In the time before his airtranspo returned, Ewan closed up the island house. He spent a few hours making sure Aggie and Jerome knew they didn’t need to come back and arranging for a final bonus payment to their accounts. Spent a few more hours checking in with his team and following up on their progress.
Then there was nothing left to do but head back . . . “home” didn’t feel like the right word for it. Home had become the island, but without Nina, the island was nothing but a barren slab of rock. Home was not a place for Ewan anymore. Home would always be Nina.
Still, he had more than one house to choose from, and it seemed like a natural choice to go back to Woodhaven, where he’d first met her. The house that had once seemed perfect for him now loomed large and too empty, but the grounds surrounding it gave him enough room to run and run and run. Every place he ran reminded him of Nina, but Ewan had already realized that everything would for the rest of his life.
He’d come in from one of those runs to find a series of missed pings on his personal comm. He didn’t recognize the number, but the caller had readily identified herself. Katrinka Dev had tried to get in touch with him eight times in the span of a couple hours. The comm was pinging again when he picked it up.
“Katrinka,” Ewan said without additional greeting as soon as the screen focused into view. “What do you want?”
She looked excremental. Haggard, hollowed cheeks, bags beneath her eyes. Her hair had been let to go almost entirely gray. Her expensive synthsilk tunic hung off her bony shoulders.
Katrina gave him a brittle smile. “It’s done.”
“What, exactly, is done?” Ewan asked warily, reminded of their last conversation and the threats she’d made. He was expecting her to tell him Jordie had finally died.
“He’s cured,” she said instead. Her lips skinned back over bright white teeth that seemed too large in her gaunt face. “Although, you’ve probably already heard.”
Ewan switched the call from his personal to the wall comm and went to the bar to pour himself a drink. Water, first, since he was still sweating from the run. A couple fingers of bourbon after that, which he held but didn’t sip as he waited for Katrinka to continue.
“Did you hear me, Donahue?”
“I heard you,” he said calmly. The bourbon spread warmth through his chest. He took another long drink of cool water to counter it.
Katrinka paced in front of the screen. At a distance, her skeletal frame was painfully obvious. “He’s cured, I said.”
“I already said I heard you,” Ewan repeated. “But I don’t understand.”
She faced the screen. “My team found the solution. I had it implanted in Jordie. He’s fine, now.”
Ewan doubted Jordie would ever be anything close to “fine” again, considering the kid had clearly not been fine to begin with. He frowned. “You can’t know that for sure. Not so soon. Not without lots of tests.”
“My son is sane, now. The docs said so.”
That seemed even less likely than him being “fine.” Anyway, sanity wasn’t something Ewan was sure could even be determined, not in the way Katrinka wanted it to be. Ewan tossed back the rest of the bourbon with a grimace and weighed his words before speaking. Katrinka stopped her pacing and waited for him to speak, her expression a twisted mask he couldn’t read.
“He’s been examined,” she said when Ewan remained silent. “The docs have checked him out. He doesn’t have to be kept in restraints any longer. He’s not trying to hurt himself or anyone else. The new programming worked. He’s going to get out of prison.”
“That should never happen. He doesn’t deserve it,” Ewan said.
Katrinka’s smile was more like a rictus. “That’s not for you to decide. I gave you your chance to help him. You didn’t. Now you have no choice in anything.”
“I realize you love your son, Katrinka—”
“When he was a little boy, I thought that if only I gave him whatever he wanted, he would . . .” She coughed into her fist before glaring back at the camera. “He would sit down. Shut up. Behave. I thought that if I gave him the best of everything, he would appreciate it. I thought that if I provided every. Physical. Comfort. That he would grow up to be a son any mother could be proud of. He did not. Did he?”
She sounded almost desperate for Ewan’s approval, but quickly changed her tone when she looked through the screen at his expression.
“Nevertheless, he is my son, and what happened to him was abominable. Abhorrent. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.”
Ewan would never agree with her. Beds that had been made would have to be slept in, as far as he was concerned.
