It was midmorning on the ship. Felicia was at her workstation in the biology lab, but she couldn’t focus her thoughts on the analysis of the Gamman microbes on the computer display before her. She turned off the display and headed out of the lab, toward the cafeteria.
The place was open twenty-four/seven, of course, but at this time of the morning only a handful of people were there. Most of the tables were empty and the little serving robots were lined up in a neat row on the far side of the room.
Felicia trudged to the only juice dispenser that appeared to be working. A young man was already there, filling a large mug to the brim. He was slim, wiry, not much taller than Felicia herself. His skin was dark, his hair midnight black and tightly curled, his eyes deep brown.
“Hi,” he said as Felicia approached. “You’re not at work?”
“Neither are you,” she said, reaching for one of the plastic cups.
“Snuck out for a caffeine break,” he said. Then he stuck out his free hand. “I’m Yussif Hamibi, sensor tech.”
“Felicia MacDaniels, biology.”
“You’re Brad MacDaniels’s wife, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “That’s right.”
“How’s he doing down there?”
Felicia wanted to answer, I wish I knew. Instead, she said, “All right, I guess.”
“You guess? Don’t you know?”
With a sorrowful shake of her head, Felicia admitted, “No, I don’t know. What with the time lag and the storms on Gamma, it’s not easy to stay in touch.”
“Oh. I see.” Hamibi gestured to the nearest table, empty and cold-looking in the glareless overhead lighting.
Felicia went with him and they sat side by side.
“I’ve only got a few minutes,” Hamibi said. “Got to get back to the monitoring center.”
Felicia nodded.
With a wide grin, he asked, “So, do you come here often?”
With a mock scowl, Felicia replied, “Is that supposed to be a pick-up line?”
His smile brightened, strong white teeth against his dark skin. “It’s supposed to be a joke. I didn’t know what else to say.”
“I see.” Felicia allowed herself a thin smile.
“So what’s happening on Gamma?”
“Terrible storms. Some sort of tigerlike animals are hunting down the Gammans and killing them.”
His eyes widening, Hamibi said, “Really? Wow. And MacDaniels is in the middle of all that?”
“He certainly is,” Felicia said. Every nerve in her body seemed to be screaming, Brad’s out there alone. He could get killed. But he stayed there instead of coming back to me.
“Is he all right?” Hamibi asked.
“He’s shot several of the big cats. He’s trying to help the Gammans get through this.”
“Inshallah,” Hamibi murmured.
Suddenly Littlejohn’s voice called from across the nearly empty, echoing cafeteria. “There you are!”
Felicia leaped to her feet, knocking over her juice glass.
“Is Brad…?” She couldn’t finish the question.
“He’s in one piece,” Littlejohn said cheerfully as he crossed the cafeteria and came to their table. “He’s helping the Gammans to survive.”
“He’s all right?”
“As good as he can be, considering the conditions on Gamma right now.” Littlejohn stopped at their table and eyed Hamibi. “I’m Dr. Littlejohn, head of the anthropology team.”
Looking suddenly embarrassed, Hamibi said, “I’d better be getting back to the monitoring center.” He picked up his mug and hurried off into the shadows.
Littlejohn turned back to Felicia. “I thought he might be bothering you.”
“No,” she said, surprised. “He was just being friendly.”
Littlejohn nodded. “Don’t you think you should get back to your lab? It’s too early for lunch.”
“I … I suppose so.”
“You’re worried about Brad.”
“Yes.”
“He’s fine … physically.”
Felicia’s innards flared. “What do you mean?”
Littlejohn’s expression turned almost sorrowful. “He’s taken it upon himself to try to save the Gammans from extinction.”
“Extinction?”
“I don’t know if your husband realizes it or not, but he’s taking on the role of a savior for those people. It could lead to all sorts of complications.”
“Oh.”
“Kosoff’s furious with him.”
“But he’s all right. He’s safe.”
“So far.”
Felicia stood there, feeling lost, helpless, unable to help the man she loved. The man who’s left me, she reminded herself.
Littlejohn slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Come on. I’ll walk you back to your lab.”
And Felicia remembered that the anthropologist had deftly shooed away Greg Nyerere just yesterday. He’s been watching me! she realized. Is he trying to protect me for Brad’s sake, or …
She shrugged his arm off her, then said, “Thank you, Dr. Littlejohn. I can get back to my workplace by myself.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course. Quite sure.”
Littlejohn smiled crookedly, then said, “That’s fine. I should get back to Kosoff before he pops a blood vessel.”
They walked together as far as the cafeteria’s door, then Felicia turned toward the moving stairs that led down to the laboratories.