Playing at Grown ups

A Pink Dormouse Production

Chapter Twenty One

Avon

He was getting far too accustomed to having Vila around. He had slept not at all well the previous night and was very disturbed by those dreams that he could remember vividly. He needed something to blot them out. Vila usually had at least one bottle of suitably vile cheap brandy secreted somewhere...

The click of the downstairs lock had sounded normal but the steps on the stairs were not Vila. Avon turned around on the sofa and covered the door with the blaster in his left hand while he sprung the blade on the flick-knife in his right. Marianne entered and raised her hands.

"Only me. Vila had to do some work in the cellar for Gems: she’s off lifting, on medical advice." Avon reholstered the gun and put the knife back on the table. "Bit early to be drinking, isn’t it?"

"Would you say that to Vila?" Avon answered her question with one of his own.

"I don’t think I’ve ever seen him touch booze before his shift. I came round to see if you wanted to start installing the detector shield on the Sappho but if you don’t feel like it, I could stick around and save you from drinking on your own. Any cold beers?"

"Bound to be some in there." Avon gestured in the direction of the galley. Marianne fetched a bottle and sat down at the other end of the sofa.

"Look, I’m sorry about facing you down last night."

"Don’t let it worry you. I may have been over-reacting a little myself. I would prefer if you took someone other than Vila when you test the deflector shield."

"You know I’d never let anything happen to him."

Avon forced himself to ignore the memories that suggested Marianne might be more reliable on that count than he was and poured himself another glass of brandy.

"Even you cannot allow for every possible problem."

"I’ve outlived some good people. I won’t be losing any more if I can help it... are you cold?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"You’re shivering. Why don’t you come over here a bit?"

Avon took a deep breath and tried to force his heart to stop pounding against his rib cage.

"It’s ok: I don’t bite." Now, that he could relate to; he gave her a sly smile.

"I might."

"I’ll risk it." Marianne opened another bottle of beer and put her feet on the table. Avon stretched out on the sofa and rested his head against her chest. The leather waistcoat smelled new but was supple enough to match her contours perfectly.

"Feeling better?"

"Infinitely." She was stroking his hair so he turned his head slightly to bite a finger.

"Oh, no, I’m not playing that game. You behave yourself and I’ll tell you another tale of my misspent youth. What would you like to hear about?"

"Why did you leave the SCorps?"

"I told Vila that last night. Wouldn’t you rather hear about something less depressing?"

"No." Whatever had happened could never compare to anything he had been through...

"I left home to join the SCorps when I was fourteen. Of course I found out later that my brothers had talked to the Fleet Chief Marshall and made it perfectly clear what would happen if I was mistreated in any way. He kept me away from active combat for three years then I was offered the opportunity to serve on the Ace of Spades. I jumped at the chance: it was the best ship in the fleet and... well, I’d had a bit of a crush on Dariel for a long time."

"Singularly pointless," Avon commented, refilling his glass again.

"Doubly so: back then he only had eyes for Roal. Has Dariel ever told you about him?" Avon shook his head. "They had been part of Old Ma Bayban’s crew originally."

"Bayban the Butcher’s mother?"

"Grandmother. And she never forgave her son for marrying against her advice. When piracy got a bit too tame for Dariel and Roal they signed up with the SCorps, bringing the Ace with them. By the time I joined them as co-pilot they were well on the way to becoming a legend. Roal looked after the weaponry, Monique was navigator- she came from one of the very oldest Earth colonies- and Kip, the only other Astbury-born crewman, was the pilot. Kip and Monique took care of me so I never really had time to think about what I was missing with Dariel.

"Anyway we went straight into battle with the Space Rats. The war had been raging a couple of years and both sides had taken heavy casualties. I learnt a lot about thinking on my feet and we played a big part in turning the tide of the war. The last of the Space Rats who hadn’t fled the sector holed up on a moon in the Massyn System. Some of the heavy cruisers had been keeping up a barrage from orbit but the Rats just retreated deeper underground. Eventually it seemed the only answer was a ground assault. The Ace was chosen over the usual troop carriers as we needed a ship that could outrun anything the Rats had and we were using bombs rather than hand to hand combat so she could carry all the ground troops with room to spare. Roal, Monique and I went in with the infantry and Dariel and Kip stayed on the ship.