“I made his release a condition of releasing the new set of upgrades. Thank you for working so hard to make sure public opinion is in favor of the enhanced. Imagine what it would be like if it came out in a wide release that they did have a cure, something to help them, but it was being kept from them because of something so simple,” Katrinka continued when Ewan said nothing.
“You want to make your son a victim, and he’s not. He’s not a martyr, either.”
“He is!” Katrinka shouted. “As much as any of those others, if not more. He was used for the gain of someone else, and look what it did to him!”
Ewan shook his head. “He got himself into that situation, Katrinka, and you know it.”
“You’re so willing to forgive your pretty little Nina, but not my son. Well, Donahue, it doesn’t matter, because my team came up with the fix, and yours has not. My son proves it works. He’s going to be released and there’s nothing you can do about it. If I were you, I’d be more worried about making sure your girlfriend is eligible to get her messed-up head taken care of, before she ends up jumping in front of a train or something.”
“The only reason she wouldn’t be eligible is if you made it so that she couldn’t get the updated programming. So,” Ewan said bluntly, “what is it you want from me?”
“I want you to issue a formal public and international apology absolving Jordie of anything to do with what happened to Nina. I want you to make sure that the entire world understands my son was a victim and deserves sympathy, not punishment. I want you to also personally apologize to him . . . and I want her to do it, too.”
Ewan hung his head for a moment, hands on his hips. He thought about pouring another drink, but the first had already loosened his tongue. “For the love of the Onegod, Katrinka.”
“It’s only words.” Her reply became a hiss. “But I should have known you’d refuse.”
“An apology from me is useless, and I guarantee you there’s no way for me to force Nina to give him one, either. Jordie committed the crimes all on his own. If he’s truly sane, he’s going to have to answer to them, now. That’s on him. Not me. And even if he does get released, what difference will anything I say make? It’s not like he needs to go out into the world and get a job,” Ewan added derisively. “It seems to me that you’re perfectly able to take care of him for as long as he needs it.”
Katrinka visibly flinched and turned from the camera. “You know how people are. They talk. They talk and talk and talk. They don’t invite you to the parties. They stop pinging. They whisper right in front of your face.”
“This is about being invited to parties?” Ewan asked, incredulous.
She didn’t look back at him. “You don’t get to judge me.”
Ewan poured another inch or so of bourbon and sipped it, watching the screen. “So I make a formal apology to the world about Jordie and what happened, saying I don’t blame him.”
“And one to him, personally,” she said, and lowering her voice, added, “He’s insisting.”
That made more sense. “Like you said, it’s only words.”
“You’d better make them good words.” Katrinka turned, her teeth bared in something trying to be a smile. “Trust me, Donahue. You’ll want to make sure they’re very, very good words.”
A ripple of unease tickled up and down his spine. “Or what?”
“Or he won’t agree.”
Ewan scowled. “Why in all the hells is it up to him at all?”
“It just is.” This time, her smile had a tinge of sadness. “You’ll do it, though. Because you love her.”
“Yes.”
“Like I love my son.”
Ewan shook his head. “No. Not like that. The way I feel for Nina is nothing like that.”
“You,” she said again, “don’t get to judge me.”
Ewan finished his drink and set the glass on the bar with a thud. “Fine. I’ll have a statement drafted and sent to you for approval. I’ll work on the personal apology. Does it have to be given in person?”
“No.”
“Consider it done,” Ewan told her.
* * *
“My dear, it’s so good to see you!” Aggie beamed and embraced Nina.
Nina took the comfort, closing her eyes and allowing the older woman to hold onto her longer than was probably necessary. With a self-conscious laugh Nina stepped back and sat at the table where she’d been waiting for Aggie to arrive. The older woman had reached out to Nina shortly after she’d arrived back on the mainland. Her son had survived the buzzbike crash and although he’d need a lot of care to recover, he was going to be fine.
Aggie took the opposite seat, shrugging out of a fashionable scarf and draping it over the back of her chair. She looked so different. On the island, Aggie had seemed grandmotherly. Dowdy, even. Now her gray hair had been cut and swept back from her face. She had no electives, but wore a hint of regular cosmetics. No faded dresses and cardigans or aprons for her now. Aggie wore a gorgeous tunic in brilliant shades of blue and green with matching jewelry.
