“My legs don’t get as much sun. My face and arms are tanned.”
“I like the way you look. You are”—special—“interesting to me.”
“You’re interesting to me, too.”
“Good-interesting…or bad-interesting?”
She hesitated. “Mostly…good.”
He could guess the bad. He was a Progg. He tried to take solace in that she found him mostly good—it was more than he had a right to hope for—but he yearned for her to like him as much as he liked her. A futile wish. He could never be forgiven. He could change what hedid, but he couldn’t change what hewasor undo what his people had done. The invasion would always come between them.
She pointed to a bridge over the roadway in the distance. “There’s the highway to Springfield. We won’t be able to ride down the middle, but the shoulder will probably be clear.” She sped up, leading the way to the on-ramp. Smashed cars were scattered across the ramp on and off the shoulder, forcing them to walk their bikes around the obstructions.
Her mouth tightened into a grim line, and he guessed the totaled vehicles reminded her of the massacre. There’d once been people piloting those vehicles.
Now, the hunks of metal marked the spot where the people had died. A blanket of guilt and hopelessness dropped over him. She might forget for a little while when they were alone, but the past would always be with them. The past defined the future. She would never forgive him. Never fully accept him.
Could he blame her?
Upon reaching the main highway, they remounted the bikes. Roadway congestion was worse, but the shoulder was mostly clear, as she’d predicted. Once again, they rode single file as the shoulder couldn’t accommodate two side-by-side bikes with trailers, and there were occasional obstructions.
Although he would have preferred to talk, he did enjoy the view of her buttocks.
The dog was fun to watch, too. Kevin’s head poked out of the open top, sniffing the air and observing the world rolling by.He’s happy.
Duty defined a Progg’s existence and purpose. Feelings such as happiness were irrelevant to the goals of the empire. The only reason the concept and wordexisted in the language was because happiness mattered to some of the species they interacted with. Most of the aliens they encountered were vaporized, so their happiness was really a moot point.
Hence, Rok couldn’t define joy, although, curiously, he recognized it when he saw it. The dog’s happiness showed in his furry face.
I want Chloe to be as happy as Kevin is.
I only wish I made her happy.
At least she was willing to accompany him to search for Grav. Without her, he never would have learned Grav had gone toSpringfield—nor would he have known how to get there. Like Chloe, he, too, wondered who the “we” was Grav had referred to. Another Progg? Or a human?
The announcement of the incomprehensible retreat from Earth had stunned him. According to military history, Progg-Res had never lost a battle, never retreated, never conceded. Do it once. Do it right. Now, he realized the deaths and total absence of communication had been signs of defeat, which caused him to question the accuracy of what he’d been taught. Had other losses been expunged from the record?
It mattered more than ever to find Grav, not just for the information he might provide but because hewas kin. But would Grav care to connect with him? He wondered what his brother was like now. Their parents had dismissed him as “soft” and “weak,” a damning assessment. Grav had been twelve at the time. Had he toughened?
He and his brother were practically strangers. He knew Chloe better than he knew him.I know the dog better.
* * * *
Chloe pointed to a pond surrounded by grass. “I’m getting hungry. How about you? You want to stop for dinner?”
At the mention of food, his stomach growled.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She laughed.
He’d amused her! A heat that was almost sexual shot through him. He’d do almost anything to hear her laugh.
* * * *
Taking the dog and some food, they climbed over the highway divider. Muscles in his buttocks and thighs protested after the long ride. He limped toward the grassy area.
“Little stiff?” Her laughter got him stiff in a different way.
“More than you know,” he replied.
