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Authors: Courtney Grace Powers
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frowning.
“Yeah. And according to the duke, their armies are swarming like an anthill. We'll want to avoid stepping on their lawn.”
Hayden quietly watched as Reece leaned his hands against the table and began reading a piece of parchment with feverish focus. Peering over the table, Hayden counted half a dozen very old maps with curled, frayed edges, all covered in Reece's cramped notes, as if his handwriting had spilt from an inkwell and spread unstoppably.
“Did you want something?” Reece asked, distracted.
“I…I've been thinking about the…expedition. Thinking maybe I should come.”
Reece's eyebrows climbed up his forehead, but he didn't look away from the parchment. He was quiet for so long, Hayden timidly ventured, “Well?”
Reece paid him the briefest of glances and shrugged offhandedly. “Sure. Yeah. Come along.”
Stung, Hayden straightened his glasses, as if Reece had delivered him a physical blow. “Well, if it makes no difference…if you don't need me…”
Reece just shrugged again, muttering under his breath and stooping to consult his scratched notes. His hand flailed, located the pen he'd stuck through his tousled hair, and then set to jotting something in the margins of an already crammed sheet.
For a moment, Hayden dithered between leaving the room and asking for an explanation. Was there someone else on the crew who had studied medicine for nine years? Someone else who was qualified to perform surgery, prescribe antidotes, administer stitches and straighteners? Hayden shook his head to clear it. Losing the feeling of being needed had made him feel like an outsider. He didn't want to be excluded from this. That surprised him.
With a sudden chuckle, Reece pocketed his datascope and turned to study Hayden, a gleam in his brown eyes. “Hayden, listen to me. What I want is for you to want to come. And I think you do. You're just not willing to admit it. It's always been this way with you. You need to be talked into everything, because you want to be talked into it.”
“Well,” Hayden said stiffly, “that's because I'm always worrying what will happen if I don't go along with you and Gideon.”
“It's the same this time. Much as you put up a fight, you don't want to miss out.”
Indignant, Hayden squared his shoulders and glowered at Reece. “Maybe that's not what I meant. Maybe I meant I'm always worried you and Gideon will go too far and get yourselves into trouble, or hurt, or worse without some voice of reason to hold you back. Maybe I'm wondering if that's a good enough reason for me to follow you across the Epimetheus now.”
Reece chewed on that for a minute, peering up at the ceiling, his face troubled.
Hayden reflexively felt guilty for snapping, though a small, unpleasant voice in the back of his head told him he shouldn't. He mentally shooed it away like a fly and began, “I'm sorry, that—”
“You worry too much, Hayden. No,” Reece added when he saw Hayden opening his mouth, “you do. You've just admitted it. You say you always worry what will happen to me and Gid if you aren't there when we lose our heads. But when have we ever done that? Really done that?”
“I know, I shouldn't have—”
“You've been studying to be doctor for nine years. Well, I've been studying to be a captain. Here's what I have to show for it. Think of the captain as a kind of umbrella,” Reece mimed an umbrella by cupping his hands, “that all the responsibility rains on. The umbrella protects a
“Yeah. And according to the duke, their armies are swarming like an anthill. We'll want to avoid stepping on their lawn.”
Hayden quietly watched as Reece leaned his hands against the table and began reading a piece of parchment with feverish focus. Peering over the table, Hayden counted half a dozen very old maps with curled, frayed edges, all covered in Reece's cramped notes, as if his handwriting had spilt from an inkwell and spread unstoppably.
“Did you want something?” Reece asked, distracted.
“I…I've been thinking about the…expedition. Thinking maybe I should come.”
Reece's eyebrows climbed up his forehead, but he didn't look away from the parchment. He was quiet for so long, Hayden timidly ventured, “Well?”
Reece paid him the briefest of glances and shrugged offhandedly. “Sure. Yeah. Come along.”
Stung, Hayden straightened his glasses, as if Reece had delivered him a physical blow. “Well, if it makes no difference…if you don't need me…”
Reece just shrugged again, muttering under his breath and stooping to consult his scratched notes. His hand flailed, located the pen he'd stuck through his tousled hair, and then set to jotting something in the margins of an already crammed sheet.
For a moment, Hayden dithered between leaving the room and asking for an explanation. Was there someone else on the crew who had studied medicine for nine years? Someone else who was qualified to perform surgery, prescribe antidotes, administer stitches and straighteners? Hayden shook his head to clear it. Losing the feeling of being needed had made him feel like an outsider. He didn't want to be excluded from this. That surprised him.
With a sudden chuckle, Reece pocketed his datascope and turned to study Hayden, a gleam in his brown eyes. “Hayden, listen to me. What I want is for you to want to come. And I think you do. You're just not willing to admit it. It's always been this way with you. You need to be talked into everything, because you want to be talked into it.”
“Well,” Hayden said stiffly, “that's because I'm always worrying what will happen if I don't go along with you and Gideon.”
“It's the same this time. Much as you put up a fight, you don't want to miss out.”
Indignant, Hayden squared his shoulders and glowered at Reece. “Maybe that's not what I meant. Maybe I meant I'm always worried you and Gideon will go too far and get yourselves into trouble, or hurt, or worse without some voice of reason to hold you back. Maybe I'm wondering if that's a good enough reason for me to follow you across the Epimetheus now.”
Reece chewed on that for a minute, peering up at the ceiling, his face troubled.
Hayden reflexively felt guilty for snapping, though a small, unpleasant voice in the back of his head told him he shouldn't. He mentally shooed it away like a fly and began, “I'm sorry, that—”
“You worry too much, Hayden. No,” Reece added when he saw Hayden opening his mouth, “you do. You've just admitted it. You say you always worry what will happen to me and Gid if you aren't there when we lose our heads. But when have we ever done that? Really done that?”
“I know, I shouldn't have—”
“You've been studying to be doctor for nine years. Well, I've been studying to be a captain. Here's what I have to show for it. Think of the captain as a kind of umbrella,” Reece mimed an umbrella by cupping his hands, “that all the responsibility rains on. The umbrella protects a
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