Jessica wondered at the small group as they contentedly trooped from exhibit to exhibit. Trust Moirrey to decide that they needed a day off and that it should be a visit to the zoo. And then convince everyone to go along with her.
The Evil Engineering Gnome and Casey wore matching, perfectly contrasting sun dresses for the warm weather. Marcelle and Willow were in outfits that might be interpreted as paramilitary tactical gear, at least by a civilian. Jessica wore one of her older green and black Command Centurion uniforms, minus all patches and identifying badges of any kind.
That was for the benefit of the last member of the troupe, Captain Wald. Torsten, since he was also wearing a semi-civilian outfit that might just as easily pass for that of an economics professor, which he might have been. And might yet be once he retired from active duty. Average height for a man meant that he was shorter than both Marcelle and Casey, although taller than Willow, Moirrey, or Jessica. His dark brown, curly hair was clipped exceptionally short today, enough so that Jessica could see the gray hairs starting to infiltrate everywhere.
The zoo was mostly empty of visitors, this early in the day and late in the season. A few other groups of tourists were wandering about. Several parents with young children in strollers or tow, exploring the sights and smells.
“What’s next?” Casey asked Moirrey, arm in arm like long-lost-sisters.
Moirrey carried a map in her free hand. She lifted it up and studied it for a moment.
“Dinna know,” she chattered. “T’ink I’d ken do th’birds next. How’s ya feels ’bouts holding an owl on yer hand, Case?”
“An owl?”
“Aye,” Moirrey beamed. “They does falconry here, but night critters, with trained owls. Always wanted me an owl when I were a kitten. No place fer one onna ship, thoughs.”
“I like it,” Casey replied. Jessica watched her turn and bring everyone into the conversation with her gaze. “How about you?”
Jessica glanced at Torsten and caught a ghost of a grimace. He apologized with a shrug.
“If I may,” he said carefully. “I think I would like to rest here on a bench for a bit. You ladies go enjoy the raptor house and come get me in a bit?”
“Ooh, we can waits.” Moirrey chirped. “Is no goin’ nowhere.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, making a friendly motion to shoo the woman and all her energy along.
“You go,” Jessica decided. “I’ll stay and keep him safe from nannies and pigeons.”
Willow started to say something, being the way-too-serious bodyguard, but Marcelle cut her off with a look. After several years together, nothing more was needed. And Lady Casey was a bigger target than Jessica, out of uniform and hiding in plain sight. The rest left.
Jessica followed Torsten to a concrete bench at a crossroads in the walkway, watching the man walk with a hint of a limp. Across the way, the four women made their way to a giant, red barn, wood-sided and with big, sliding doors. It reminded Jessica of something one of her uncles once had on his own farm. A place to store harvesting equipment for the most of the year it was unneeded, but must be protected from weather.
The whole zoo had that feel to it, which made sense. Penmerth might be the capital city of the Republic, but it had never grown into anything bigger than a medium-sized college town surrounded by millions of hectares of farm country in every direction.
Bankers went to Anameleck Prime to make money and fame. The Navy preferred a small-town feel to what it did. Kept the staff humble, to live among the farmers and ranchers that really represented the backbone of the nation.
A slight breeze picked up as they sat. There would be clouds later, just peeking over the horizon, but the sun was out now, so he had chosen the side of the walkway with shade.
Seated, Jessica could see the straps that held the man’s prosthetic leg in place through the normally-baggy cloth. Then-Lt. Commander Torsten Wald had won the Imperium Medal for Bravery for his actions, saving several members of his crew from death in a hull-breach. He had lost his left leg about mid-femur when he got caught in a slamming emergency bulkhead, pulling the last of his men to safety instead of himself.
Afterwards, he had gone back to school from his hospital bed and rehab assignments, discovering a penchant for numbers theory. A PhD in economics had been his ticket to a staff job, a year before he would have been ready to return to active duty on a warship. He had never looked back.
With Lady Casey walking away, she watched Torsten relax enough to show the amount of pain he must be in.
“Bad?” she asked, watching him massage his left thigh.
“New planet, new gravity, new weather,” he said through gritted teeth. “Didn’t realize the walking would aggravate it this badly, or I would have brought something for the pain and the swelling. I’ll be fine by the time they remember they left us here. And it was a good excuse for us to talk, semi-publically, but without everyone around.”
“I see,” Jessica replied.
She did, too. The four weeks since they had arrived on Ladaux had been a whirlwind of activity. This was the first day since then that Jessica had been able to schedule time for her and Moirrey to take their guests touristing without it interfering with meetings or other official duties.
