Avalon
Page 54
Cora sat at the gaming table, playing with an art program that allowed her to draw pictures on the table’s touch-screen surface with her fingers.
“Hello, Cora,” Jeth said, walking over to her.
She smiled up at him. She looked so normal, nothing at all like the creature in his nightmares. She seemed so human. Maybe the test had been wrong. Maybe the Belgrave had distorted the results somehow. Stranger things have happened.
Everything from the night before seemed less intense now that it was morning. Jeth wondered if Milton was just being paranoid. He’d been very drunk, not mention his emotional jag from watching the video journals.
Jeth shifted his gaze toward Cora’s drawings. He’d expected hearts and rainbows, maybe a unicorn or two. Instead he saw a crude outline of a spaceship he easily recognized as the Donerail.
Cora was drawing little circles on it.
“What are you doing?” Jeth said, unsettled by the slow, methodical motion of her hand as she trailed her fingers around and around.
“Drawing,” Cora said with no hint of sarcasm.
Jeth let out a breath, wondering if maybe Cora had seen whatever had done the damage to the Donerail. He knew children were supposed to be more perceptive about certain things. Or maybe her strange DNA gave her special sight or something. “Are those circles supposed to be the holes on the other ship?”
She nodded.
“Did you see what made those holes?”
She pressed her lips together.
“Cora,” Jeth said, assuming his best parental voice, the kind his father had always used when he thought Jeth was hiding something, “did you see what made those holes?”
“What’s going on?” a voice said from behind Jeth.
He straightened from his hunched position and turned to see Sierra watching him, her expression wary. “Cora was just explaining her drawing to me.”
“I see.”
Jeth frowned at the tone of her voice. True, he didn’t know her very well, but he’d lived with girls all his life. And he had no trouble recognizing the universal sound of an unhappy female. She was pissed at him about something. Just what, he couldn’t say. In his experience, girls rarely needed a rational reason. “Something wrong?”
“No. I mean . . . yes.” She turned and walked across the room, motioning for him to follow.
He did so, mentally bracing himself for a scolding.
“Look,” Sierra whispered the moment he was in earshot. “I know that Cora really likes you and everything, but that doesn’t give you the right to start asking her questions about what happened on the Donerail. That experience was too traumatic to ask a child to relive it.”
Jeth opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. He supposed she was right. He tried to imagine how he would’ve felt when he was Cora’s age, seeing that man stuck in the wall. I’d probably be scarred for life. “I’m sorry.”
Momentary surprise crossed Sierra’s face. “It’s okay. I should’ve mentioned it earlier.”
Jeth nodded, realizing now was the perfect opportunity to ask her what Cora really was. He racked his brains for the best way to phrase the question, but nothing came to him. They all sounded so awful. So what is Cora, anyway? Or Is Cora some kind of genetic experiment? Or Is Cora an alien?
He could barely think the questions with any kind of seriousness, let alone say them. Because no matter what Milton’s test results might indicate, what Jeth saw was a little girl, bright and maybe a tad unusual, but still sweet and funny and about as normal as everybody else on this ship.
“Are you all right?” asked Sierra, frowning.
Jeth ran a hand through his hair, his fingers snagging in the long strands. He seriously needed a haircut. “I’m fine. Why?”
“It looks like you slept in your clothes.”
He glanced down. “Uh . . . that’s because I did.” It had been so late by the time he got back from the Donerail, he hadn’t bothered with undressing. He shrugged. “It happens.”
“Oh-kay,” Sierra said, her voice skeptical. “So, we’ll be leaving soon?”
“Yep, Flynn should be just about done with the diagnostics.”
“Right. Then I suppose it’s time for me to get the data cell off the Donerail.”
It took Jeth a moment to realize what she’d said. When he did, relief flooded him, making him giddy. She’d been telling the truth after all. At least about the data cell. That was good enough for him. He didn’t have to confront her about anything. He briefly wondered why she was revealing it now when he’d expected her to wait until the very last moment, but then he remembered what Vince had told him: She’s starting to trust you.
He grinned, fighting back the sudden urge to kiss her. “Great,” he said. “Want me to come with you?”
She nodded.
His grin widened. “Just give me a sec to fetch my coat.”
“Meet me at the shuttle.”
* * *
Several minutes later, he and Sierra entered Sparky. This was the first time he’d been completely alone with her since they’d kissed. He tried his best not to think about that, but failed miserably. He was too happy, too relieved, to ignore his attraction to her. He was hyperaware of her every move, the way she crossed and uncrossed her legs or folded her hands in her lap or rested them on the sides of her chair.
He could tell she was tense, too, and he could only guess it was for the same reason. He wanted to kick himself for avoiding her these last few days. What harm would a little kissing do? The thought should have scared him, and yet it didn’t. Instead, it only bolstered his confidence. Everything was going to work out all right for once. He was certain of it.
