Page 2 of Seven Oars
Ren came in, a tall man, on the lean side no matter how much he ate. The sight of him was familiar and dear to Rosamma. He was as much a part of her as she was of him.
He came alone.
“Where’s Paloma?” Rosamma asked, referring to Ren’s girlfriend, co-conspirator, and often the driving force behind his wild ideas, like this plan to space-immigrate from Meeus illegally.
“Home. Still working out the kinks in the security breach. No room for mistakes and all that.”
“God forbid,” Gro muttered.
The women tuned in, listening to Ren’s every word.
“Don’t worry,” he grinned, addressing the room.“Paloma doesn’t make mistakes. My baby’s good like that.”
Someone chuckled. Rosamma smiled too, but inside she felt a little perturbed. She loved Paloma. She was happy for Ren. She only wished Paloma weren’t the imaginative and intrepid hacker who always poked her nose into business that could end very badly for her and Ren. Even the most meticulously laid-out plans could go awry.
“How are you doing, Rose?” Ren sat beside her on the spindly foldable bed, which wobbled precariously. Their hands found each other and linked.
“Not bad at all. Ready and set to become a space tourist.”
He smiled her smile back at her.
Aside from their smiles and similar light-colored eyes, they looked nothing like a brother and sister, much less twins.
Ren was a normal-looking human male.
And she was a freak. A half-formed version of a human. Or an unfinished Tana-Tana alien. She was both and neither, as if caught in the middle of some unfortunate full-moon transition between the two races.
That was on the outside.
On the inside, their situations were reversed. She, Rosamma, had all the physicality and characteristics of an average human woman, whereas Ren leaned strongly toward his Tana-Tana alien side. He even moved like a Tana-Tana when he wanted, fast and stealthy, ghost-like.
Their linked hands warmed and created a small bubble of energy felt only by the two of them.
“How is Lyle?” Rosamma asked, her voice low enough that the rest of the room couldn’t hear her.
“Not as well as we want him to be.”
Ren didn’t say anything more, and that only meant there was no good news. Their capable Rix pilot, Lyle, was dying.
Rosamma’s heart broke for him. Despite his checkered past, Lyle was such a good man. Alien. A really solid one. He loved and was loved in return. He didn’t deserve to die now.
“Do you think I can…”
“No. You can’t, Rose.” Ren’s voice was gentle but firm.“He needs more than your energy.”
Rosamma lowered her eyes to their clasped hands.
“What is going to happen to all of… this?” she whispered. As far as she knew, Ren and Paloma didn’t have another friendly space pilot with Lyle’s particular skillset, such as stealing ships from space depots.
Ren chose his words carefully.“We shall wait for him to recover. Cricket has faith, and so should we.”
Rosamma nodded. It had to be brutal for Cricket, Lyle’s love, to watch her world crash and burn, and have her heart ripped out of her chest because her mate was slipping away. If Lyle died, Cricket’s life would be nothing but a string of bleak gray days without joy.
Suddenly, Rosamma’s own loneliness had an upside. She was safe from the pain of a debilitating heartbreak. One couldn’t lose what one didn’t have, could they?
After they finished their energy exchange and unlinked their hands, Ren hung around for a while and talked to the women, explaining the need for more patience.
They accepted the message with outward calm, but it was easy to sense everyone’s disappointment.
