Pandora: Liminal Space Book 2

Chapter Six

Garrett Caractacus didn't believe in making decisions in a vacuum. He might habitually radiate inconstancy and caprice, but when it came to the important things he was entirely a scientist, putting far more stock in rationality and research than he did in gut impulses. Garrett weighed facts, tested hypotheses, and explored all the available avenues before deciding on one. It was a method that had only failed him once in the past, and that had been less of an abject failure and more of a lose/lose situation.

One the one hand, there was the prospect of going to Pandora. Garrett had prevaricated with his father out loud, but internally he agreed with Miles. Odds were good that he'd be offered the position as the expedition's climatologist again.

Pandora meant a lot of new challenges, which would keep his brain from careening into self-indulgent atrophy. It meant travel, probably not in style but you couldn't have everything. It meant another nice tag for his résumé, and another chance for him to demonstrate that he was more than a parasite clinging to his father's career. It meant a good, objective opportunity to assess his life and figure out what had propelled him into his interminable brown study.

On the other hand, he could decline the offer. That opened up a lot of different options, from staying here on Paradise doing nothing, to heading back to the Central System worlds, to finding an exciting lover and cruising for a while, to...

Garrett ran out of things. Those things he'd listed were big things, but they didn't seem very enticing at the moment. After all, he'd had the opportunity to pursue those options for months, and he'd fallen into the first one by dint of sheer ennui. The others just weren't motivational enough, not even the prospect of new and interesting sex.

Experimentations followed, subtle and overt tests of the malaise that had settled over his life. Garrett spent a lot of time with Wyl, working on his ship. The designs Wyl was engraving into the engine casing, surprisingly fanciful ones for a man who made his living as a mechanic, were beautiful. They were of strange, elegant spires and masques and faces hiding in the patterns. Wyl talked a lot, often about nothing and more often about Robbie, and Garrett listened and responded appropriately and enjoyed the cheerful, often lewd flow of words as the friendly distraction it was. He spent time with Robbie and Wyl together, cooking dinner for the couple and listening to them bicker and play. He occasionally spent time with Robbie alone, not often because the man had almost as much to do as Garrett's father, but it was always good.

Robbie, who was always honest about what he saw, was nevertheless a little hesitant to bring it up with Garrett, who had politely stonewalled Wyl with general reassurances multiple times. Garrett saw his ex's hesitation and gave in over a shared slice of cheesecake one night as they watched Wyl work, so deep into his creative space that he wouldn't stop to sleep if someone wasn't there to make him.

"I'm figuring some things out," Garrett offered abruptly, licking the creamy cake off his fork.

"And how's that going for you?"

Garrett started to shrug, then sat back and sighed. "I'm afraid I'm growing up. Or growing old. Something like that."

"The fallback pleasures are really starting to pall, huh."

"Yeah. Which is quite sad, because if you can't take refuge in hedonism and live a happy life, what hope is there for the universe?"

"Happy and fulfilled aren't necessarily the same," Robbie pointed out, stealing the strawberry off the top of the cake slice.

"Well, they've always been synonymous before."

"Then are you going to take the job on Pandora, and see if you can find a new way to be happy?"

"Maybe," Garrett replied. "Probably. But first I need to get laid."

Robbie rolled his eyes. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Seriously. Maybe my angst is part of a vicious, celibate circle. Maybe finding some pretty young thing to fuck is just what I need." Garrett grinned at Robbie. "I don't suppose you and Wyl..."

"No."

"Of course not. Stick, meet mud. Square peg, here's your square hole."

"At least we fit together." Robbie's voice was mildly reproving.

"I know you do," Garrett agreed. "I know you're good for each other. You're so disgustingly good for each other that you give Miles and Claudia a run for their money. Do you think you guys will settle here eventually, once the military doesn't own you body and soul?"

"We'll see," Robbie said. "I've dragged Wyl around for the past three years; I figure when this tour is over we'll go wherever he wants."

"Ah."

The moment stretched with a strange discomfort, until Robbie reached over and laid his hand across Garrett's. "You're going to be all right," he said seriously. "You're gifted, Garrett, and you've got a lot to give. You're going to find a place that deserves everything you've got and everything you are. I know it."

Garrett turned his hand over and held on to his former lover's for a moment, unable to find words but unpressured to come up with any. Robbie, like Miles, was good with silences. After a moment they let each other go and finished the cake. Wyl joined them a few minutes later, having finally hit an acceptable stopping point.

"You ate it all?" he exclaimed. "I'm slaving over your damn ship and you can't even save me a bite of cheesecake? That stuff came all the way from T's restaurant!"

"There's more in the apartment," Robbie reminded him.

"Will you feed it to me?" Wyl asked with a suggestive grin.

"I might be persuaded," Robbie agreed.

"God damn you both to hell," Garrett moaned, visions of cheesecake and naked men swimming in front of his eyes. It was a welcome kick to his libido. "Go have your two-man cheesecake orgy, and then please never tell me any of the details, ever. Not even if I beg." He stood up. "I'm going out."

"Happy hunting," Wyl said, grabbing Robbie by the hand and pulling him away from the table. Garrett walked back into his ship alone, but determined not to stay that way. Not tonight.