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Halmiko looked him over. Doljen had always been in excellent shape, but he’d shorn off any softness since they’d last seen each other. He was carved granite, without an ounce of fat on him. Imdiko or not, he looked ready to take on a kurble team’s offensive line singlehandedly.
“Drink?” Doljen led him into the main area, as rustic and plain as the outside.
“Just water, thanks.”
“You quit alcohol?”
“I’m trying.” Tumsa’s presence as of late had been Halmiko’s inspiration to completely swear off liquor.
Doljen fetched him a glass of water. “I’m tapped directly into an underground spring. Heavy on the minerals, so don’t mind the taste.”
“Thanks.” Halmiko gulped it, ignoring the iron tang of it. The day was hot, and even with the door open, the cabin was sweltering. As soon as he drained the glass, Doljen refilled it.
Halmiko took it. He stared at Doljen. Doljen stared back.
“I fucked up with you,” the Nobek began. “Majorly. I don’t blame you for avoiding me. Hell, I don’t blame you for any of it. I was wrong for what I did and said. It was me. Never you.”
“I cleared him to play. I suspected he’d been out the night before. I knew it was possible he’d done something to appear clean.”
“This isn’t about Zakla, okay? He did what he did, and he paid the price. It was all on him. None of us could have stopped him from fucking up since that’s what he was determined to do.”
Doljen stared at him with confusion. “If it isn’t about what happened to him, then what?”
“It’s what I did to you. I insisted you shoulder the responsibility instead of owning up to my part in it.”
“It wasn’t up to you to make the call on whether he could play. That was me.”
Halmiko wanted to scream at him to wipe off the compassionate, caring expression he wore. “You did what the tests told you to. You did what Coach pushed for. There was no reason for you not to clear Zakla.”
“Except I understood what he was capable of.”
“So did I! But I didn’t say a word, did I? Despite knowing him better than anyone except maybe Tumsa, I let it slide.” Halmiko groaned in agony. “Doljen, you weren’t at fault. What do I have to do to make you see it? Tell me! Then tell me what to do so you’ll forgive me. Anything. Punch me unconscious. Beat me with one of those.” He pointed to the pile of logs by the fireplace. “Curse me. Scream at me. Condemn the person who’s earned it.”
The grim lines seemingly etched in Doljen’s face smoothed. “I don’t wish to hurt you, Halmiko. We’ve all had enough of that.”
“But you’re suffering. What can I do? What will fix this?” He was begging, but he no longer cared.
“Nothing. I appreciate you laying it on the line. I truly do.” The brutal kindness and care shining in his gaze wouldn’t relent. “It’s just…it’s too late, don’t you think? Why bring it all up when we can’t fix it?”
“I’d like to try.” Halmiko’s voice was humiliatingly weak.
“I wish we could. But we’re better off leaving the past where it belongs.”
* * * *
Halmiko trudged into the spaceport feeling drained of all care, hope, and life.
He’d been dispirited before. He’d thought he’d descended into hopelessness for the last seven years. He didn’t realize until Doljen had shut out any chance of a reconciliation that he’d held onto hope after all; that somehow, someday, their clan would find a path to a reunion.
He’d never been so empty.
As he approached theRogue, he saw Tumsa wandering in his direction. The Dramok appeared as bereft as Halmiko felt. Why not? Life was shit.
“This place has cleared out,” Tumsa observed as they drew closer.
The port was quiet, with only a few security types to be seen. They appeared bored. A couple of fleet personnel strode past him, on their way toward a nearby exit. “It’s dinner time. After that, everybody’s off for a night on the town. The docks of smaller places such as Lobam and Haven usually get quiet around this time when the loading and offloading crews leave.”
“It’s different elsewhere?”