“You look incredible. Gorgeous,” Nina added, wishing she’d taken the time to dress up instead of putting on a pair of comfortable leggings in her usual black. She had worn a colorful tunic top that reminded her of the clothes she’d worn on the island, but she wasn’t nearly as put together as Aggie. Then again, she thought with a rueful chuckle, she wasn’t likely to ever be.
The older woman waved a hand. “Pshaw. I threw something together last minute.”
But her impish grin and sparkling eyes told Nina she was kidding. They both laughed. The waiter arrived to take their drink orders, and Aggie also put in an order for an appetizer platter. The big one.
“You’ll be hungry, I wager,” she said by way of explanation.
Nina’s laughter eased into a small smile. “Yes. Almost always.”
“You look lovely, by the way,” Aggie said.
Nina sighed, and her expression crumpled even though she tried hard not to let Aggie see her distress. “Thanks.”
“Oh, my girl. What’s the matter? Wait. I know.” Aggie reached across the table to pat Nina’s hand. “I know.”
“You knew everything all along, didn’t you? About me and . . . him.”
Aggie gave Nina’s hand another pat and sat back as the server brought the platter of food. She waited until he’d gone before she sighed and nodded. “Yes. From the start.”
“Everyone knew except me. It feels a little . . . violating,” Nina said, but added hastily, “not that I blame you.”
“You can blame me as well as anyone else.”
Nina frowned. “You were doing your job. It was to help me.”
“You blame him,” Aggie mentioned quietly. “Do you think anything he did was for any other reason?”
“I wasn’t in love with you,” Nina replied bluntly. “Somehow, that makes it different.”
Aggie’s mouth thinned, but she didn’t answer at first as she took up a slice of bread laden with olives and cheese. She tucked it into her mouth and gestured at Nina to do the same. Neither of them spoke until Nina had eaten a piece, then another at Aggie’s insistence.
“Every discussion is easier with a full stomach,” Aggie said.
Nina didn’t disagree. By the time the tray had been emptied and orders for more food placed, she felt a little better. At least until she glanced at the viddy screen set into the tabletop. She’d been ignoring it until now, the sound muted, but at the sight of Ewan’s face she let out a small gasp and turned up the volume.
“ . . . calling for a complete exoneration of Jordie Dev and his involvement with the League of Humanity.” Ewan paused and continued, but Nina’s shock made it too hard to hear him.
She didn’t have to. The ticker line scrolling along the bottom of the screen made it clear what he was talking about. She swallowed a rush of bile.
Aggie reached over and stabbed off the volume controls again, then covered up the screen with the empty appetizer platter. “Don’t.”
“How could he?” Nina shook her head, too stunned to say more.
“If he is doing what that screen says, then I’m sure Mr. Donahue has a very good reason.”
Nina drew in a long, deep breath. “He’s excusing Jordie Dev. More than that, he’s calling for him to be released and exonerated? Aggie. How can there be any good reason for that? I don’t remember everything, thank the universe, but I remember enough to know that Jordie did some very messed up things.”
“I don’t know why Mr. Donahue would be saying those things, Nina, but I do know him as a person. If he’s going public to encourage forgiveness for that Dev boy, he must be very certain that he’s making the right choice. That’s all I’m saying.” Aggie paused and gave Nina a sad look. “Have you spoken to him at all since you left the island?”
Nina shook her head. The server brought their entrees and set them on the table, making it easy for her not to answer right away. She waited until they were alone again before plucking an eggplant disc from the plate and crunching it. Her stomach lurched, and she put the food down.
“Before you rush to condemn him, perhaps you should ask him what’s going on.” Aggie frowned.
“I asked him to tell me what was going on many times. So many times, he kept the truth from me. Why would this time be any different?” Nina demanded, speaking too loudly before she forced her voice to lower. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault, and I shouldn’t shout at you.”
“You know why he had to keep secrets from you on the island. Why all of us did. Anything could have caused you to . . . well. You know full well, I’m sure, what we were so worried about.”
