“I even knew before I left,” Jackson said. “But I did it anyway.”
“I just wanted to be good at something,” Talia said.
Jackson patted her own leg like she wanted to make a point. “You shouldn’t have tried to do this alone. We’re a team.”
“Yes.” She knew that now. “You’re right.”
“I miss my husband,” Jackson said, and, shockingly, began to cry. For a second, the sheer implausibility of the moment left Talia frozen. Then she moved to Jackson and put her arms around her.
“It’s okay,” Talia said. “We’ll be okay.”
* * *
—
They drank and talked more and when Talia couldn’t stand straight, Jackson said she could sleep in her bed. This was such an exciting idea that Talia accepted, even though she probably could have made it to her own cabin. She snuggled into Jackson’s sheets and inhaled her smell and it felt like she had crawled all the way into Jackson’s life. She fell asleep happy.
At some point she became aware of Jackson making an extraction, zipping up her flight jacket. She looked yellow in the glowlights. Talia raised her head.
“Stay, if you want,” said Jackson.
“Mmm.” She did want to stay. She wanted to talk some more. There was so much to discuss now that she’d found a door into Jackson’s brain. “Where are you going?”
Jackson nodded in the general direction of the rest of the ship.
Ah, Talia thought. I see.
Jackson left. Talia rolled over and hugged the pillow and closed her eyes. But she couldn’t forget where she was, and opened them again. She wondered whether Jackson had run away or if she genuinely had something to do. She could actually check that, if she wanted.
Hey, Jolene, I really enjoyed our talk last night.
Yes, me too, Beanfield.
I thought maybe you and me could hang out, watch a movie. Or just talk. Do you have any more to drink? I feel like we have a lot more to explore.
Actually, I have a busy roster today, Beanfield. I’m on a tight schedule.
But Jolene, you have all that time to write letters. And I can see your schedule. I can track your movements. I can see where you are every moment.
She stayed in the cabin for five hours. At a certain point she realized she was being obnoxious; she was deliberately testing Jackson, and both of them would know it. But she stayed anyway until she finally saw Jackson heading back on ping. When the door slid back, it became clear that Jackson had been monitoring Talia’s ping as well, because she was wearing her captain face, the one that betrayed nothing.
“Hi,” Talia said.
Jackson pressed the tactile panel to close the door. There was a silence. “It’s time for you to go.”
So blunt. So Jackson. “Okay.”
Jackson had clearly expected a fight. But it had been five hours, which was plenty of time for Talia to run roleplays in her head and prepare responses. “You’re a good soldier,” Jackson said.
“What?” she said, because this one she hadn’t anticipated.
“You’re a good soldier.”
“Oh,” she said. “Thank you.” But this annoyed her. Talia was a bad soldier. They both knew that. Was that not the conclusion they’d reached? That they were failing, but that was okay? Wasn’t that the comfort Jackson was offering? Now she was turning it into a lie.
“We still have roles,” Jackson said. “I don’t want to become dysfunctional.”
“Why would we become dysfunctional?” she said breezily, and Jackson looked disappointed, and that was that. But almost as soon as Talia had left, she answered her own question. It had always felt a little overdone to Talia how Jackson walked around like she couldn’t afford to crack a smile in case that was the moment the salamanders attacked, but she’d swallowed that because Jackson was captain, so, sure, why not go ahead and play the part? Clearly she was a piece of stunt casting designed to boost public sentiment and couldn’t