“It’s hard to picture you as an awkward child,” Marlowe says.
I snort lightly. “Is it?”
“Yes. I might think you come across as reticent, but you’re the most capable person I think I’ve ever met. If you ask me, I picture you, instead, as an extremely lethal soldier.”
That pulls me up short. We make eye contact for the first time in over an hour, and the lights of her helmet illuminate her earnest expression. I huff, something that could be considered a laugh if I weren’t so ‘shy’. No one in the Interplanetary Armed Forces would certainly have ever called me that.
“Iwaslethal. Three tours and it only ever seemed to get more exciting and I, more efficient.”
Marlowe tilts her head to the side and squints. “You liked the challenge.”
“I liked the freedom.” I correct her. “In retrospect, it didn’t have to be the IAF; they just paid the most.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Not at all.”
Her eyes narrow. “No?”
“No.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Sometimes.”
“The girls?”
That surprises a laugh out of me and, in turn, a smile out of her. “No, not the girls. Contrary to what you think, I’ve never had issues when it comes to meeting women. In any case, you rarely want to end up dating the kind of woman who goes gaga for soldiers.”
“Gaga for soldiers?” Marlowe giggles. “That might be, single-handedly, the best thing you’ve ever said.”
I don’t know what comes over me; I raise an eyebrow. “To you.”
“To me,” she agrees in a softer tone. A moment passes, and then, “What did you do when you left?”
I tense up, and an ominous cracking sensation resonates up from the handle of the jet spray. I have to loosen my grip before any parts can go floating off, and I cause Marlowe to berate me for messing up the one job I had. But she just watches me, waiting for an answer.
“Nothing interesting,” I mutter and turn away to find the next dent.
“Urm, no. You just don’t want to tell me,” she says, stopping me in my trajectory.
I spin back around in a move borne from years of experience and raise my eyebrows at the challenge in her eyes. I don’t know what makes me say it. I don’t know what makes me say a lot of things when it comes to Marlowe.
“I’ll tell you the real answer if you tell me why you were angry at me earlier.”
“Well, damn.” Marlowe shakes her head, looking unimpressed. She stretches out an arm and gestures for me to continue with my task. “After you, Captain.”
Making it clear that she’s not that interested.
Our task isn’t a quick one, so after we’ve exhausted ourselves, we head back to get lunch and take a break. The second the airlock has repressurised, Marlowe tears her helmet off and inhales deeply.
“I know it’s pointless,” she says defensively. “The air is the same. But I hate being crammed into that thing for such long periods. It makes my head feel like a tomato.”
I’m slower to remove my helmet. “I wasn’t thinking that.”
She harrumphs and turns her back to me, speaking over her shoulder. “Help me out of this, please?”
I thought we had moved past the tension of this morning, but it seems to be back. Her tone is short, almost snappy. I’d think it was because of our impasse, except that Marlowe’s the one who can end it. Still, I help her out of the EVA, and she returns the favour.
