Read Liberty Online

Authors: Annie Laurie Cechini

Liberty (25 page)

Quiet.

Too quiet.

I started to fidget with the zipper of my jacket. Calm and quiet were unusual and uncomfortable. I tried to make them go away by talking to Miriam. “So, uh ... how have things been going here? Have you heard any news about what’s been going on?”

“Oh yes, I have my ways of tracking the happenings of the rest of the System, even here,” replied Miriam. She adjusted the length of fabric hanging over her shoulder as we walked.

My jaw went slack as we waked through a set of double doors and into the cavernous hallways of her palatial home.

“Like it?” asked Miriam.

“It’s beautiful,” whispered Bell.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” added Berrett.

Hobson sneezed loudly. “Sorry,” he said with a sniff. “Must be the Neptunian dust mites.”

I put my arm around him. “I think you’re allergic to Miriam. It’s okay, Hobs. So am I.”

At the end of the hall a group of people were waiting.

“I would like you to escort our guests to their chambers and help them with anything they might need,” said Miriam. The servants nodded, and I was led to a bath chamber with a white tub supported by a warm wooden base. Out of curiosity I scratched at the wood with my fingernails, fully expecting to find the texture of metal under paint. To my surprise, the wood was real. I ran my hands along it, trying to memorize the feel. Next to the tub was a huge window that looked out on one of Neptune’s many oceans. There was soft music playing from somewhere, and a basket of soaking salts nestled into the corner of the bath. I turned the faucet and stared out the window as the tub filled with water.

We had done it. We had reunited my crew and Mama B. was safe. Due to its status as a sanctuary planet, Neptune was a virtual no-man’s land, inaccessible to both Eira and the SUN thanks to the sanctuary laws—and a dirty secret. Neptune had its own set of very large guns to shoot at anyone who tried to violate the laws of sanctuary. As long as we stayed on Neptunian soil, Hobson could have all the time he needed to work on the Eternigen formula and the rest of us could get a little rest. For the first time in years, I felt my stomach muscles relax.

I took off my clothes and lowered myself into the tub, allowing all my angst and stress to soak away. Fuzzy images of Berrett, me, and my crew slowly filled my mind’s eye. Finding a little corner of the universe where we could be safe together, be a family, and somehow find happiness overtook my daydreams as I allowed my mind to wander.

I must have fallen asleep, because what felt like only a few seconds later, the sun was setting in my eyes. I crawled out of the tub and wrapped a thick towel around my body. Someone knocked on the door.

“Captain?” asked Bell.

“Yeah, gimme a sec,” I said. I noticed a set of underthings and a sari had been laid out for me on a small bench next to the sink. I slid into the underthings, but couldn’t quite get the hang of how to work the sari.

I decided to let Bell in. She was better at girlie things than I was.

I opened the door and there she stood, holding the extra fabric in her arms and looking utterly baffled.

“You too, eh?” I asked.

She nodded. “Let’s go get someone to help us out.”

A few laughs and one very helpful servant later, Bell and I were dressed.

“I don’t know how the women survive in these things,” said Bell.

“You get used to it,” said the healer. “It’s actually quite comfortable.”

“Sure, if you don’t have to actually, you know, do anything,” I muttered.

Another servant came into the room. “Dinner is served. I’ll show you both to the dining hall.”

“Ah, welcome, ladies. I trust you found everything you needed?” asked Miriam.

“Yep,” I replied. “What have you all been up to?”

“Getting cleaned and settled, like you,” said Berrett. He pointed to the most delectable looking spread I had ever seen. “Hungry?”

“Yes!” I cried. I fell on my dinner like a ravenous wolf.

“So, since you’re all here and we have access to some of the best medical technology in the System, I’d like to do healing sessions with each of you. I’ll spend the rest of tonight working with the Berretts and Hobson. Tomorrow, I’ll work with CiCi, and if Bell and Captain Loveless are up for it, I’ll spend some time with them tomorrow as well. What are your thoughts?”

