chapter 41
PROMISE
The citizens of Yucca held another bonfire to welcome Jessamyn Jaarda, rogue pilot and deserter of Mars Colonial. The cellist
declined to bring his instrument out from its climate-controlled case, but the fiddler played merrily and Pavel got his wish to dance
with the young men and women of Yucca, and most especially, with Jessamyn. In twos and threes, the people of the small enclave
bid their newest guest welcome and then goodnight until only a handful swayed by the embers of the fire to fiddle melodies that grew
sadder and sadder as the stars wheeled across the night sky.
Ethan and Kazuko had said their goodnights early, with Brian and Harpreet not far behind. But Pavel remained with Jessamyn,
never too far away. He was a favorite with several of the village’s children, Jess noted. At last, even the fiddler packed up his
instrument and the remaining dancers shifted off in pairs under the watchful moon.
Jessamyn settled by the flames, thinking sometimes of the Rations Storage fire, other times only of the beauty of the glowing
embers. And then Pavel came to sit beside her and she told him of her days upon Mars and her sixty-four and one-half days upon
the Galleon.
She didn’t tell him what she’d written to him or how often she’d thought of him, how often she’d dwelt on her half-memories of the
very real boy beside her. They were gathered here before her now, all the things she recalled about the Terran boy: Pavel’s long
fingers, one just touching hers; his eyes so dark and solemn; his lips.
His lips.
Something inside her sighed. She felt her skin warming in spite of the near-dawn chill. It started at her heart and crept slowly up her
chest, past her neck, along her jaw and up to her cheeks until she was a thing of flame and desire.
“Where will you live?” Pavel asked.
She pulled her gaze from the lips that had spoken those words. What had he asked? Where she planned to live?
“Um,” she said, trying to find her way back to her rational self.
“Because Yucca’s amazing,” he said. “Your brother’s happier here than I’ve ever seen him.”
Jess smiled. “He is.” And then, more quietly, she asked, “Where are you going next?”
“Me?” Pavel’s mouth curved to half a smile and he grabbed a stone from the sand, turning it over and over with his beautiful hands. “
Aw, Jess … I don’t know. I don’t have a home anymore.”
“Me neither,” she said, placing one of her hands upon his.
Their fingers interlaced as naturally as helmet and suit, and latched just as securely.
Jessamyn leaned back upon the desert floor and Pavel followed, sighing.
“We missed seeing Mars set,” he said.
Jess’s eyes scanned the heavens. “Mars is patently missing,” she agreed.
“I’m glad you’re not,” whispered Pavel, turning his head to hers.
Her skin suffused once more with warmth, and she turned as well, smiling. Their foreheads bumped softly.
“Me, too,” said Jess.
She could feel the warmth of his breath, sense its moisture.
She inched her face toward his so that their noses touched. And then Jess murmured softly, “I’m going to kiss you.”
Stars sparked overhead and the sky to the east glowed as Pavel laughed softly. A moment’s hesitation, a rearrangement of noses,
and Jess felt his lips upon hers once more.
Salt, wet, longing, home.
Home.
Pavel’s mouth on hers felt like home.
She felt a single tear sliding across the bridge of her nose.
“What?” asked Pavel.
She closed her eyes. “I’ll never see Mars again.”
“You’ve lost your home,” he said, a sadness in his voice that mirrored hers. “But I promise you won’t be alone. Whatever your plans,
wherever you go, I’ll stand by you, Jessamyn.”
Jessamyn smiled, thinking of the vows people took back home in the Crystal Pavilion. “Where I come from, that’s a big promise,”
she said. And then she kissed him again.