“There were other things,” Nina said quietly. “Before the island.”
Aggie shook her head. “Sure and enough, on that I cannot speak. I only know what I saw on the island, when Mr. Donahue loved you enough to do whatever he thought was necessary to protect you.”
“You think I ought to just forgive him.”
“I think,” Aggie said gently, “that holding onto anger never does anyone any good, in the long run.”
Nina thought on that as she tried to nibble at another eggplant disc. Her stomach wasn’t having it. She took a drink of water, instead.
“I’m not sure I could ever be with him again. I . . . well, Aggie, I love him.” Nina lifted her chin and looked into the older woman’s eyes. “I do. And he loves me. But that doesn’t seem to be enough, somehow. And I’m not sure what to do about it.”
“If you don’t ask him what’s going on, you’ll never know.”
“I’m afraid that if I do ask him, he will lie to me out of some misguided attempt at protecting me. Because I’ve still got that programming, Aggie. It could be set off at any time. What’s to stop Ewan from sweeping everything under the rug again?”
“The fact he’s all over the viddy channels would seem to mean he doesn’t think he could keep it from you,” Aggie said. “Sure and enough, he’d have to know being that public means it can’t be kept from you.”
“That’s what he’s doing. But if I ask him why he’s doing it, what’s to stop him from lying?”
Aggie shrugged and tucked a bite of her own lunch into her mouth. She chewed carefully. Swallowed. She smiled.
“I don’t know, my dear. But unless you talk to him, you will also never know.”
Nina got to her feet. “Aggie, I’m sorry to cut this lunch short, but I think you’re right.”
“Go,” Aggie said and stood to hug her, hard. She pulled back to look Nina in the face. “There will always be time for more lunches. Right now, you go talk to him. I’m pulling for you both.”
* * *
Nina didn’t know where Ewan was physically, but that didn’t stop her from pinging him from her house. She used the wall comm because she wanted to be able to pace without holding her personal unit. She regretted it as soon as his face came into view—bigger than life-size. Handsome as ever.
“I tried pinging you, but you didn’t answer,” he said immediately. “I wanted you to hear it from me first.”
She refused to feel guilty about not taking his call. “You pinged me twice. You didn’t try very hard.”
“Time is short. I knew you’d see the news story, and if you didn’t . . .” Ewan coughed and cleared his throat. Shrugged, but did not look apologetic. “I was going to try you again.”
“You’re pushing for Jordie’s release?”
“It’s done,” Ewan said.
Nina winced. “I don’t understand.”
“Katrinka’s team found a way to destroy the self-termination programming. Her conditions for it to be released to all of you was Jordie going free.” He paused. “Her condition for it being released to you was my public apology and support of his exoneration.”
I’m sure he has a reason.
“Oh.” Nina didn’t have more to say than that.
“You need that new programming. I did what I had to do. My team is still working, Nina, but if Katrinka has something that can help you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you get it.”
She nodded stiffly. “Thank you.”
“You know you don’t have to thank me,” Ewan said quietly. Through the screen, his gaze burned her. His smile seemed sad. “You look good. How’ve you been?”
“Terrific,” she answered, too fast. Too harsh. “Thank you for the money. It wasn’t necessary.”
Ewan frowned. “I already told you. You don’t have to thank me.”
“Yes, I do. You have done nothing but try to take care of me in ways I’m sure I still don’t even know about.” She swallowed against the rush of emotions tightening her throat. “You look good, too.”
“I don’t feel good, Nina. I feel sad.”
She pressed her lips together for a moment before answering. “Yeah. Me, too.”
“I love you. I want you to know that. If you can never forgive me, I understand. But you should know that I will do whatever is necessary to make your life easier. Better. If you don’t want to be with me . . . could we at least be friends?”
Nina’s snort of laughter took her by surprise. “Does that ever work for anyone? Being friends after . . . well. Just after.”
“We were friends on the island.”
“I didn’t know then what I know now,” Nina told him.
