Up Against It - M. J. Locke [110]
Leaden dismay settled in Xuan’s chest. Charles and Rowan shot him sympathetic glances, but the general mood in the meeting was cheerful. Someone broke out a bottle of Downsider whiskey, and they passed around disposable drink bulbs with a splash of the pungent, expensive liquor. Someone proposed a toast to the PM.
He forwent the toast, but swirled the liquid in the cup, and tossed the amber drink down. It stung his nostrils and warmed his throat and stomach.
“I suppose we can junk these,” Charles said, gesturing at the set of plans floating before them in wavespace. It described how they would rescue and store Kukuyoshi’s denizens until the arboretum could be brought back.
“I’m afraid not.” Xuan hunched his shoulders. His colleagues turned to look at him. “Benavidez puts a happy face on our situation, but air and fuel supplies are still very low. We have barely enough to last until the new ice comes. This doesn’t mean a reprieve for Kukuyoshi.”
Rowan squeezed his arm. He gave her a smile he didn’t feel.
“I’ll be fine.” He released his grip on the table and rose, sick at heart—for Jane, because she had had no choice but to do what she had done; and for his colleagues, most of whom stood to lose their lives’ work over all this—and in regret over the discomfort his very presence must cause them. “Excuse me.”
He should head over to the arboretum and help with species rescue, but Xuan did not have the stomach to face his colleagues and students just now, when so many would be rejoicing at the very event that had led to his wife’s misfortune. Instead he returned to his office.
Jane had left him a message. He returned the call. She appeared before him. He’d never seen her look so lost.
“I heard the news,” he told her. She said nothing, only looked at him without expression. He sensed how thin the skin of her armor was. He wanted desperately to take her into his arms, to hold her, let her scream her way free of her outrage and sense of loss.
“They’ve offered me two berths on the Sisyphus,” she said. “It departs Wednesday. I have to leave then or testify before Parliament and face prosecution for gross negligence.” He opened his mouth, but she said, “I know you have deep ties with the university. I’m not telling you this right now to get a commitment from you. I just wanted you to know.” She paused. Her stiff composure was painful to watch. “They’ve offered us a lot of money, too,” she went on. “It should show up in the account on Wednesday, once I’m safely off 25 Phocaea. We can use it to help Dominica locate Huu-Thanh and her kids.”
“Let’s not worry about all that right now,” Xuan said. “There’s time to discuss that sort of thing later. Are you free for lunch?”
She shook her head: a tiny, terse movement. “I need time alone. I’ll see you tonight. All right?”
Her gaze met his, and there was an unspoken plea in it. Please understand, it said. Please give me time alone. He found it difficult not to come to her when he knew she was in pain. But it was what she needed; so be it. He nodded. “All right. I love you.”
She swallowed, mouthed, I love you, too, and cut the connection.
* * *
He busied himself with organizing his research notes, and working on his latest publication, but could not concentrate, and made little progress. There was a brief disruption while the spin generators were geared back up and gravity was restored. Once acceleration was back to its steady three-quarters gee, Xuan picked up the items that had fallen to the floor, and then sank heavily into his desk chair.
At least we will have the ice, he thought. Perhaps the damage to Kukuyoshi won’t be irreparable. Cold comfort.
Okuyama contacted him. “We have been asked to provide assistance in helping substantiate some sugar-rock claims, again. Do you have any more graduate students we can loan out?”
“I’m afraid not. Everyone we could spare is currently assigned to