Everyone around the table nodded.

Everyone but me.

“Captain?” asked Miriam.

I sighed. “Look, first off, my name is Dix, okay? Just Dix.”

“Actually it’s Tabitha Dixon,” said Berrett. I kicked him under the table.

Miriam raised one eyebrow and pursed her lips. “And second?”

“Second, I don’t need a healing session. I don’t want one. I’m perfectly fine.”

Hobson chortled. I shot him my signature look of death, and he became very engrossed in devouring his entrée.

“You know, Dix, you’ve been through a lot, not only physically, but emotionally and mentally. You’ve been under a huge strain. Everyone else has admitted they can’t do it alone. I realize that’s difficult to do, but the fact is that we all need each oth—”

“Horseskud! I don’t need
anyone!
Just leave me the flark alone!”

I pushed my chair away from the table and stood up to leave—but not before grabbing my plate and a couple extra rolls. I was about five feet into the hall before I realized I had no idea how to get back to my room. I sheepishly turned around and faced Miriam.

“Uh ... which way to my room?” I asked.

Miriam examined her napkin. “First door on the left.”

I ran to my room and slammed the door shut. I let out a growl of unbridled frustration and tossed my food onto an end table. I paced around the room, stopping only to stare out the window. Eventually, I heard a quiet knock on my door.

“Go away, Miriam.”

“Can I talk to you about something?” Berrett asked.

Oops.

I grabbed a roll from the end table and stuffed it into my mouth.

“No.”

Berrett gently pushed the door open.

“I said
go away.
Drat, don’t these flarking doors have locks on them?”

“No, and you only said ‘go away’ when you thought I was Miriam. But I’m me. And you didn’t say go away, you said you didn’t want to talk.”

I crossed my arms and gulped down my roll. “Stop trying to ruin my irrationality with your stupid logic. Besides, I thought you were supposed to be mad at me and my annoying neck.”

Berrett slowly walked toward me.

“I was worried about Mama. I’m sorry about that. Dix ... we don’t have to talk.”

My heart suddenly started doing very strange and bizarre things. A cyclone of warm emotions whistled like a summer breeze up and down inside me as my eyes locked with Berrett’s.

He reached out to me and held my hand. “I just wanted to ... check in, you know? Make sure you’re okay.”

I broke away from his intense gaze and let go of his hand, moving away from him to retake my post facing the window. “Yeah, sure, I’m fine. How’s Bell? You check in on her too?” I asked.

“Dix, are you jealous?”

I spun around to face him. “What? You’re insane. What do I have to be jealous of? I don’t need anyone, anyway. Relationships are just—”

He reached for my face, caressed my cheek, and tucked a lock of hair behind my ears.

Apparently, shooting stars had been hiding in my shoes, because they fired off like rockets and roared through my body like a celestial train.

“Berrett ... I ...”

He put his finger on my lips. “Don’t.”

He leaned toward me, pulling me closer to him. I was so torn. My body and soul ached for every part of him to be tangled up in me, but my mind raged against these desires until the confusion grew too much to bear. I couldn’t give in to my feelings and still keep Berrett safe from my trail of destruction.

“I can’t. I can’t lose one more person!”

I pushed past him and ran out the door.

I ran faster and faster, the scented winds of Neptune pushing hard against me as daylight began to fade. I didn’t care.

I could outrun the wind.

RIPPING OFF THE BAND-AID
23

T
HAT NIGHT I SLEPT POORLY. I HAD SNUCK BACK INTO MY
room very late and had spent what little was left of the night tossing and turning. At six in the morning I finally gave up. I decided to explore the house. Yawning corridors were covered with vibrant oil paintings. Inlaid wooden side tables and dainty glass lamps stood in the spaces between paintings. Door after door opened into rooms much like mine. One door I tried opened into a cavernous room. I shined the light from my Cuff out into the room and saw the light reflect back from the opposite wall. Curiosity got the best of me and I flicked the light on.