Ewan sighed and rubbed at the spot between his eyes. “All I know is that I would rather have you in my life in any small way, any way at all, than not in it. I’ve missed you, so onedamned much.”
“I miss you, too.” It was the truth. It was going to take a lot more time for her to work through her complicated mess of feelings about him, and she wasn’t sure they would ever be able to resolve them. Beyond the ways she felt he’d let her down and betrayed her, there was the very real possibility that they were simply incompatible for something beyond the bedroom.
Thinking of that, his kisses, his touch, his smell and taste and the feeling of his body against hers, Nina shivered. It was a good thing she’d chosen to connect with him over the comm and not in person, because right now if he’d tried to pull her into his arms, she would have allowed it. He probably knew it, too.
It was not only the comfort and pleasure his body provided, though. She missed the back-and-forth banter she was remembering more of, every day. She missed the way he’d made sure she was cared for on the island, when she’d known him only as a stranger, forbidden to her because he was her boss. He’d been there for her, all along, doing his best to keep her safe. Yeah, he’d messed up, but like Aggie had said . . . hadn’t he always had a reason?
“When do we get the new programming?” she asked instead of saying anything else about their relationship.
Ewan nodded toward the screen. “Katrinka’s team is running some final tests, but it should be within the next week. It’s going to be a small patch, a few lines of code.”
“That’s it?” That didn’t sound right to her, but unlike some of her peers who’d made it their duty to understand everything about the enhancement tech, Nina had never been a techie. It worked, or in some cases, did not work, and that’s all she needed to know.
“Yes. Simple.”
“Yet it took so long for it to get figured out.” She hadn’t meant it as a criticism of him or his team, but Ewan’s expression said maybe he’d taken it that way.
“We had a different set of protocols in place that Katrinka did not,” Ewan said, but no more than that.
Nina moved closer to the screen without thinking before remembering that he was on the screen, not in front of her. He could be on the other side of the world for all she knew, and felt that possible distance keenly. “What does that mean?”
“Her team got there first,” Ewan replied evenly. “That’s what counts. All the rest of it is just words.”
Nina frowned. “He’s going to get out?”
“Yes. It seems that way.”
“No justice,” Nina said.
Ewan shook his head, looking solemn. “Sometimes there isn’t any. But will it matter, Nina, if it means that you’re going to be all right? Each and every one of you. And I swear to you, I’m going to do everything possible to make sure you all continue to be monitored and upgraded as necessary, forever.”
It was a complete turnaround from how he had felt when she first met him, but she could hardly complain about that, could she? “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Ewan said with a sigh at more of the gratitude he’d told her she didn’t need to share.
There was silence while they stared at each other, separated by more than wires and glass and even physical distance. So much between them she feared would never be resolved. So much she wanted to say but did not know how to find the words.
“I do miss you,” she told him in a voice that trembled and cracked until she clamped her mouth closed and swallowed hard. “So much. It hurts.”
“You don’t have to, baby. I’ll send a transpo for you. You can be here in no time at all.”
Before she could answer, Ewan’s attention was snagged upward. Nina heard the faint noise of another ping coming through. For a moment it looked as though he meant to ignore it, but then he went dark, paused. He was back before she had time to get disgruntled at the interruption.
He looked serious, intense. “Everything’s gone through. Approved. You need to get to the hospital right now.”
“What’s the rush?” Her joke fell flat when her words came out sounding belligerent.
“They’ve put a time limit on the updates. Anyone who doesn’t get them this week will not be eligible.”
Nina’s lip curled. “Wow. Nothing like using someone’s mental health as a way to control them.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” Ewan said.
“It’s not you,” she told him. “It’s them. But I guess I’d better pack a bag and get there. Where is it?”
He hesitated.
“Where, Ewan?”
He named the research hospital she’d been in the first time around. Lots of bad memories there, although there were still a few spots she could be grateful remained blank. The idea of going back there did not sit well with her, but Nina lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. She’d never been a woman to let something frighten her enough to run away from it.
Except, she realized, when it came to Ewan.
“Will you go with me?” she asked him.
“Yes,” he said at once. “Absolutely.”