"The Rats were expecting something, the barrage had to ease off for us to get in and they must have figured out we were trying something new. We got the charges planted okay but they ambushed us on the way out. There wasn’t much time so we all ran for it. I was one of the few who made it above ground before the explosions started; I can run faster than most people when I have to. We managed to pick off the last of the Rats then I yelled to the others to get to the ship and ran back into the start of the tunnels."

Avon flinched, unsure if he wanted to hear the rest.

"There wasn’t much moving in there, Monique was dead; looked like someone shot her before the roof came down where she fell. Roal... there was no way he was going to get out of there- he was barely breathing- and what was left of his legs was buried under a rock fall. I still see his eyes staring at me sometimes."

"You killed him?"

"Point-blank range with my blaster. Never fired one since. You still okay?"

"Yes." He would never tell her otherwise and she probably knew it. "What happened after?"

"I threw one last charge in there to give them a decent burial then we headed back to Base. The war was over and we were heroes but I don’t think any of us felt like it. Dariel continued as before; much as he loved Roal, they had always been expecting death. I took time out to see my brothers. Then we heard that Kip had got himself killed; he’d taken a ship out with a fucked main drive and it had blown. He must have known what would happen.

"That was it for me, I bought my way out with my inheritance and got away from the sector for a while. Told you my story didn’t have a happy ending."

Avon sat up, finished his drink and put the glass down on the table. He studied Marianne.

If Cally had still been... could I? Even if that was what she wanted? Is Marianne a stronger person, or just the result of her training? "Would you do the same over again?"

"In the same circumstances? Yes. Roal was a warrior; he deserved to die with some dignity."

"What about someone else in a similar situation?"

"It would all depend... Look, I’m not intending to drag Vila into any potentially dangerous situations. If he wants to come on a run, I promise I’ll take good care of him."

"Why do you assume I was referring to Vila?"

"Come on, Avon, that’s what you really wanted to know, isn’t it?"

"No."

He backed away as far from her on the sofa as he could. To say more would mean telling her details about the nightmares that he was not prepared to share with Storme or Vila, never mind with someone who could use the information against him.

"I think you should put the knife down," Marianne said calmly. Avon looked at his hands; he had no recollection of picking it up but no desire to put it back on the table either.

"I think you should leave."

"With you acting like this? Vila would never forgive me."

"Just go."

Marianne stood up and walked out, Avon poured another brandy.

It seemed that no time had passed when Vila walked in and sat down next to him.

"Marianne was worried about you so she said she’d look after the bar for me. What’s up?"

"Nothing."

"Really?" Vila took the flick-knife out of Avon’s hand, closed it and placed it on the table. "What were you planning on doing with that then?"

Nothing you would approve of... As far as Avon could work out blades occupied at least three positions on Vila’s list of ‘Reasons for Worrying About Avon’. This opinion was completely unjustified since Avon had done nothing he considered self-destructive with a blade in at least ten years.

"And why’re you drinkin’ this stuff? I had one glass and decided it was only good for drain cleaner."

Avon shrugged.

"Look, you don’t need to fret about anything happening to me or Marianne while we’re away. We’re goin’ to stay in independent space the whole time."

"So you’re definitely going then?"

"As soon as the detector shield’s fitted. If you don’t get your act together and start on it tomorrow, I’m sure one of the others could help Marianne wi’ it."

"And if I asked you to stay?"

"You’d have to give me a damn good reason. I need a break, Avon, I can’t go on doin’ this wi’out one."

"And what of me?"

"You’ve got Storme to talk to. I won’t be away long, say a week at most. This isn’t just about you; it’s about me as well."

"I thought you and I had something." Not the best way of putting it but Avon was at a loss to explain why he was so close to panicking over something so minor.

"We do. Stop makin’ it sound like I’m leavin’ for good. If it makes you feel any better, I promise I’ll steal somethin’ nice for you while I’m away."

"It’s a pointless risk. I don’t want you to go."

"Don’t be so bloody childish."

"I wasn’t-"

"You were. I’m going and that’s final. End of story." Vila walked out calmly, slamming the door in a far from calm manner. Avon poured himself another drink.

On to Chapter Twenty Two

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