She hadn’t been completely alone with the man in nine months. Not since the reception where she first met him, and even then hadn’t been alone, instead surrounded by all the women of her traveling household in the midst of a formal, Imperial reception. It had merely felt like just the two of them, until Emmerich Wachturm intruded.
She studied Wald’s eyes. Green, like hers, with depths of pain and uncertainty visible, even now. Serious face. Utter stillness.
Like that first time they met, she watched him hesitate, a naturally-reticent man forced to speak up in a potentially-awkward situation. A minefield stretched out between them, even if only a psychological one.
Jessica had been waiting for him to get comfortable enough to confront her. It appeared he had arrived.
She watched the faintest grin cross his face.
“This is not a question for the Fleet Centurion, nor the Queen,” he said carefully. “Possibly, the Wildgraf.”
Jessica smiled, suddenly back in that reception and watching this man work up the courage to confront Fribourg’s greatest enemy. Alone.
“Ask, Captain,” Jessica replied mildly, just as she had then. “I will judge.”
Still, he hesitated, probably reliving that night as well.
“I understand the reason I am here, on Ladaux,” he said with a tone verging on angry grimness, but never quite succeeding. “Reasons. Two-fold, in fact. Lady Casey really did need a naval construction specialist, a fleet officer, and an economist on her staff. I was handy, an expert in all three, and the Grand Admiral trusts me.”
“But?” she pressed carefully.
“I am concerned at Emmerich Wachturm’s ulterior motives,” he continued. “And possibly His Majesty’s as well, since something like this had to have been approved at the highest level.”
“What did Em say?” Jessica asked.
“To me?” he replied. “Nothing. Nothing at all. But there were questions. And rumors. And Desianna asked things as well, both before we left and on the trip here.”
He ground to a halt at that point, confronting a chasm Jessica could see at the man’s feet.
“I am an Imperial officer,” he spat out quietly, gesturing with the hand farther away. “I know my duty. But, this…”
And that was where words failed.
Jessica nodded. She had been down this same logical path. There had been days she wanted to head straight back to St. Legier and strangle Admiral Wachturm for presuming to send Torsten Wald along on this mission, with all that it implied.
And days she wanted to thank the Grand Admiral for that same presumption. Possibly the Emperor, the old Emperor, as well.
She smiled again to put Torsten at ease. He had wanted to ask a question of the Wildgraf, and not the Fleet Centurion or the Queen. In Imperial culture, that made it a personal question.
“And you are concerned at the expectations placed upon you by your superior officers,” she said. “The personal implications of sending you, rather than any other officer.”
Silently, Torsten nodded, an officer facing the gallows, but doing so without flinching.
“Because there was a spark between us that night,” she continued. “Something we have not discussed, but both recognized, however silently we did so.”
Again, he nodded. The pain was back in his eyes. Physical, as his thigh muscles screamed in agony. Emotional, as the two of them came face to face over a topic that they had only danced around, ere now.
Sitting, Jessica had been very careful to retain a space between them. Two acquaintances on a bench, chatting, rather than lovers on a rendezvous.
She reached out her right hand, slowly and carefully, but not tentatively, placing it on his shoulder.
“In Fribourg culture, it would be incumbent upon you to make your feelings and emotions known, Torsten,” she said. “And, thus, you must confront the Wildgraf on a personal topic that touches too close to home. Especially as she outranks you socially and militarily.”
He nodded, still silent. She could feel how hard his heart was pounding right now. Almost as much as hers, which surprised her.
“How fortunate we are, then, to be in Aquitaine, Captain,” she continued. “This topic can be addressed on a personal level, and not as an affair between nations.”
He started breathing again at that. Shallow. Rapid. But breathing.
“Am I wasting my time, pursuing the woman Jessica Keller?” he asked. “The Wildgraf? Should I retain the distance between us, and act only as Lady Casey’s Aide d’Economics?”
Jessica realized that she had stopped breathing as well, poised on this man’s response.
“I don’t think so, Torsten,” she replied, looking inside herself. “There has been nobody in my life since I lost Warlock. There hasn’t even been an interest in looking on my part, until now. I will make you no promises on the topic, except an open mind.”
He smiled suddenly. It lit up his entire face.
“That’s all a man can ask, Wildgraf Keller,” he said.
He held out a hand, which she took. His palm was warm, but not drenched. Firm.
The smile reached all the way to his eyes, washing out much of the pain.
Jessica realized she probably had the same look in her eyes.
Nobody had gotten close enough to look in six years.