Paths of Absolution: Part Four
26 Aug 2022Dixon-Phyre
After a week, Ramona had progressed to walking with crutches and the medics said if she wanted to leave the hospital, she could do so…The elevator doors opened abruptly and she propelled herself out into the hanger lobby. Mikael followed, carrying the bag which held her meagre possessions. Down the steps and she stopped and stared at the brooding giant of the Type-10. Looked back over her shoulder.
“Not quite…what I was expecting…” she said awkwardly. He looked at her and raised his eyebrows. “Forgive me, milady; I shall go and trade it in for a Cutter immediately!”
Ramona flushed. “That’s not what I meant!” she blurted, “I just thought….you know…a Python or something…”
He let out a short laugh, saw her expression. “Sorry. Just recalling a discussion an old friend and I had about Pythons. She owned two!”
Ramona shot a quizzical look at him as they made their way to the boarding ramp. The inclined elevator carried them up into the body of the ship, and they made their way along the non-slip floorplates to the crew cabins. Mikael stopped at the entrance to her quarters - turned to see her running a hand over the welded-up edges of the door on the other side. “What…what’s in here that it needed sealed up?” she asked curiously. She saw his jaw tighten, wondered if she had said the wrong thing.
“Bad memories,” he answered shortly, and stepped quickly away.
He showed her round her cabin, speaking as if the odd moment had never occurred.
Toured the rest of the ship; gazing around as they entered the spacious cockpit. “In Nomine Mortis,” she said, “‘In Death’s Name.’ Not a very nice name…”
“I’m a bounty hunter. It’s not meant to be a nice ship.”
She let out a mock gasp and patted the nearest wall.
“Awww…what does he say about you? Don’t worry, Nommy, I think you’re a lovely ship.”
Mikael stopped and gave her a long look.
“Did you just give my ship a girly nickname?”
“Yes,” she said defiantly, tossing her hair back, “and you’ll never get it out of your head.” She stuck her tongue out at him briefly and grinned. He burst out laughing.
“You’re welcome to bed down in the cargo bay, missy!”
“You wouldn’t!” she gasped, dramatically throwing an arm back.
“Just kidding,” he said with a wink.
She glared at him.
“Or am I…?”
Life slowly settled into a routine. Ramona propelled herself around the interior of the ship and the landing pad, getting used to her prosthetic and building up strength in her real leg. Mikael pottered around the T-10, tidying and doing small maintenance jobs. He watched her progress and wondered when she would forego the crutches; she seemed reluctant to try walking without them.
It was just after lunch one day when he forced the issue. She was sipping from a mug of tea in the galley, eyes flicking across the screen of a datapad.
Mikael turned from loading the dishwasher.
“What are you reading?” he asked.
She looked up, blinked. “Huh? Oh. Natural history of language.”
“Interesting. You are a bit of a linguist, I’ve noticed. Origins of my name, translating the ship’s name…”
“Just because I’m blonde doesn’t mean I’m thick!”
“Never said you were.” She looked away.
“Sorry,” she said, “just become used to people thinking I’m a low-watt bulb.”
Sighed and put the pad down. “I need a pee.” Began to push her chair back; he walked round and helped her. As he moved away, picked up the crutches and disappeared out of the door with them.
“Mikael!” she shouted, “bring those crutches back right now!”
“I don’t think you need them, Ramona!” came his reply.
She grimaced as messages from her bladder became just a little bit more urgent.
“Mikael! Please!”
“I’m not the one who’s going to wet themselves if they don’t get up off their arse!”
“Mikael Dixon, when I get my hands on you , I am so going to take this prosthetic off and fucking well beat you with it!”
“Oh, I don’t think you’d want to do that,” came his voice from somewhere in the ship, “because then we might end up in court…and you wouldn’t have a leg to stand on!”
She let out a noise that was half-laugh and half outraged snort. With a curse, she was up and halfway down the corridor to her room…when she became aware she was walking unaided, albeit with a limp. Stopped and steadied herself against the wall, as she realised what Mikael had been up to.
Got to her cabin, relieved herself. When she emerged from the washroom, the crutches were leaning against her bed.
Found him in his cabin, feet up, reading a book.
“I suppose you want me to sling them out now,” she muttered. He looked at her calmly.
“You’ll still need them occasionally,” he replied, “when the leg is off for whatever reason. But if you were going to stay dependent on them, you might as well not have the prosthesis at all.”
She flumped onto the edge of his bed.
“What is that book?” she asked, “you’re always looking at it! Are you a slow reader or something?”
“My, aren’t we grouchy today?”
Then the defiance went out of her and she slumped.
“I’m…sorry. I just don’t like being made a fool of.”
“No-one made a fool of anyone, Ramona. You’re a strong-willed lass, and if I’d merely suggested that you needed to stop using the crutches so much, well, I suspect you’d have told me where to get off.”
She laughed. “Ha! Yeah, I probably would have, at that.” Tilted her head on one side.
“But, really, what is that book?”
Mikael carefully put his bookmark in, closed it and passed it to her. It was an actual paperback - and a very old one. White fold lines down the spine, paper gone yellow-brown with age. The whole thing had been preserved by a super-fine laminate over the cover and pages.
The front depicted a primitive rocket vessel, on its launch pad, painting up towards a crater-covered world. White letters spelt out the title and author: The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Robert Heinlein.
“And the reason I’m always reading it, is because every time I sit down and open it, I get interrupted!”
She looked at him and grinned. “Oh. My bad. It looks ancient. Where did you get it? Family heirloom?”
“I was allowed to keep it when I was let out of prison…” he began, saw the startled look on her face, “…which is ironic, as it’s about a prison colony.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Sounds like this is another one of those things you need to explain to me.”
“In the same way you’ve got a lot to explain to me, chica.”
There was a long pause. She drummed her fingers on the frame of the bed.
“I would say ‘no time like the present’ but I’ve got a better idea.”
“I’m all ears.”
She let out a sigh. “How long is it since you walked outside? Under a blue sky with fluffy clouds, and the grass under your feet? I don’t think I’ve done so since I was a kid…”
Pursed his lips and looked at her thoughtfully. “That’s a really good idea, Ramona.” He rose from his chair, rubbed his hands together. “There’s a RemLok in your cabin. Suit up then we can pick a nice Earth-like world to visit.”