Chapter 17

In the morning, the contestants were roused early.  They gathered on the wharf where the launches from the Radiant Heart deposited them, along with their coordinators, the singles, and camera crews.  Tony Ariel was there as well.  He read off the assignments through a bullhorn and gave each pair instructions on how to proceed to the location for their day trip.

Harm wasn't too terribly surprised to find himself with Nikki Upton.  Her choice of activities was a twelve-mile hike through the mountains that filled the center of the little caribbean island.  Harm had to chuckle at that.  If she thought wearing him out would lower his defenses to her various charms, she was mistaken.  At his age, all it was likely to do was to wear him out.

One of three helicopters was waiting to take them to the trailhead.  The show's staff had provided light packs containing some basic first aid supplies, climbing gear, food and water.  The two cameramen assigned to them had radios for emergencies.  Harm simply laughed at Selena's repeated attempts to get him to take off the heavy-weave cotton shirt he was wearing.  There was no way he was going to cart an unfamiliar pack-- even a light one-- on bare shoulders.  He'd known better than that since his days in Laos.

Mac stood a short ways away, utterly breathtaking in a flowered bikini and matching sarong.  To be honest, Harm wasn't entirely thrilled with her wardrobe choice, but her instructions had been to wear something she could swim in and she didn't have any one-piece suits.  They'd made all their costuming choices several weeks before their relationship had changed so dramatically, and he wondered what, if anything, Mac's choice of swimwear meant.  After all, they had argued about her wearing-- or not wearing, more specifically-- a bikini once upon a time.

Harm pushed the thoughts aside.  It simply didn't matter any more. 

Mac turned as if sensing his attention.  She smiled, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.  Harm's heart skipped a beat.  No, it didn't matter any more.  Not at all.

Mac was going to be leaving soon, in one of several bright yellow Honda Passports bearing the Temptation Cruise II logo.  The young man escorting her reminded Harm of the Greek statues of Adonis: curly black hair, olive skin, and a physique to make an Olympic swimmer jealous.  Not to mention a Navy Commander or two.  What were they supposed to be doing today?  Beach combing?  He wondered how Mac would take to such a frivolous activity.  It didn't strike him as the kind of thing she'd have the patience for, but then again, he'd never been on vacation with her.  He really didn't know how she would enjoy spending her days in the sun.

One of the cameramen, who also doubled as the driver for Mac and her date, began indicating that it was time for them to go.  Mac nodded acknowledgement, then turned to Harm.  The fearful longing in her eyes took his breath away.  He hated the idea of being separated from her, even for a day, and hated even more the circumstances that would be working to tear them apart.

Harm crossed the distance between them in two strides and swept her up into a passionate embrace.  He wanted to drink her in-- fix the taste and scent and feel of her more firmly in his memory to make sure he could take that much of her with him when they parted. 

Mac sighed a little as they separated, but her smile was the one Harm lived for.  Everything he had accomplished in his life-- as a lawyer, an officer, even a fighter pilot-- paled beside the knowledge that he had, and did, make this woman happy.  Marriage had always seemed like such an awesome and frightening responsibility.  Which it was, he had to admit, but it also fulfilled some basic, masculine need inside him-- something he hadn't even suspected he was missing.

"Have fun, Mac," he said.  "I love you."

Her smile deepened.  "I love you, too.  I don't think I'll ever get enough of hearing that."

The comment sparked a thought, which Harm filed away for another time.  Mac liked romantic gestures, and this one didn't require anything but some time alone and a pad of post-it notes, which he was sure he could come up with.

Then it was time for Mac to go.  Harm walked her to her vehicle and held the rear door for her while she got in.  It gave him the opportunity to meet Mr. Greek Statue's eyes over the hood of the car and impress on him the amount of pain he would be inflicting on himself if he behaved even slightly improperly toward Mac. 

Being who and what he was, Harm had a pretty intimidating stare when he chose to use it.  The young man swallowed hard before ducking to enter the vehicle.  Satisfied, Harm leaned down to smile at Mac once more, then stepped back as the yellow Passport pulled away.

That done, Harm went in search of Nikki Upton.  There was no sense in delaying any longer.  The sooner he left, the sooner he could return… hopefully to find Mac waiting for him.

#

"Hey, Geordi, this one needs some cleaning up." 

Geordi-- more properly George Laughton-- turned to look at his fellow tech.  George was young, black and somewhat baby-faced, but the nickname came from his uncanny ability with electronics rather than his resemblance to the Star Trek character.  He walked over to his compatriot and took the proffered headphones, holding one side to his ear.  He nodded to the other man.

Tomorrow won't get here for a while yet.  Do you think we can find something better to do with our time than worry about it?  A man's voice.  Rabb, if he had to guess.  The words were clear.

