Page 69 of The Lottery

Finally, unhappily, we part and head back to our rooms. I can’t imagine actually taking a nap, not with the promise of being with Marek without prying eyes for days and days.

It’s hard enough just to leave him and walk into my room.

When I see Robert laying on the couch, his leg propped up on pillows, I paste a smile onto my face. He doesn’t deserve my bad humor. It’s not his fault I zinged with the wrong guy.

He raises his eyebrows in surprise when he sees me. “I thought you’d explore Mars a little longer. How is it?”

“It’s amazing. But, yeah, came back to get ready for… a lot of stuff.” God this is awkward. I feel like I owe him… something. Courtesy certainly. Beyond that, he doesn’t need to know what I’m doing. Or does he? It’s an impossible dance and we both keep tripping over each other’s toes.

“Sure,” he says. “I just…”

Before he can finish his sentence, a man walks out of our bathroom.

“You are nearly out of the paper,” the man says.

I gawk a moment longer than polite. “Ivan?”

He smiles. “Hello. Yes. I am here to help take care of our friend so you have freedom to explore.”

“Hope that’s okay,” Robert says with a sheepish shrug. “Ivan and I have become good friends, and I can’t get around by myself just yet.” He gestures to his leg.

“Of course that’s okay. I should have thought about you needing someone looking after you.” Another way I’m totally failing at this whole game.

Robert fidgets with his watch as he shakes his head. “You don’t have to take care of me like that. I know… I know that....” He pauses, and I wonder if he’s changing his mind about what to say because Ivan is here. Robert and I haven’t ever discussed the elephant in the room. The fact that we have zero chemistry or interest in each other romantically or sexually. We’re barely friends.

“I know that this whole thing has been hard for you. And I just want you to know, I don’t want to make it harder,” he says.

I smile a softer, more genuine smile than the one I mustered moments before. “Thank you, Robert. You’re a good man.”

I move to my wardrobe and begin packing as Ivan and Robert settle into a conversation about the best way to season pork.

I didn’t know Robert enjoyed cooking. I should have asked more questions.

But when I glance at them, sharing good conversation and a glass of wine, I’m grateful he found a friend. I think of Lana and feel bad that I haven’t reached out more, spent more time with her. At least she made it through the landing with no injuries.

Once I’m packed, I take a quick shower and change into black slacks and a black sweater. My jacket and gloves are still out from earlier, and my boots are by the door.

I pour myself a drink, tell Robert and Ivan of the burial plans and the trip for supplies, then shuffle to the bed, pretending I might be able to nap before the funeral.

* * *

I’m wide awake when Metis calls for us to leave the ship. I offer a quick goodbye to Robert and Ivan, then rush out of our suite breathlessly. Marek is waiting for me in the hall.

We walk casually down the corridor, hoping no one’s getting suspicious of how often we end up together. As we go, I mention Ivan tending to Robert in my suite.

“Ivan, really? How interesting. Ivan is a good man. When we travel tomorrow, I can tell you more about him.”

He smiles and I start thinking about much more than just the stories we can tell in private. The thoughts set my body aflame.

I clear my throat, my pulse quickening at my instant arousal.

I hope no one notices my flushed cheeks as we climb out the door and make our way to the crowd that has already gathered.

Buddy stands stiffly next to the makeshift rowboat crafted to be Nicolette’s last resting place. I feel a twinge of sympathy for him. But only a twinge. If he was such an ass with me, what was he like with her?

Marek put a team together to care for the body and bring her to the shore. She is dressed in a white sundress, her wavy blond hair falling elegantly around her shoulders. She doesn’t look asleep, as some might say. She looks vacant to me. No longer here. Her expression is calm at least. I wonder about the raft, fashioned from thick bamboo and reeds. Who built it and how? Marek has been busy.

We all stand in silence as the floating casket is set adrift in the blood-red water. The sun dips toward the horizon, though it’s a smaller speck in the sky than we’re used to seeing on Earth. The orange beams flicker across the waves as volcano peaks cast long shadows in the distance. The effect is beautiful and dramatic. Familiar and alien.

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