Page 20

Garnet

A group of males, all gathered in one house, could not be trusted to keep it neat, tidy, and pretty regardless of their species it seemed. The bridge was filthy. Absolutely unacceptable. She didn’t know how Sway managed to work in this mess, but it bothered her like a thorn in her side.

The visibly dirty walls and floor in the halls were gross, but understandable. That was the kind of mess that was easy to ignore because it built up so slowly that, over time, you just became accustomed to it looking that way. To give them credit, they did keep the galley and privies decently clean. Their personal bedrooms were, of course, their own business and she didn’t care how they looked.

But the gym, the rec room, and Tanin’s upper bridge were all just generally dirty and messy. The kind of carelessness that she couldn’t accuse of being unacceptable, but which bothered her all the same.

However, all of that paled in comparison to the bridge.

Sway spent so much of his time here working, but he didn’t bother to clean up after himself at all. She knew he would sometimes sleep in that chair. If he got up and moved around, stretching or doing some small exercises, he did them prison style in this small room. He’d eat and set his dishes aside, and the only time someone came to get them was when they ran out in the galley. The trash, however, could just pile up without end.

She finally understood how the guys could stomach the food synthesizer all the time. They didn’t. Sway obviously had a stash of packaged food somewhere, because there were wrappers shove in every nook and cranny. They weren’t plastic. They were the same paper-like product that made up their shopping bags. She didn’t think they were paper, the texture wasn’t exactly right, but she did know, from seeing it around in other places, that it was recyclable like paper. Those things were everywhere. And feathers! There were feathers all over the place! Sway clearly molted in this room, or plucked himself naked, because there were enough feathers there to make a whole second Sway.

The floors and walls were dirty, the consoles were dirty, the chairs were dirty – everything in here needed to be cleaned! It was a disaster zone!

Luckily, she now had her loyal puppy.

Spot was the one cleaning machine she was able to get working again. And he was a little powerhouse of a tool. He scrubbed floors, he wiped windows and walls, his body could crush trash, and his head was flat to hold things like piles of dirty dishes. He could even work without disturbing that pile. He wasn’t loud, but he smelled really nice thanks to the cleaning fluids she’d put in his tanks. He had some dings on his chassis, but he was otherwise sparkly clean.

And he followed her around like a pet. He was programmed to do so. As well as follow simple commands – i.e. clean, crush, compact, etc. She had already been thinking about names for him even before she finished repairs, but when she saw his little personality after turning him back on, the name Spot popped into her head and just seemed to fit him so perfectly.

It was also kind of a play on words. Spot clean. Spot!

The two of them attacked Sway’s mess with a vengeance. The guys remained in their chairs, doing whatever fancy work that was required for navigation. She could read Standard thanks to that language imprint she’d been given, but their work was far beyond her capabilities. She could only stare at it and figure it must be hieroglyphics before getting back to cleaning.

There was just so much . Tanin claimed that they cleaned up around here every now and then, but she didn’t think they actually cleaned. They probably picked things up, maybe threw other things away, but there was no way this place had ever been cleaned properly. She tackled the dirt and grime of it all with the hard determination to leave this place sparkling.

Time passed pretty quickly that way. Every time she thought about taking a break, she told herself just one more thing. Just one more surface. She was almost done.

Then, she found a pile of trash under one of the unused consoles, and it just kept going. It looked like someone had just kept pushing trash deeper and deeper, compacting it until it was a dense mass of junk and garbage and those damn feathers that just kept coming!

And then one of the consoles turned out to be covered in a layer of filth so thick, it couldn’t even be used anymore. This bridge was designed for four people, but Sway was the only one up here. So, he had just worked at that console until it stopped responding, then moved to a different one without thinking that maybe he could just clean that first one.

That was an affront to her senses, and she grumbled about it the entire time she was scrubbing like she was trying to get down to the bare metal.

How did a person live like this? She got that Sway grew up in the space slums, but surely, he was raised better than this. At this point, it wasn’t even just laziness. This was willful ignorance of what it took to keep a place livable. Even children knew better than to-

“Garnet.”

“What?!” She whipped around, cleaning rag branded like a blade, glaring at Tanin who had come up behind her and touched her shoulder.

