Winthrop, too.”
“Careful,” Convict barked, his backpack hitting the dirt as he raised his hands and beckoned her toward him. “You’re near the edge.”
She barely heard him. “We’re going to tell them about the plants. How they’re able to thrive in harsh heat and dirt similar to Earth’s changing environment. They’re going to agree on the need for further study, and we’re going to give Earth and my sister and my brother a fighting chance at living a full life.”
“Stop.” He sounded furious. And cruel.
She shook her head, tears blurring her face. “I’m not listening to you anymore.” Her boot slipped near the edge, but she kept stepping backwards, needing distance, needing a barrier from the awful things he was telling her. “Stay back.”
The ground gave way beneath her feet.
She screamed. Just as strong hands seized her forearms.
“God damn it.” Convict hauled her close, pulling her back from the edge as the sound of falling rocks echoed in her ears. “What did I tell you that first day, female?” He shook her gently. “You need to give up your dreams of Earth. You need to come to grips with the fact that you’re on Dragath25 now.” He jerked her close again. “You have to do that or you’ll never survive.”
“I thought you meant for the short term,” she shouted back, pushing at his chest. “I didn’t think you meant forever. Tell me you’re lying.”
“I can’t.”
“No!” She struggled to get away. From his words. From the sincerity in his gaze. From the awful truth of what this meant for her brother and sister.
If she was declared missing or dead, Council contracts stated that all dependents would be removed from protective Council housing and resource distribution. Her sweet, young sister and brother would be sent back to the orphan barracks where she’d grown up. A soulless, miserable place where starvation, death, and predators were a way of life. And this time she wouldn’t be there to protect them.
“You’re wrong,” she insisted. “A rescue shuttle is coming to save us.” She pressed. Shoved. And all the time he held her. His grip firm, but not painful. Just waiting it out. Waiting her out.
Until her pants gave way to sobs and her arms fell lifelessly at her side. “I don’t…I don’t want to be here forever.”
Expression grim, he pulled her close, holding her tight. His big, strong hands running up and down her spine, her only anchor. “It’s okay, fighter girl. It’s okay.”
But it wasn’t. She wasn’t sure it would ever be again.
*****
Convict held her tight trying to comfort them both. Even on Earth, he hadn’t been so good at it. He’d been a pilot and a soldier, and even when home on leave from Command Council business, he and his wife had led fairly separate lives. He’d understood. He was home so infrequently. She had to make a life for herself. But he hadn’t understood when she’d started sleeping with the married Council representative of their district.
“Convict?”
“Yeah?” He didn’t mean to sound so gruff, but she was staring up at him, her gorgeous face streaked with tears, her fingers curled against his chest, and his throat had gone a little tight.
He’d thought for an instant he’d lost her over the cliff, that he wouldn’t be fast enough to reach her in time, and his heart was still coming to grips with the matter. Which was dumber than dumb. Growing attached to anything on Dragath25 was a recipe for disappointment.
“No one’s coming?” Her voice sounded small. Not like his fighter girl at all.
Still, he wouldn’t give her anything but the truth. “They’re coming, but they won’t make it out alive.”
She shuddered against him. “I can’t just let it happen.”
He played with the ends of her hair, reveling in the soft brush of silk against his palms. “There’s no way to stop it. Surviving on this planet is hard enough. Trying to take on 225 and his pack will only get you killed alongside them.”
“But to do nothing….” Her words ended on a sob.
“Remember what I told you.” He tried to keep the edge from his voice, but it wasn’t easy. Her softness—any softness—reminded him of his initial conclusion that she wouldn’t last long—and that already displeased him more than it should. “Earth rules don’t apply here. Worry for yourself.”
She didn’t respond. He didn’t say anything more, either. Just savored the pleasure of holding her warm and willing and trusting against him.
“Convict?” He should have known the silence wouldn’t last. His fighter girl was a talker.