glass. When her hands took hold of his wrists, he started, not only from her touch but because his right wrist was cold and his left was not.
“Julian.” Her voice was watery. “Please forgive me, but you must try to understand how very much, how very important this is.”
“Why?” His head was still woolly, and he was so tired. “What do you mean?”
“I envy you,” and then she swallowed hard. “I envy you your heart. Your faith, your integrity, your passion. So let me ask you a different way.” She pulled in a breath. “Julian, will you fail?”
“What? Why?”
“Because it’s important. It’s everything. So in four days, when I have to hook you up to that scanner, will…you… fail?”
And there: He saw what she was doing in that instant—allowing him to tell his truth in the only way he could, and he was more grateful than she could ever know because now, at last, he could answer, and it would be no lie.
“Yes,” he said.
“I don’t know what that is,” said Lense. Saad had her EVA suit now and when he shook it, a shower of grit rained upon rock with a sound like rice. “I have no idea.”
“It looks to be about your size.” Saad hefted the helmet. “Is it yours?”
She said nothing.
“This is a waste,” said Mara. “Let’s stop this little charade and—”
“Be quiet.” Saad hadn’t even turned around. His eyes fixed on Lense, and she felt her heart swell with anger. This was so stupid; what did the Prime Directive mean now? More than that, she didn’t want to lie to Saad, not anymore.
I care for him, and he cares for me, and that should count for something, shouldn’t it? In this whole crazy universe, doesn’t love count for anything?
And then her mind snagged on something else: Nerrit, and Saad’s source. Nerrit was coming, and that was unusual. Nerrit was coming all the way out here, but not because of her suit. Saad had her suit. But Nerrit’s coming was somehow about her, anyway. But that would have to mean that this was about somebody else, someone like her…
Oh, my God, my God!
“Elizabeth?”
“Yes?” She forced herself to focus just on Saad’s face and his eyes and everything there was for her in his heart she didn’t want to lose.
“Is this suit yours?”
She swallowed. “No.”
“Saad,” Mara began.
Saad held up a hand, and Mara sank back into silence. He looked like he was weighing something on a mental scale, debating how to ask the next question in a way that she might or could answer. Then he replaced her suit and laid her helmet on top and walked to her and knelt and took her hands in his.
“Well, then,” he said, very gently. “Answer me this, my love. Are you the only… one?”
She knew what he meant. More important, she knew who.
“No,” she said.
Kahayn still had him by his wrists. Whether she tethered him there, or this was a comfort to both of them, he didn’t know. It didn’t matter.
Bashir said, “So what now? What happens now?”
“That depends,” she said, “on how much you trust me.”
“Bashir,” Lense said. “His name is Julian Bashir. He’s a doctor, like me. We were traveling together and got…separated.”
“All right,” said Saad. He still knelt, still had her hands, but now there was uncertainty in his eyes. “Are you and he, are you…?”
“No. Just…we’re friends.”
His shoulders eased a bit. “Can you tell me where or how you got…?”
“No,” she said again. “But Julian’s why Nerrit’s coming, isn’t it?”
He nodded.
“And your contact?”
“Has a plan, a way to get us in by the footpath instead of the tram. It’s risky. And we’ve got to go now. Nerrit will be here in a few days, and it will take us that long just to get within striking distance of his convoy.”
“Saad,” said Mara. “Please. This isn’t wise.”
“Really?” he drawled. “I think you’ve made that abundantly clear.”
Lense saw the sudden hurt in Mara’s eyes. “Don’t
“Julian.” Her voice was watery. “Please forgive me, but you must try to understand how very much, how very important this is.”
“Why?” His head was still woolly, and he was so tired. “What do you mean?”
“I envy you,” and then she swallowed hard. “I envy you your heart. Your faith, your integrity, your passion. So let me ask you a different way.” She pulled in a breath. “Julian, will you fail?”
“What? Why?”
“Because it’s important. It’s everything. So in four days, when I have to hook you up to that scanner, will…you… fail?”
And there: He saw what she was doing in that instant—allowing him to tell his truth in the only way he could, and he was more grateful than she could ever know because now, at last, he could answer, and it would be no lie.
“Yes,” he said.
“I don’t know what that is,” said Lense. Saad had her EVA suit now and when he shook it, a shower of grit rained upon rock with a sound like rice. “I have no idea.”
“It looks to be about your size.” Saad hefted the helmet. “Is it yours?”
She said nothing.
“This is a waste,” said Mara. “Let’s stop this little charade and—”
“Be quiet.” Saad hadn’t even turned around. His eyes fixed on Lense, and she felt her heart swell with anger. This was so stupid; what did the Prime Directive mean now? More than that, she didn’t want to lie to Saad, not anymore.
I care for him, and he cares for me, and that should count for something, shouldn’t it? In this whole crazy universe, doesn’t love count for anything?
And then her mind snagged on something else: Nerrit, and Saad’s source. Nerrit was coming, and that was unusual. Nerrit was coming all the way out here, but not because of her suit. Saad had her suit. But Nerrit’s coming was somehow about her, anyway. But that would have to mean that this was about somebody else, someone like her…
Oh, my God, my God!
“Elizabeth?”
“Yes?” She forced herself to focus just on Saad’s face and his eyes and everything there was for her in his heart she didn’t want to lose.
“Is this suit yours?”
She swallowed. “No.”
“Saad,” Mara began.
Saad held up a hand, and Mara sank back into silence. He looked like he was weighing something on a mental scale, debating how to ask the next question in a way that she might or could answer. Then he replaced her suit and laid her helmet on top and walked to her and knelt and took her hands in his.
“Well, then,” he said, very gently. “Answer me this, my love. Are you the only… one?”
She knew what he meant. More important, she knew who.
“No,” she said.
Kahayn still had him by his wrists. Whether she tethered him there, or this was a comfort to both of them, he didn’t know. It didn’t matter.
Bashir said, “So what now? What happens now?”
“That depends,” she said, “on how much you trust me.”
“Bashir,” Lense said. “His name is Julian Bashir. He’s a doctor, like me. We were traveling together and got…separated.”
“All right,” said Saad. He still knelt, still had her hands, but now there was uncertainty in his eyes. “Are you and he, are you…?”
“No. Just…we’re friends.”
His shoulders eased a bit. “Can you tell me where or how you got…?”
“No,” she said again. “But Julian’s why Nerrit’s coming, isn’t it?”
He nodded.
“And your contact?”
“Has a plan, a way to get us in by the footpath instead of the tram. It’s risky. And we’ve got to go now. Nerrit will be here in a few days, and it will take us that long just to get within striking distance of his convoy.”
“Saad,” said Mara. “Please. This isn’t wise.”
“Really?” he drawled. “I think you’ve made that abundantly clear.”
Lense saw the sudden hurt in Mara’s eyes. “Don’t
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