“You can operate a conveyance?” she asked when he was inside.
“Yeah, Tailless explained how. Didn’t tell me about the nav system.”
“Tailless? That’s not the guy who cut off his tail…”
Marshall grinned. “Yep. Everybody calls him that now.”
“That’s mean!”
“I didn’t start it! His wife did.”
“I would never call you a mean name.”
“Asshole isn’t mean?” he reminded her.
“I don’t call you that anymore!”
Marshall laughed and patted her hand. “I’m teasing.” He peered at a small screen on the dash. “Oh hell, this is easy.” He poked the screen. It beeped as he touched it. “We’re all set.”
He fired up the vehicle, she waved goodbye to Darmaine and Chartreuse, and they drove off into the sunrise.
* * * *
In the open, outside of Artisan’s Loft, it became clear the buildings had been situated to provide a windbreak. Driving across the tundra, the vehicle rocked and shuddered as it was buffeted by the howling wind. But inside the enclosed cab, she was toasty and draft-free.
“It’s nicer riding up front. Warmer.” She recalled the chilly journey to Refuge.
“Yes.”
“Your boss is a character.”
“Yeah.”
“He looks ancient.”
“He is. His people live to be about 500 years old.”
What did people do when they lived that long? “If we were that old, we would have been born before space travel, before electronic communication—before airplanes and cars and the Industrial Revolution. I can’t imagine what it would be like to live in such a primitive time—cooking over a fire, riding horses, using outhouses, doing laundry by hand.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “You can’t? We’re heating our cabin with animal shit.”
She laughed. “Good point.”
They rode in silence. Then: “I think your boss is matchmaking,” Marshall said.
“Do you mind?” She worried now he would have preferred to travel alone.
“No, I’m glad to have the company.” He stretched his arm over the seat back and around her shoulders. “Yourcompany.”
She scooted closer, hugged his forearm dangling over her shoulder. Her heart raced with awareness. Didn’t this seem like a date?
“You must have told her the circumstances surrounding our marriage,” he said.
Only that it wasn’t a love match.“Just the bare bones, that we didn’t know each other well, and you married me so I could get sanctuary. Nothing about Dark Ops. Is that okay?”
After a moment of silence, he sighed. “It’s fine. There’s no reason to keep Dark Ops a secret anymore anyway. We’re safe here, and everybody has a similar story to tell; they’re all running from something.”
She nodded. “Darmaine was a political prisoner. She’s married to Lucento. He was a prison guard and helped her escape.”