He kept his hands up, proving he was unarmed, as he gave her a look.

“It’s time for you to take a break.”

“I’m almost done.”

“No. Now.”

“I’m almost- Hey!”

She didn’t get any further as he chose that moment to grab her by the waist and pick her straight up off the ground. She grabbed his shoulders reflexively, the rag dropping with a damp plop. He didn’t move her far. Just across the bridge to one of the chairs she had already cleaned. He set her down on that before taking a step back, looking her over.

“Break time,” he said again. “You’ve been at this for marks now.”

“I just got started.”

“No, you’ve just finished. Here. Drink this.”

He pulled out a water pouch from one of the pockets of his pants and passed it to her.

“I’m not thirsty. Now, let me go. I’m almost-”

He cut her off again, putting a hand on her shoulder and pushing her back down. She glared at him as he twisted the top off the pouch and pressed it on her. Annoyed, she sucked on the tip, just to shut him up and make him go away so she could get back to work.

But the second the water hit her tongue, she realized she was, in fact, thirsty. Actually, she was dying of dehydration. The anger faded, replaced instead by the primitive need for fluids, and she guzzled the entire pack. Tanin didn’t let it go, making sure she drank, so she covered his hand with hers as she encouraged him to squeeze it so the water would get in her face faster.

It ran out too soon. She popped off the end with a sigh of relief, smacking her lips, licking at them to get any stray drops. Tanin watched her as he turned, dropping the trash into Spot’s open can without even looking.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, embarrassed for snapping at him now that she’d calmed down. “Was I really working that long?”

“It’s been a while, and you haven’t taken a break. Your face is really red. I don’t think that’s typical for your species.”

“Depends on the, er…”

Her voice trailed off because he was touching her face. Gently stroking her cheeks. The roughness of his fingers felt good as he brushed them over her jaw, up her cheek, across her forehead.

“You’re warmer than usual as well.”

“I’m okay,” she promised, offering a gentle smile. “I just got a little worked up, that’s all.”

“Do human females typically get worked up like this while nesting?”

“Nesting?” She blinked once before shaking her head. “I wasn’t nesting. I was just cleaning.”

He made a sound that was obviously one of disagreement, his hand lowering back to his side. “I think you’re done for the day. You can continue tomorrow.”

“Oh, but there’s still so much to do in here and-”

“And there will be more tomorrow. And the day after. The mess isn’t going anywhere, and you’ve already done enough. You can start again tomorrow when you’ve had time to calm yourself down. You’re agitated now.”

“So not,” she mumbled, but didn’t really fight him further. He had a point. She had easily cleaned half the bridge already. There was no way Sway would be able to get it super dirty again tomorrow, so she wouldn’t be losing any ground by leaving it to stay until later.

But she hadn’t really expected Tanin to come in and calm her down like that. He manhandled her a bit – malehanded? – but she found she really didn’t mind. It was like trying to be mad about a river sweeping you away or rain getting you wet. Tanin was a force of nature. He did what he was going to do, regardless of your opinion on it.

Honestly, she was impressed by how gentle he had been. He didn’t try arguing, he didn’t snap at her, he didn’t order her to sit down. Even when she tried to stand again, the hand on her shoulder had been soft, more encouraging than demanding. He didn’t toss her around and throw her onto the chair. He picked her up and sat her down with the same ease of movement.

“You’re pretty strong,” she admitted.

He didn’t answer. But he fished another water pouch out of his pocket and passed it to her – after twisting off the cap.

He was so caring. His expression rarely changed, and his tone was always so serious, but the way he behaved and treated her spoke more volumes than any flowery words ever could.

Garnet took the water pouch and sipped it, but didn’t devour it like the first one. He nodded his head once, satisfied, before looking around the half-cleaned bridge. Sway had left at some point, though she didn’t notice when, leaving only the two of them.

“You did good work. A bit too much. Take it easier next time.”

“I’m alright. I was in the zone, actually. It felt good.”

“No more zones for you. Not if you’re going to neglect yourself while in them.”

She grinned, gesturing at him with her water pouch. “Aren’t you supposed to be some big, scary slum soldier or something?”

“Slum soldier?” One of his spiky brows popped.

“Since when do those types bother with self-care?”