"Which cabin is this?" he asked.

"Six."  Yes, that was the Rabbs.

"The cameras are still on?" It was more of a rhetorical question than not.  The audio units integrated with the cabin cameras were far better than the secondary systems that kicked in when the lights went out.  Those recordings weren't airable because they weren't supposed to exist, but the producers thought they could provide important information.  Geordi didn't care much one way or the other.  Anyone who volunteered to go on the show, he figured, deserved whatever they got.

Was that an invitation? Mrs. Rabb's response.  Arch, confident, daring.  And still crystal clear.

"What's the problem?" Geordi asked.

"Last line," was the response.

Geordi listened.

More of a challenge, really, Rabb was saying.  How did he manage to sound so innocent saying that?

Well, you know how much I love a challenge.  Not that she was fooled.  These two were awfully funny to listen to. 

Geordi heard footsteps, then a soft click, followed by the hiss of the cheap analog recording system as it took over.  His attention sharpened. 

--at's my --arine--  It was barely a whisper, followed by muffled, intermittent sounds that made him think there probably wouldn't be any more meaningful conversation for a while.

He reached for the controls, spun the tape back and listened again.  That's my… tangerine?  Marine? A dream?  Nothing jumped out at him as a likely endearment.

"You think it's important?" Geordi asked, letting his skepticism show.  They had a truly terrifying amount of tape to sort through each day. 

The other man shrugged.  "Not really, but Steiner said to make sure he got everything with these two in it, so he might think it was."

Geordi frowned, his thoughts suddenly turning in new directions.  "Why these two?"  He hadn't heard those instructions, but he wasn't the senior tech.  Still, given his own private instructions from Steiner, the possible connections were intriguing. 

"It's not just them.  He wants the Andersons and Crossby/Esperanza, too."

Geordi shrugged.  "Oh.  O.k.  Well, I can try to get some more out of it.  Mark it for me and leave it on my desk when you leave and I'll try to get to it after lunch."

The other tech gave him a sympathetic grin.  "I'd tell you I'll be thinking of you while I'm sipping margaritas on the beach, but I'd be lying."

Geordi chuckled.  "That's all right.  I can't stay in Ariel's doghouse forever."  A few unappreciated comments had gotten Geordi condemned to work the AV room while everyone else enjoyed their shore time.  However, since he'd done it intentionally, he could hardly complain.

The other tech finished up a few things, then left.  Geordi waited.  After a while he checked the time. The dual banks of surveillance monitors showed little activity.  Almost everyone had gone ashore. No one was likely to interrupt him now.

Gathering his toolkit, he walked into one of several equipment rooms that adjoined the AV room.  His assignment from Steiner was tedious, if technically interesting.  Tracing every single recording circuit was likely to take him the entire cruise, and he wondered what the show's producer thought he might find.

#

Mac was bored.  B-O-R-E-D.  Bored.  Looking for seashells was all well and good for a little while, but after several hours she needed a new diversion.  Unfortunately, Alex Tantanopolous, her lovely but shallow companion, was convinced she should be having the time of her life.  Oh well.  She was a Marine.  She'd endured far worse.

Lunchtime arrived to her intense relief.  Food was always a welcome diversion and she was starved.  Like Harm said, her metabolism ran at an insane rate.  She'd had to forego her usual midmorning snack, which left her feeling truly famished.  She was about to mention her hunger to Alex when she spotted a picnic blanket and attending umbrella laid out on the sand.  She turned in that direction, assuming the spread couldn't have been meant for anyone else.

"Oooh, I'm starving.  Let's eat!" 

Alex followed her, eventually breaking into a jog to beat her to the site.  He dropped to one knee beside a large picnic basket and began pulling out various dishes.  Mac helped, figuring they would get to eat that much sooner.  The smells wafting out of the basket made her stomach growl.

Alex looked over at her in surprise. 

"Yes, that was me," she told him with a touch of asperity.  "I told you I was starving."

Alex smiled and handed her a plate.  "Here, then. Eat."

Mac started lifting lids.  "It smells wonderful."  She guessed the dishes were all Greek, based on her limited knowledge of Mediterranean cuisine.  But whatever they were, they were good.  She demolished her first plate, then slowed down to enjoy seconds.

Alex watched her in a mixture of amusement and awe.  He didn't take much for himself, she noted.  Lots of rice and vegetables, but not much of the meat.  And no sauce at all. 

"You eat like my husband," Mac said, unable to hide her grin as the words rolled off her tongue.  My husband… that sounds so good. 

Alex gave her an odd look.  Well, if he thought she wasn't going to mention Harm, that was too bad. 

