Doctor Who_ Beyond the Sun - Matthew Jones [113]
There was a long pause. Her jaw was really beginning to throb now.
‘Why do you like me?’ Emile said out of the blue.
She leant forward again and poked him in the ribs. ‘Who says I do?’
He pushed her hand away. ‘Hey, I’m serious!’
‘You really want to know?’ She wasn’t really sure what to say. It was such an insecure thing to ask. Such a kid thing. She thought back to the time they had first met, on the passenger ship heading to Apollox 4. He had been curled up on the floor, wailing like a baby. ‘You want the truth, Emile?’
‘Yeah,’ he said, uncertainly.
‘I like you, ’Meel, because you’re such a child, and because you believe all the bullshit everybody tells you. And because you’d follow the Grel into Psychos “Я” Us if they promised you ten per cent discount and free bumper stickers. You’re like a brand-new toy – batteries fully charged –
setting off on your new adventures. And sometimes, sometimes, I wish I was like you.’
‘You do?’
‘Yeah, I do.’ But she could tell he didn’t really understand what she meant. Not fully. How could he? ‘I do and I don’t. I mean, you’re wide open. Everybody can see it coming. Like they’ve got a window right into your brain. I mean you’re gay and people know it. You’re a kid and people know it. Everything about you is just written all over your face.’
She felt Emile sit bolt upright, his legs pushing against hers. ‘Who knows I’m gay?’
She laughed. ‘You didn’t think you were keeping it a secret, did you?’
‘Tameka! Oh my God! Does Bernice know?’
‘Emile, strangers pass you in the street and know.’
‘Oh my God!’
‘Damn it ’Meel, you sound like you didn’t know yourself.’
‘Well . . . I did. I mean, I do . . . know that is. I just, well . . .’
‘Well what?’
‘I just don’t usually say it like that.’
‘Oh? So how do you usually say it?’
‘I . . . well, I don’t . . . I mean, I haven’t . . . said it. Ever. Not out loud. Not actually to anyone else.’
‘No kidding?’ Suddenly she was so full of affection for him she could have burst. ‘You are such an asshole, ’Meel.’
There was a pause.
‘So why do you like me?’ she asked, half seriously. Well, maybe a little bit more than half.
Emile made a show of sounding nonchalant. ‘Who says I do?’
Tameka laughed, throwing him off guard. And then she leant over quickly and tweaked his nipple through his uniform.
Hard.
He yelped.
‘Like I said, wide open.’
23
IN THE COLD LIGHT OF DAY
Emile woke as a huge clanking sound echoed around the hold. The floor shuddered once beneath him. For a moment there was silence, and he blinked himself properly awake, wondering if the sounds and sensations had been part of his dreams. And then there was the sound of a motor whining and a vertical line of scarlet light appeared in the far wall of the hold. A spray of hard snow chased the light into the room, scattering hailstones the size of marbles across the metal floor. Slowly the main cargo doors opened revealing the now familiar bleak winter landscape. A short distance away, Emile could see part of a huge block of ruby-coloured glass rising out of the ground at a sharp angle. He could see another just beyond it, pushing its way out of the ground.
They crossed each other like swords, rising up out of sight.
Tameka had seen them too. They exchanged glances and she shrugged. Clearly she didn’t know what they were either. She smiled at him and squeezed his arm.
‘You OK?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, course.’ Then he remembered the conversation they’d had before he had slept.
Oh . . . my . . . God . . .
She knew! She had bloody well always known. He felt himself blush and his face was so hot that he was sure it must have shown through the pale foundation.
They all knew! He began to feel light-headed and then he realized that it was because the wind had swept the oxygen in the room out into the stormy landscape. Fumbling, he reached for his respirator mask and was relieved to hide his face behind it.
He watched through the two round glass eye holes as the interior door to the