Boundaries
By Joan Powers
Chapter 5
"Hey True-girl" her father's deep voice softly rumbled and she felt his hand brush against her cheek. "How are ya feeling?"
She stirred, opening her eyes. By the low glow of the lumalight in her tent, she could see her father kneeling by her cot, his face was level with her own. Instantly she sensed that they hadn't found Devon yet. Worry lines were clearly evident about his eyes which lacked their usual luster and warmth. She smiled weakly, "Hi Dad. I'm okay."
Her father placed his large hand over her smaller one and squeezed it gently. "Gotta keep you safe, baby-girl."
She hated seeing her Dad so frightened. But he'd never admit that he was. That was one of his many attributes that she admired. She squeezed his hand back, half afraid to ask. "Did you find her?" He shook his head.
"Dad, you're mostly looking around the pond - right?"
"Sure, that was the place she was headed toward" he absently responded. "We've also fanned out, in case she got lost on her way there or back."
"But maybe she saw something while she was at the stream and went to investigate."
"You may have something there Sport." He bent over to give her a peck on the cheek. "Love you. Get some sleep." He tousled her hair as she replied,
"Love you too Dad"
At least his little girl was all right, Danziger reminded himself as he crept out of their tent. Thank God for that. He didn't want to alarm his daughter but he was convinced that Devon had severely injured herself or encountered a hostile penal colonist. For that reason he'd insisted that the search groups carry arms as a safety precaution.
It wasn't like Devon not to answer her gear. That was his flaw, not hers. And he'd fixed that set only the night before. Her lack of response to their repeated hailings could only indicate that she couldn't respond -- a thought which chilled him to the bone.
"You ready?" Walman called over to Danziger.
The mechanic grunted as he shouldered a Mag-Pro then strode over to the other man. A child's cry caused them to freeze momentarily. The two men exchanged glances.
"We don't want to waste any time" Walman commented with some urgency.
Danziger looked towards Yale's tent where sounds of Uly's cries continued, "Just give me a minute."
He hurried towards the tent. As he ducked to peer into it via the open flap he could see Bess trying to soothe the boy. She was perched on the edge of his cot with her arms wrapped about him.
"It's gonna be okay Uly. We're gonna find her."
"But where is she? I don't want to lose her again. It's not fair!" he sobbed.
"We haven't lost her yet. Everybody's out looking for her and you know they're not gonna stop until they find her." She assured him as she began to stroke his curls.
"Can't I help look for her?" he pleaded.
"I think your Mom would want you safe at camp. Don't you?" She wrapped her arms tighter around the child.
As Bess looked up and caught Danziger's gaze, her cheeks became slightly flushed. A look of gratitude crossed over the man's face as he silently nodded to her then backed out of the tent.
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Despite her exhaustion and the throbbing of her aching body, her fear galvanized her - alerting her to every sound that surrounded her in the inky darkness. Somehow, she'd never gotten over her childish phobia of the dark. She shuddered as she sat bolt upright with her knees drawn to tightly to her chest. Perhaps she could curl herself up in a little ball so the night terrors would avoid her. For once Devon fervently prayed that the oblivion of sleep would come so she could escape her misery.
She continued to torment herself by reviewing her failed marriage. Never really needed him she'd spent months, even years mulling over that statement. Eventually she'd come to the conclusion that it might have been true. While she'd missed Mark dreadfully, her companies still ran well and she immensely enjoyed being a parent. She managed to convince herself that she was better off without him.
But she could have handled the situation differently. It wasn't like her just to give up without a fight. If she hadn't been so obstinate and prideful, she could have told Mark how much she loved him and how her life would not have seemed complete without him. Perhaps it wouldn't have made a difference, but she should've tried. Why hadn't she?
It didn't matter -- she'd survived without him, in fact she'd done well. But wouldn't it have been wonderful for Uly to know his father? For Uly to discover for himself where his outrageous imagination had come from? For him to experience the love of two parents, instead of one? If she'd made more of an effort that day, perhaps she could have persuaded Mark to stay and work things out.
Finally, after nearly nine and a half years, as she sat huddled in the dark, she admitted the truth to herself. Why she hadn't tried harder that day. Mark had been one of the few people in her life who made her feel special. Loved and cherished. She'd adored him as well. Their marriage had seemed wonderful to her. Her husband's announcement about not renewing their contract had destroyed her illusion of their perfect life and deeply wounded her. She couldn't even imagine that Mark would have done such a thing, she trusted him implicitly and felt that she could depend upon him. He himself had joked that contracts were a mere formality.