He caught her chin in hand, lifting her head up and back. Giving himself a good look at her as he stared down from above with a gaze that made her shiver in the best way.

“Slum soldier?” He repeated, his tone somewhere between amused and curious.

“Is that not what you were? A street tough? A bad mama jama?”

“You’re speaking nonsense now.”

Garnet chuckled, reaching out to touch him. Her fingers pressed against his thigh, dangerously close to that bulge in his pants. But he didn’t try to step away from her.

“Is that not what you were?” She asked, grinning despite the topic.

“I wouldn’t have called myself any of those things.”

“Oh? What would you have called yourself?”

He cocked his head back. Red eyes flashing in the light. Still holding her chin. Commanding the very air around her so that it almost seemed hard to breathe. He smelled so fresh and clean, with just a hint of metal. But she kind of loved it.

“I wouldn’t have called myself anything,” he said simply. “And no one would have dared speak my name.”

Another shiver went through her. He spoke like it was supposed to be a threat, but she found herself leaning closer. How sick was she that she was attracted to this?

This wasn’t pretend. This wasn’t boasting. There was danger in those crimson eyes. The fact that he was so controlled and careful and so adherent to his personal rules spoke to an iron will. The kind that only had to be forged if there was something dangerous it was containing.

It was something dark and disturbingly civilized. There wasn’t anything wild or primal about it. Brutal sure; violent, maybe. But for it to be wild, it had to have some sense of innocence. There was no maliciousness in the primal actions of the untamed.

No. Tanin had never made a choice he didn’t carefully consider and plan first. If there was violence, it was calculated. He acted not just with aggression, but intention. If he decided to kill you, it wasn’t a decision made in passion at the heat of the moment. And you weren’t going to get away. Your death had been signed as surely as if a judge ordered your execution.

It should have driven her away from this guy. It should have scared her off.

But she didn’t just see that violence and darkness. She saw the framework of control he’d built around it. This life he lived might not have been glamorous, but it was one he’d fought for. One he’d built that ironwork of will to keep.

“Tell me who you were,” Garnet whispered, almost begging.

She wanted to know this male. She needed to hear about his past. However dirty, wrong, or criminal it might have been. She needed to know him more. She needed to know not only where that metal framework came from, but the monster it was built to contain.

Tanin’s expression tightened, and he pulled back, releasing her. Stepping from her touch. Putting distance between them that cut like a knife.

“You don’t need to know that.”

“But I want to.” She stood, setting the water pouch down on her now empty seat. Trying to get closer even as he took another step back.

“You don’t,” he said simply. “Besides, even if you do, what does it matter? My past is behind me. It’s pointless to bring it up.”

Garnet cocked her head. “That’s dumb.”

He frowned, brow furrowing. “What?”

“That saying. ‘My past is behind me’. It’s dumb. And it’s wrong.” She took another step towards him, hopeful when he didn’t step away. “Your past isn’t something you can leave behind. It’s not something that can chase you down. It’s never something you can escape. For better or for worse, your past is always there. It’s not behind you. It’s beneath you. It’s the foundation on which you stand. Every choice you’ve ever made or has ever been made for you built that base and made you who you are today. You may not be defined by your past, but you were definitely created by it. That’s why it’s so important to accept. You don’t have to celebrate it, but you can at least acknowledge it. Running from something that’s holding the weight of your footsteps is pointless, so you might as well accept that it’s there.”

Tanin said nothing for a moment. He looked at her with an unreadable expression as she caught up with him. Putting her hands on his chest. He was tense, but he didn’t step back this time.

“I’m not na?ve, you know,” she said, staring at that divot between his collarbones outlined under his shirt. “I get that you came from a dark past. I get that you’ve done some bad things. I’m not asking you to relive them all with me. But I want to know you, which means knowing who you used to be. I’ll even trade you. My past for yours.”

He scoffed. “That’s not a fair trade. Your past is worth far more than mine.”

“I didn’t take you for the kind with self-esteem issues,” she grinned.

“There’s no issue about it.” He broke, his stiffness easing as he swept an arm around her waist and jerked her up on her toes, holding her against his chest just that easily. “I know my worth. I think you don’t realize yours if you’re flirting with someone like me.”