The room was nearly as large as the ballroom I had danced in with Berrett, and in some ways even more luxurious. Plush red couches lined the walls, and hardwood floors stretched from the doorway to the small raised platform, which I assumed was meant for an orchestra. Tapestries hung from the walls and a strange translucent fabric hung in graceful curves from the ceiling so that you couldn’t tell where the fabric ended and the ceiling began. I closed my eyes and spun in little circles, mentally returning to the night I had danced with Berrett. I could never let him know how much he meant to me, how much emotion he had kindled in my heart, how much he’d inspired me in the short time I’d known him ... how much I loved him.

Flark. I love him.

I opened my eyes and started pacing the floor. “This is bad. This is very, very bad.”

“Tabitha?” I whirled around to see Mama B. poking her head through the doorway. “What are you up to, honey?”

“Exploring,” I said.

She smiled at me. “I’m headed to breakfast, you want to come?”

“Uh, I’m not all that hungry.”

Of course, at that precise moment, my stomach let out a series of growls that gave away my lie.

“Uh-huh.” Mama B. put her arm through mine and led me out of the ballroom. “Well, walk me down to the kitchen anyway, would you?”

I nodded.

“So, you doing okay?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“Really?”

I swallowed hard, trying my best to sound rational.

“Did Berrett talk to you?”

The words tumbled out of my mouth. Rational fail. Wow.

Mama B. smiled. “Actually, no, but he wasn’t his usual cheerful self this morning.”

“Oh.”

Mama B. laughed. “Oh, honey. I do not miss being your age.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. Only the people stuck in the past will try to tell you these are the best years of your life. If that was actually true, nobody would make it past eighteen.”

I smiled. “Refreshing to run into such an honest adult.”

She chuckled. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but I know Jordan. I can read that boy like a book, and he was a little grouchy last night before he left. Now, you’re a smart girl. Pair that information with the fact that despite your hunger, you don’t want to eat, and what is a mom like me going to assume?”

I chewed on my lower lip, trying hard not to curse. It took all my willpower.

“Can we talk about something else?” I asked. “Wait— where did Berrett go?”

“Miriam asked him to go into the mountains and spend the night camping up there. It’s a perfect day for it.”

“And what is he supposed to find up there, the meaning of life? How is a hike in the hills going to heal anyone? What a joke.” Instead of heading for the kitchen, Mama B. turned us out into the fresh air of the courtyard. I kicked one of the loose tiles and watched it fly into the fountain.

“Sometimes being alone in nature is good for the soul,” said Mama B. “I don’t know if you realize how much you and he have been through in the past two weeks. You really haven’t had one quiet moment to process any of it, and Jordan needs a little time to grieve.”

And the guilt monster reared its ugly and persistent head. I hung my own as we rounded the courtyard and headed back toward the house.

“That wasn’t a jab, Tabitha. There was nothing you could have done.”

“Hmph. Could have died falling from the
Misfit
like I was supposed to.”

“And that right there is why you need to talk to Miriam,” said Mama B. “Why are you afraid to talk to her?”

“I’m not afraid. I’d rather just talk to you.”

She laughed a full, joyful belly laugh. “I’m biased, honey. Remember, I’m Jordan’s mom.”

I shrugged. “Still rather talk to you.”

She smiled and patted my back. “Okay, honey. Talk to me about anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. I
hate
my name.”

“What?”

“I do. I have always hated it. Seriously, who names their kid Tabitha? I really didn’t mind that I was given an alias. I didn’t much care for Trudy, and I definitely didn’t like Berrett’s solution—”

“Ha! Morgan L. Fey. That kid cracks me up.”

I cleared my throat.

Mama B. pressed her lips together, clearly trying not to smile as she turned us back toward the house. “Sorry, honey. Go ahead.”

“I didn’t
like
being Morgan, but I liked it better than Tabitha.”

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