At that moment when he announced that he was leaving, she hadn't wanted to give him the opportunity to hurt her even more. Frankly, she was also terrified to hear what awful things she might have done to drive him away. So for once in her life, she was a coward. She played it safe and kept quiet, leaving things as they were.
Was she about to put herself in a vulnerable position again? Her own words came back to her,
/I can't believe how much I've come to depend upon that man. And maybe more.../
Her face grew warm as she recalled that blunder. She must have been terrified at the time to actually say that out loud. And in front of Alonzo, of all people. From that time on, he continued to give her teasing glances at potentially embarrassing moments.
John must have heard her words. The moment they shared while watching the waves on the beach had confirmed that to her. Actually, she realized that he was attracted to her earlier than that. But at that point on the beach, he seemed to understand that while she had feelings towards him as well, she was confused and had other issues she had to work out first -- other commitments which required her full attention. For a while, he'd respected the boundary that she'd set up.
But after she'd been revived from cold sleep, instantly she sensed something had changed within him. For the first week or so she'd been too disoriented to fight it, so she unabashedly clung to the support he provided. His overture the other night indicated that his patience was growing shorter. He needed more from her. She wasn't ready. But she wasn't sure how to keep stalling him, for he deserved better than that.
Yet at that moment, instead of huddling in the dark feeling cold, scared, and rotten, she would have given anything to be in John Danziger's arms. To be snuggling up close to his chest so she could hear his breathing and the beating of his heart. To be close enough to smell his scent. To have his large callused hands gently caressing her shoulders and his deep voice softly murmuring in her ear. It would've been heaven.
But if she gave in to her desires, would she be repeating her own history - having a wonderful relationship for the first year or two only to have the man she loved leave her again? Would John Danziger leave once that colony ship arrived? Could she afford to take that risk?
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Alonzo held his luma light at different angles, attempting to improve his limited range of vision. As he painstakingly searched the underbrush his less than helpful partner, Morgan Martin, had his rear end parked on the ground. He shoved Morgan's shoulder with a little more force than necessary, "C'mon, we have to keep moving."
"Hey, I'm going as fast as I can. I'm tired. After searching for food all day, how can you expect me to have tons of energy this late at night?" he lamented rather pathetically.
"You think I'm not tired? I was up at least two hours before you got your lazy butt out of bed."
The politician attempted to glare at him but the pilot stared back with greater intensity.
"And what about Devon? How do you think she's feeling right now?" Alonzo argued, fed up by the man's incessant complaining.
"But don't you think our search would be more effective if we continued in the morning?" Morgan let out a huge yawn to punctuate his statement.
"If Devon's run into trouble, she might not have 'til morning" he grimly replied. Unable to think of a fitting retort, Morgan rose to join his companion.
"Alonzo, are you there?" Julia voice came over the pilot's gear. He adjusted his gear and replied,
"What's happening?"
"We found her."
The two men exchanged looks of relief. But the tone of Julia's voice bothered Alonzo. "Is she okay?"
"I think so. Her body temperature is pretty high. Baines and Cameron are going to carry her back to camp."
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Her world seemed hazy, almost 'fuzzy'. She felt as if she were wrapped up in some sort of protective cocoon which was warm and safe -- she didn't want to ever leave. But a distant voice kept prodding her, she couldn't make out what it was saying. She didn't especially care. She stirred slightly, trying to get more comfortable when the voice became more coherent,
"Mom! Mom!"
Uly? Where are you?
His voice became louder, "Can you hear me Mom?"
Her eyelids were far too heavy to open. She was vaguely aware that her son was holding her hand so she tried to squeeze his small hand back. It took a surprising amount of effort. Guess I'm not dead she thought as deep sleep overtook her.
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Other voices, both male and female, intermittently floated around her but she lacked the ability to fully comprehend them or respond to them. She realized that words like "compromised immune system", "lost ground" and "highly susceptible to opportunist infections" should bother her, but oddly enough -- they didn't. She was content to rest in her protective haven.
In addition to the voices, there were also hands -- touching her. Some tenderly clasped her hand, interlocking their fingers between hers, or wiped her forehead with a cool cloth, while others examined her body in a more clinical fashion.
