Page 45 of Trove’s Purpose

Right. That’s all he wanted. That’s all he could want.

The new shooting range that Trove bought on Tsik-Voll was similar to their last one. Unlike the range on the station, it wasn’t real. It still used his pistol, but instead of firing down a long path at a target, it was deactivated with a little button seal so it would shoot artificial bullets into the range that was just a simple box in the corner. It kept track of scores of the individual people and which weapons they used and included games as well so you could do more than just practice on a target. It was fun and lit up brightly and played happy sounds. It was more like a game than target practice.

Once again, Trove produced his pistol, and after attaching the silver disc to the side that at once deactivated it and synced it to the game, he offered it to Chee to let her go first.

And now that she wasn’t trying to outwit him, now that he knew she had skill at handheld weapons, he could appreciate her. The ease with which she handled the pistol, though it must still be foreign to her. The confidence with which she adopted her stance. The control she had as she took aim. It was beautiful.

Trove set up one of the game courses, one of the easier ones, and let the run go. And then just enjoyed watching Chee. He didn’t even pay attention to whatever score she was racking up. What did that matter in comparison to that tight look in her eyes? The concentration etched on her face. The stability with which she held up the gun, gaze and aim darting between one target and the next as the range brought them up and moved them over the screen. All the while, she was wearing a pair of soft, baggy, gray clothes that had no right looking as good on her as they did. It honestly just made him want to pull them off to get to the prize hidden underneath.

And at the end, when she hit the last target, the range dinged and lit up and happily flashed her score, her picture and name right next to it. She was the first one to use it, so naturally she was in first place for the record. Though there was an option to let it connect to the subnet to get the total records across the cosmos as well – he hadn’t enabled that feature, not wanting to have that connection.

Only once she had her score did Chee’s face soften. She smiled, clearly proud, and he finally glanced over. The number was good. She was good.

No, she was great. She really was.

“Your turn,” she said, offering him the weapon.

Trove’s enjoyment, just in watching her, faded, and he hesitated before picking up the pistol. It seemed heavier in his hands than it did before.

But he stepped into the range’s starting position and started up the same course. As he raised his weapon, he had the brief realization that this wasn’t actually a contest. This was a choice. If he wanted to tell her, he could purposefully lose. If he didn’t want to, he could win…

He took the first shot. Then the next. Then the next.

Behind him, Chee made a soft sound of surprise as he ran the same course she did. And it wasn’t so much a choice as cowardice.

Trove absolutely dominated her score. He was faster, he hit the targets better, and on many of them, he actually hit them twice.

The range lit up, exactly as it had for her, and this time, it was his face, his name, and his higher score that set him above her. He looked at it and felt disappointed in himself. He had the chance to talk, and he hadn’t taken it. Even after all this time, he still couldn’t…

“You hustled me,” Chee breathed and he turned, looking at her with a hint of a smile. She actually looked surprised. “You weren’t giving it your best at the other range. You could have beaten me easily.”

“Where would the fun be in that?” He asked. “And you seemed happier having beaten me.”

Chee opened her mouth, but no words came out. She closed her lips, bit them briefly, then shook her head and tried again.

“You win, then. So, what did you want to do?”

Trove thought about it for a moment before answering. “You would have had me answer your question if you won. So, answer mine.”

“Okay. What’s your question?”

“Why were you angry at me?”

“Huh?”

“Before. Back on the station. You were angry at me. Will you tell me why?”

Her whole face pinched, brows drawing together, jaw clenching tight. Her body stiffened and she looked away from him.

“You really have to ask?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to understand.”

“I feel like there’s nothing to understand.”