“Hello, Cora,” Jeth said, walking over to her.
She smiled up at him. She looked so normal, nothing at all like the creature in his nightmares. She seemed so human. Maybe the test had been wrong. Maybe the Belgrave had distorted the results somehow. Stranger things have happened.
Everything from the night before seemed less intense now that it was morning. Jeth wondered if Milton was just being paranoid. He’d been very drunk, not mention his emotional jag from watching the video journals.
Jeth shifted his gaze toward Cora’s drawings. He’d expected hearts and rainbows, maybe a unicorn or two. Instead he saw a crude outline of a spaceship he easily recognized as the Donerail.
Cora was drawing little circles on it.
“What are you doing?” Jeth said, unsettled by the slow, methodical motion of her hand as she trailed her fingers around and around.
“Drawing,” Cora said with no hint of sarcasm.
Jeth let out a breath, wondering if maybe Cora had seen whatever had done the damage to the Donerail. He knew children were supposed to be more perceptive about certain things. Or maybe her strange DNA gave her special sight or something. “Are those circles supposed to be the holes on the other ship?”
She nodded.
“Did you see what made those holes?”
She pressed her lips together.
“Cora,” Jeth said, assuming his best parental voice, the kind his father had always used when he thought Jeth was hiding something, “did you see what made those holes?”
“What’s going on?” a voice said from behind Jeth.
He straightened from his hunched position and turned to see Sierra watching him, her expression wary. “Cora was just explaining her drawing to me.”
“I see.”
Jeth frowned at the tone of her voice. True, he didn’t know her very well, but he’d lived with girls all his life. And he had no trouble recognizing the universal sound of an unhappy female. She was pissed at him about something. Just what, he couldn’t say. In his experience, girls rarely needed a rational reason. “Something wrong?”
“No. I mean . . . yes.” She turned and walked across the room, motioning for him to follow.
He did so, mentally bracing himself for a scolding.
“Look,” Sierra whispered the moment he was in earshot. “I know that Cora really likes you and everything, but that doesn’t give you the right to start asking her questions about what happened on the Donerail. That experience was too traumatic to ask a child to relive it.”
Jeth opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. He supposed she was right. He tried to imagine how he would’ve felt when he was Cora’s age, seeing that man stuck in the wall. I’d probably be scarred for life. “I’m sorry.”
Momentary surprise crossed Sierra’s face. “It’s okay. I should’ve mentioned it earlier.”
Jeth nodded, realizing now was the perfect opportunity to ask her what Cora really was. He racked his brains for the best way to phrase the question, but nothing came to him. They all sounded so awful. So what is Cora, anyway? Or Is Cora some kind of genetic experiment? Or Is Cora an alien?
He could barely think the questions with any kind of seriousness, let alone say them. Because no matter what Milton’s test results might indicate, what Jeth saw was a little girl, bright and maybe a tad unusual, but still sweet and funny and about as normal as everybody else on this ship.
“Are you all right?” asked Sierra, frowning.
Jeth ran a hand through his hair, his fingers snagging in the long strands. He seriously needed a haircut. “I’m fine. Why?”
“It looks like you slept in your clothes.”
He glanced down. “Uh . . . that’s because I did.” It had been so late by the time he got back from the Donerail, he hadn’t bothered with undressing. He shrugged. “It happens.”
“Oh-kay,” Sierra said, her voice skeptical. “So, we’ll be leaving soon?”
“Yep, Flynn should be just about done with the diagnostics.”
“Right. Then I suppose it’s time for me to get the data cell off the Donerail.”
It took Jeth a moment to realize what she’d said. When he did, relief flooded him, making him giddy. She’d been telling the truth after all. At least about the data cell. That was good enough for him. He didn’t have to confront her about anything. He briefly wondered why she was revealing it now when he’d expected her to wait until the very last moment, but then he remembered what Vince had told him: She’s starting to trust you.
He grinned, fighting back the sudden urge to kiss her. “Great,” he said. “Want me to come with you?”
She nodded.
His grin widened. “Just give me a sec to fetch my coat.”
“Meet me at the shuttle.”
* * *
Several minutes later, he and Sierra entered Sparky. This was the first time he’d been completely alone with her since they’d kissed. He tried his best not to think about that, but failed miserably. He was too happy, too relieved, to ignore his attraction to her. He was hyperaware of her every move, the way she crossed and uncrossed her legs or folded her hands in her lap or rested them on the sides of her chair.
He could tell she was tense, too, and he could only guess it was for the same reason. He wanted to kick himself for avoiding her these last few days. What harm would a little kissing do? The thought should have scared him, and yet it didn’t. Instead, it only bolstered his confidence. Everything was going to work out all right for once. He was certain of it.
