After a tutorial on construction, a demo on the machines, and an extended safety lecture, the shop foreman had started them building tables. Refuge had plans for another settlement requiring furniture, plus the shop had gotten an order from a neighboring village. There were two workers out, an alien woman who had the day off, and an alien man recuperating after severing his tail on the saw.
“As long as we don’t cut anything off,” Bragg added.
He chuckled. “Yeah.” He finished off the sandwich, washing it down with a slug from his canteen. The water tasted sweet here, not like chemicals. He loved the freedom of having totalcontrol over his work, nobody monitoring his every move. He didn’t have to worry a casual comment would be misconstrued and used against him. If he screwed up—nobody died. Unless he accidentally cut off a critical body part. He stifled a grin. Poor guy.
“What’s so funny?
“Just appreciating the refreshing change from Dark Ops.”
“That is something to smile about.” Bragg sniffed his sandwich and then took a big bite.
Maybe now, he’ll stop talking and let me finish lunch in peace.He peered into his box. There was some sort of fruit in there, too. He bit into it. Sweet. Nice.
Ah, the simple life.Some of the tools they used he’d never seen outside of a museum.
He wondered how Amity liked her job. Occupations at Artisan’s Loft shared a commonality—they employed ancient crafts using archaic equipment to produce practical articles. Faith had always done that with her pottery, but handicrafts were new to the rest of them. Would Amity love weaving or hate it?
He had enjoyed their conversation before and after dinner. Even more than on their date. Last night had been honest. He hadn’t been faking. He’d been himself.
It had felt good, right, to sleep with her. Literally, not euphemistically, yet it had been surprisingly intimate. He’d never spent the entire night with a woman ever. He’d always made himself scarce after the deed. After Amity had fallen asleep, he’d lain awake feeling her warmth, inhaling her scent, listening to her breathe. Did she know she snored? He smiled.
“You sure are grinning a lot,” Bragg said. “It’s not like you.”
He chuckled then. “Maybe it’s a new me.”
“Dark Ops never gave us much to smile about.”
“True that.”
“Thanks,” Bragg said. “I don’t remember if I said that or not.” Thanks for getting him sanctuary on Refuge, he meant.
“You didn’t.” Marshall’s lip twitched. “But, you’re welcome.”
“Why me?”
“Somebody had to save you from yourself.” He did not wish to get into the weeds of effusive emotion. A simple thank-you sufficed. “I was your commanding officer.”
“You had a lot of men under your command.”
“They weren’t all clones.” He actually had no idea how many were. He had his suspicions about several of them but didn’t know. Except for Bragg, whom he’d seen mature in the gestation tank. Bragg, who’d fallen in love with his progenitor’s widow. Who would have done anything for her, even if it got him nothing.
He’d convinced himself he’d told Bragg Faith was looking to remarry to squelch the man’s interest, but what if the opposite was true? What if subconsciously he’d wished to see love and loyalty succeed? When he’d accidentally-on-purpose let it slip that Faith had joined Cosmic Mates, Bragg had taken after her like a bullet. Hadn’t he really known that would occur?
Marshall wondered if he had it in him to care that deeply or if two decades of conscription to Dark Ops had drained him of all but shallow, tepid emotion. He liked Amity. His regard for her had grown. He was attracted to her. He enjoyed her company. If he had to get stuck with a wife, she was probably as good as any. Actually, he couldn’t think of a single female he would have preferred.
But did he have the capacity to love her? It bothered him he might be incapable of loving anybody.
Still, he was glad her Cosmic Mates date with the Nagarian had been a bust. If it had worked out, he wouldn’t have been able to marry her. “This year might not be so bad,” he said.
Bragg’s face split into a grin.
“What are you smiling about?”
“Nothing.” The smile broadened.
“Fuck you and what you think you know,” Marshall said good-naturedly.
* * * *
