” Her eyes shifted up to look at Hagellan at the top of the ramp.

“I know, I’ll keep a close eye on him and will do whatever’s necessary.”

“I can trust you on that,” she said, moving closer to him. She stood just a few inches away now. He could smell her perfume, a bottle she had found back at the farm. It had a light, almost fruity scent. With her body close to his, she reached into a pocket of her jacket and pulled out a leather pouch the size of her palm. She placed it into his coat pocket.

“Just in case you need it, for injuries or something,” she said.

“What is it?” Denver asked, almost whispering now, sharing the conspiratorial moment.

“Refined root from the farm. It’s stronger than the usual stuff. Something I’ve been working on. If things get difficult or you get hurt, it’ll help.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it, though I hope not to use it.”

“Me too.”

They both stood there, inches from each other, wanting but not giving in. Until Denver leaned down and took her into a hug, pulling her in tight. “I will see you again,” he said close to her ear. “I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she replied with a smile in her voice.

“Okay, I ought to go,” Denver said, reluctantly releasing her from his embrace. “I’m not good at goodbyes.”

“Then don’t say it,” she said. “Let’s leave it at ‘see you later.’”

“Okay.” Denver hesitated and finally turned away and headed for the ramp. Layla stood at the top, her face reddened. She must have been watching the entire thing. She turned away and headed inside. Denver shook his head. That’s all he needed. This was why he’d always kept his emotions to himself.

Ignoring her ire, he reached the top of the ramp and turned to wave to Maria, but she was already gone, her form now small at the end of a narrow road. He watched her as she disappeared into the town and vowed that whatever happened, he’d return.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Charlie paused at the ship’s graphite-colored ramp. He considered whether this could be a trap. The moment they took off, Denver, Layla and he would be choked to death as the inside of the ship transformed to a croatoan-friendly atmosphere.

Mike edged out of the entrance, wearing a faded lime and brown striped sweater. He smoothed his shaggy gray hair away from his face. “You looked troubled, buddy?”

“You sure we’re okay on this thing?” Charlie said and looked along the length of the twenty-meter-long, cobalt blue vessel.

“I can’t give you one-hundred-percent confirmation, but I survived the test flight. Hagellan knows what he’s doing. Just make sure you keep an eye on him.”

Charlie had seen plenty of supply shuttles and croatoan fighters, but not one like this until it blasted over Unity earlier today. “What do they use these for?”

“High-level reconnaissance, like a spy plane. Hagellan told me they didn’t deploy many here. They’re mainly used for more densely populated planets.”

Charlie raised his eyebrows. “More densely populated than here?”