"How so?" he asked after a moment.

Mac shrugged.  "Disgustingly healthy."

Looking a bit wounded, Alex set his plate down.  "A good diet is important.  I believe there are three basic components to a person-- mind, body and soul-- and each one has to be properly cared for…" He went on for a while, espousing what Mac quickly deduced was his life philosophy and which, apparently, covered absolutely every possible moral, ethical and personal issue.  She wondered if he'd gotten it from a book, or more likely, a TV special.

That's not very nice, she chided herself as she tried to maintain a polite expression.  Luckily she still had some food left to occupy part of her attention.  Not to mention dessert, if there was one.  At least Harm didn't rely on some wacky philosophy to justify his health nut tendencies. 

Alex wound down just as Mac started her search for dessert.  She found something reminiscent of a fruit tart, and equally tasty. 

Reclining on one elbow, Alex brought out a small book from a side pocket of the basket and began to read.

Mac almost choked on her pastry.  Poetry?  He's going to read me poetry?!  She managed to contain her reaction with an effort of will.  In general, she had little use for poetry.  Not that one… or two-- short-- situationally appropriate poems… from Harm… might not be appreciated…

Sighing in feigned contentment, Mac found a comfortable spot in the sun and lay back.  She could at least work on her tan, maybe even daydream a bit so long as Alex stayed put where he was, safely on the other side of the picnic basket.

Lying there, she wondered if Harm was having as much fun as she was.

#

Nikki Upton was an ambitious woman.  So far she was the only one who'd managed to garner even the slightest notice from Harmon Rabb, a feat that had won her instant respect-- and jealousy-- from the rest of the female staff.  Nikki reveled in it.  Harm was, without doubt, the show's top prize, one she intended to claim.  Whoever did that would be remembered after the show ended.  Her name would be instantly recognized, and doors would magically open.  Nikki didn't really want to spend the rest of her life working with computers.  It would pay the bills until something better came along, and hopefully that something better was starting now.

She knew how to win Harmon Rabb's heart. 

Not completely, of course.  But enough to make him slip… and that was all she needed.

They were climbing a narrow trail along the edge of a precipice.  Through a thin layer of jungle, they caught glimpses of the spectacular view of the rugged, foliage-covered mountains on the far side of a valley that lay hundreds of feet below them.  At the moment, Harm was leaning against a convenient tree trunk, sipping from his water bottle.  To Nikki's surprise, he'd had little trouble keeping up with her, even though she was an experienced hiker.  Well, she knew he was in good shape. But, the spot she'd picked was only a little ways ahead.  Hopefully, he was amenable to a break.

She turned to Harm.  "Do you mind if I explore up the trail a little ways?  There's supposed to be clearing with an unobstructed view.  It sounded like the perfect place to stop for lunch."

Harm shrugged.  "Suit yourself."  He moved a short ways away and settled on the lip of a moss-covered rock, digging out a small towel to soak some of the sweat from his face and hair.

Pleased, Nikki headed up the trail.  The forest steamed around her as the sun baked off the early morning's torrential downpour.  She was sheened in sweat, her bound-up hair falling in damp, curly wisps around her face.  The entire morning, she'd done nothing particular to invite Harm's attention save a little light flirting, which he'd reflected back at her without ever stepping up the intensity.  Even so, he'd been very pleasant company.  She could certainly see what his wife saw in him.  Well, Mac would get him back, Nikki didn't doubt.  She was that kind of woman.

A few hundred yards along, the trail widened into a small clearing that jutted out over the edge of the cliff, just as the scouting team had promised.  The view was astounding.

"Wow, get a load of that," Nikki told her cameraman with a gesture toward the panorama.  He obediently swung the camera in the proper direction, then returned his focus to her.  Nikki addressed the camera, and beyond it, the television audience.

"There are supposed to be some tree roots hanging out of the cliff just below the edge over there, and I'm going to go take a look.  See, I think what Harmon Rabb really wants is to be a hero, so I'm going to give him the chance to save me."  She smiled for the camera, then turned and walked close to the cliff edge to look over.  Dark gray stone fell away in a tremendous sheer cliff dotted with vines and flowering shrubs.  A few feet below the edge, a wide tangle of roots snaked their way across the stone, as promised.  They looked pretty sturdy.

Cautiously, Nikki inched closer to the lip.  The dark loam squished beneath her hiking boots, still wet from the rain.  She crouched, trying to figure out how best to lower herself.  She didn't have to go very far, just enough to make it look like she was really in danger.

With a sickening lurch and a hiss like sand pouring out of a giant glass, the ground suddenly gave way beneath her feet.  Nikki shrieked in terror as she began to slide over the edge, grabbing desperately for anything that might stop her fall.