Matriarch by Karen Traviss Page B

memories—the awful ones with the gorilla and the riot shield and the boiling cold vacuum of space—and he knew that if he slept with her, he would eventually absorb others, and maybe even taste what she really thought of him.
    What if she’s just sorry for me? Or that she thinks I’m useless and she’s just being kind?
    He wondered if she had any sense of how extraordinary she was. All he’d picked up from her memory was that she thought she was smarter than everyone else and wished they’d stop pissing her off by being stupid. He wondered if he’d ever fallen into that category. There was no sign of it, but he’d looked.
    â€œSorry, Ade. I ought to be grateful.” Shan sounded genuinely regretful. “If it’s any comfort, I treated Aras like shit too. I’m just not good at receiving affection.”
    â€œWe’re all under a lot of stress, Boss. Even if you won’tadmit it.” He caught her hand and held it, not sure if she actually understood how much he loved her. He couldn’t think of a word for what he felt other than love; but it was one-dimensional, inadequate, a word worn thin on ordinary women. He wanted a word you could present to a goddess. He needed a word that would make her understand that he now couldn’t bear to let her out of his sight and that the intensity of the emotion pressed so heavily on his chest that sometimes he couldn’t even swallow. “This bloody situation is almost too much to think about sometimes. That’s why I just concentrate on what’s in front of me.”
    â€œYeah. Interplanetary war, genocide, immortality and Earth’s next. When you put it like that, the pucker factor is off the scale.” Shan’s gaze was fixed on his hands, clasped around hers. Then she looked up and smiled at him. The world-weary copper had disappeared for a few moments: he was looking into a trusting, open face that had never seen pain or depravity, or looked upon her own acts of almost indescribable violence. “And the food’s bloody awful. That takes my mind off the rest sometimes.”
    â€œYes it’s amazing what you can put up with if the scran’s okay.” Her expression defaulted to her detective mode, that intense unblinking stare. He had to let go of her hand to fumble in his shirt pocket. “Look what I blagged off the supply officer. Fresh garlic.”
    He rattled a little pouch of four heads of pink-skinned corms. Shan looked at it as if it was evidence and held out her hand. He placed it in her palm.
    â€œWe plant them the minute we get back,” she said.
    â€œI thought I’d cook something with them.”
    â€œWhen we can grow our own supply from these? I can’t ask the colonists for any of theirs, not now.”
    â€œOkay. You never were one for instant gratification.” The phrase felt unfamiliar in his mouth and he wondered if he was now absorbing her speech patterns. “But I’ll keep one in reserve for cooking.”
    â€œWhat did you trade for this?”
    â€œMovie files.”
    She put on her copper’s face again, instantly wary and questioning. “I didn’t know you had a stash of porn.”
    â€œI don’t. It’s all comedy.”
    â€œSorry. I should have guessed.”
    â€œI’m a good boy, Boss.”
    Ade teetered on the cliff edge again. She’d said yes ages ago. She said she’d sleep with him. There was nobody else a man with c’naatat could have; the parasite spread like a dose of clap. But that step from the agreement in principle to making the first move seemed as daunting as ever.
    Come on. She’s seen you throw up and crap yourself in a tight spot and she’s even seen you starkers, tattoos and all. You even shot her, for Chrissakes. And now you’re worried she’ll laugh at you?
    â€œIf it’s any comfort, Ade, I’m scared too.”
    I can make my life normal. I can