Ascending - James Alan Gardner [93]
My only warning was a wash of dizziness, strong enough to cut straight through my frenzy. I attempted to say, “I am sorry, Lajoolie,” but I do not think the words came out. Then my muscles went limp, and so did my mind.
Awakening
When I regained consciousness, the room was much brighter. The brightness came from dozens of glow-wands laid upon my body; someone had opened my jacket and stacked the wands on my chest, with more wands stuffed down my sleeves and others arranged along both sides of my legs. It was warm where they touched me—the pleasant heat of stones that have been baking under a summer sun.
I closed my eyes and basked. This light was not nearly so filling as the illumination in an Ancestral Tower—the towers were filled with many healthful energies far beyond the visible spectrum—but the glow-wands provided sufficient sustenance that I felt alive again…and I would get up very soon, after I had soaked in a bit more nutrition.
Someone said, “Did she move?”
The voice belonged to Sergeant Aarhus. When Festina and Captain Kapoor had headed in opposite directions, I could not remember whom Aarhus had followed. It dawned on me perhaps he had not gone with either party; perhaps he had remained unseen in the blackness, listening to Lajoolie and me speak. Was that not the behavior one expected of a zealous Security mook? Hiding in the dark. Keeping us under Covert Surveillance.
And what did he think we might do if left to our own devices? I asked myself. Did he fear we would damage a ship that was already broken? But perhaps Aarhus did not care so much about Lajoolie and me as he wished to guard baby Starbiter. The Zarett might provide our only way to call for help; therefore, the sergeant had posted himself to protect the child.
When I passed out, it must have been Aarhus who obtained these glow-wands. The sergeant would know where such items were stored; he would also be familiar enough with Royal Hemlock to find his way in the dark. I could imagine him staggering desperately through the blackness, mumbling to himself, “I must save Oar. I must save Oar. She is too beautiful to die.”
I found myself wondering dreamily if Aarhus had fallen in love with me. After all, I was far more attractive than opaque human women…and far more charming as well, for I was not a mousy little thing eternally fretting about conformance with the dictates of society. Perhaps the sergeant sensed in me a Tempestuous Beauty who could never be Tamed.
Which is quite enough to make some men fall in love.
For a while.
Until something in the male head goes click and suddenly you are Just Too Much Trouble.
A shudder passed through me and I clenched my face in chagrin. All my life I had been most adept at devising delightful fantasies, pleasant reveries of Love and Romance. Why could I not do that now? As soon as I began inventing a tale of Aarhus in love with me, why did something in my brain bring the fantasy to a crashing halt: Foolish Oar, real love is not so carefree or so sweet?
Was this what it meant to have a Tired Brain? To find oneself unable to spin rosy dreams? To be constantly burdened by It is not so easy and You must not ignore certain facts?
Most frightened, appalled, and desperate, I opened my eyes.
Quite Well Again
“Behold!” I said. I sat up and threw my arms wide, attempting to seem like a person not at all tormented by doubts. “Rejoice, for I have recovered! I am quite well again.”
My motion sent several glow-wands tumbling off my body. Sergeant Aarhus rushed over to put them in place again. Sometime since I had fallen unconscious, he had removed his ostentatious mook-armor. Now he was wearing an olive-colored coverall, emblazoned with insignia patches I did