She shrugged. “My mom always said I had an abundance of audacity and no sense to direct it.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I think she was trying to call me a special kind of dumb.”

“I hope she was joking.”

“Oh, no,” Garnet laughed. “I told you, our parents only wanted Goldie. Everything I did was cause for criticism and condemnation. They called me stupid to my face plenty.”

His hand tightened on her waist. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Garnet’s belly swooped with delight. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “I know. Thank you for saying it though.”

Tanin didn’t respond immediately. But he was giving her a searching look. She couldn’t guess what was going on in his head, so she just appreciated the firmness of his muscles under her touch. If she moved her fingers up, she could just brush his bare skin around the hem of his shirt. That little burst of light was so subtle, but it was beautiful. A little white firework under his gray skin.

“My mother was soft. Like you.”

Garnet’s eyes darted up quickly. Not prepared for that. She blinked, her lips parted in surprise, but she didn’t want to ask a question in case he stopped talking.

Tanin took a slow breath. “My father was a criminal. I don’t know what he did. Doesn’t really matter either. All I know is that he was on the run from Tella’za. That’s my species home planet. He escaped from there with my mother when she was pregnant. Rik-Vane was the only place they could hide. My father was killed there when I was too young to remember him. My mother tried to protect me, but it wasn’t really possibly. Rik-Vane is a terrible place. Not the kind of place for a soft female like her. It destroyed her, I know. She could only hold on long enough to see me to adulthood before she followed my father.”

Garnet’s breath caught, understanding what he wasn’t saying. His mother was miserable her entire life, then killed herself the moment she thought Tanin would be okay without her.

She left him all alone on the worst station in the universe.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” He gave her a sharp look. “You had nothing to do with it.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t feel sorry. How old were you?”

“Old enough.”

She frowned. “You don’t want to tell me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t know how old I was. We never kept track of my age. There was no bureaucracy like that on Rik-Vane, and my birth wasn’t recorded officially. Even if it was, Rik-Vane doesn’t have seasons, and no one really keeps track of the years passing. I suppose I was an adult by that point. But if you’re asking for my age, I couldn’t tell you.”

“You don’t know how old you are?”

“Officially, I’m forty-one Standard years old. Realistically, it’s a guess based on how old I look.”

He didn’t look forty-one. But Standard years were different from Earth years, so she wasn’t sure how the number converted. But that wasn’t what was most important on her mind.

Tanin didn’t know how old he was.

That was a baffling concept to her. And more than his allusions to his past, more than Ikvar’s warning, more than anything, that told her what his life was like. Because how could someone in the modern day not know how old they were?

And not just in a joking way. Not in a, oh, I lose track way. But genuinely, couldn’t even look up the information, something that can never be known kind of way.

What kind of place was Rik-Vane that he’d never know? How sad was his life with his mother that she didn’t bother to keep track of her son’s aging? What sort of position were they in that they couldn’t even afford that small of a luxury?

“What was your mom like?” She asked, forcing her voice to be calm and level. “Besides soft, I mean.”

“Sad,” he said immediately. “I don’t have a memory of my mother where she truly smiled. She didn’t live long enough for me to get strong enough to protect her. Her life was one of misery. I’m glad it ended before it stretched out too long.”

“You don’t mean that.” She shook her head.

“I do,” he said, voice cold and harsh. “My life was not a happy one. Neither was hers. To pretend otherwise is a lie.”

“But that’s…”

“Do not pity my mother. On Rik-Vane, suicide isn’t something to pity. It’s not something to grieve. It’s a way out. For some, it’s the only way out. Those people who choose to do it themselves before someone else does it for them are considered powerful in their way. My mother survived Rik-Vane until she decided to end it. There’s strength in that.”

Garnet didn’t know if she could see it that way.

But then, she also couldn’t imagine Rik-Vane. A place so terrible, it was given up on by the authorities meant to protect it. A place so horrible, they didn’t even bother going after the criminals that were lost inside. She couldn’t imagine a place so awful. And that was a privilege of hers. It was so easy for her to pity this female she had never met, because her own life wasn’t nearly so bad that she would ever have contemplated ending it all.

She had no right to judge what anyone did there. Not Tanin’s mother for choosing her own way out, and not Tanin for what he had to do to survive and escape.