Eventually the haze began to lift and she became curious about the voices. She was able to pry open her eyelids for short glimpses into the real world. The first sight to greet her had been her Teacher vigilantly perched by her bedside. Other times she observed Dr. Heller's serious frown as she concentrated on examining her patient with her diaglove. Uly's worried but smiling face frequently beamed at her, and even John had sat by her side covering her hand with his own.
She had no idea had much time had actually elapsed before she finally had sufficient energy to turn her head and attempt to speak.
"Devon!" Yale gleefully replied as he noticed her stirring, "How are you feeling?"
As she cleared her throat, which was painfully dry, Yale brought a glass of water to her mouth. "Here, drink this." He supported her back to allow her to sit up and sip the water.
"Yale, what's going on?" Devon croaked.
"You've been ill Devon. As Julia had feared, since your immune system is not fully restored you're more susceptible to infection. These cuts on your hand and arms became infected. You had trouble fighting it off. You're lucky we found you when we did, you had a pretty high fever."
Though she hated to ask, she knew she must, "How long have I been out?"
"Two days."
Devon closed her eyes and lay back on her cot. Two entire days? More lost time. The thought rankled her.
"What happened out there Devon?" Yale asked nervously.
She sat up as she collected her thoughts, "Hmm, I swam in the pond. Then I did...something else." Her mind wasn't fully up to speed. What else did I do?
"We presumed you got lost on the way back from the pond. But we found you on the side of the pond opposite our camp. Did you run into trouble?" The fear in his eyes was evident.
"Oh no!" It came back to her in a flash. "I saw a Grendler and tried to follow it."
"What? Devon, why didn't you come back to camp first?" Yale's tone sounded suspiciously like the one he used to admonish Uly.
As all the details flooded into her mind she remembered her own anger. And stubbornness. Yale wasn't going to let her get away with a feeble excuse, he knew her too well. She'd have to come clean.
"I was tired of feeling useless and wanted to do something to help the group" she admitted as she pretended to examine the bandages on her hand and arms.
"Oh. I see. Scarring us all half to death for almost three days helps the group" he sternly responded.
Devon felt as if she were nine years old again and caught in the midst of a childhood prank. With hot cheeks and downcast eyes she mumbled, "I guess not."
"What happened to your gear?" This question had obviously been bothering him.
"I..don't know. When I tried to use it, it was dead" she stammered. Please don't ask when I tried to use it.
"When was this?" he asked, noticing her obvious discomfort.
"About dusk." Her confession was barely audible. She became tense, anticipating that Yale would scold her. But he was silent. She darted a quick glance towards him.
"Yale? Please talk to me."
"What do you want me to say?" was his soft response.
"Okay, I messed up. I wasn't using my head. I'm sorry." She grabbed one of his hands and squeezed it. Surely Yale understood how difficult it was for her to say those words.
"Maybe that will do for me, but what about the rest of the camp?"
"What do you mean?" Her reply was muffled.
"Don't you think you owe them an explanation?"
Mortified Devon pulled back from him and cried, "I can't do that. Please, don't tell anybody." It was embarrassing enough for her to admit her mistake to her long standing confidant. But to tell the entire group? To set herself up to face their possible anger or disapproval? She couldn't do it. She wouldn't do it. After all, she'd learned from her father that it was a mistake to show weakness. It would be best to downplay the incident and just let it blow over. Things would get back to normal soon enough.
"You're not a child. I'll tell everyone the facts. That you tried to follow the Grendler and got lost. And that your gear was broken. However you decide to handle the rest is up to you. But keep in mind that every member of this camp has gone out of his way for you. I think you owe them something" Yale reminded her.
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"Hey Dad!" True shouted over to her father who was lying on his back with his body partly wedged beneath the Dune Rail, "Devon's awake again -- wanna go see her?" She scampered over with a grin on her face, figuring that this news would make her father happy. To her surprise, he didn't look up from his work.
"No. I'll go later" he sharply replied.
True froze, she recognized that tone of voice. Her father wasn't just mad, he was furious. She began to breathe rapidly, panicked that something had happened. "Daddy are you okay?"
"I'm fine" was his blunt reply. As a show of his good will, he crawled out from beneath the Rail to look at his daughter. Despite his rotten mood, the sight of his little girl always brought a smile to his lips. More gently, he added, "I'll be all right True-girl. Why don't you go ahead."
"But...I could help you." She didn't want to desert her father if he needed her.
He shook his head. "Thanks but I'm sure Julia could use your help. I just need some time to myself. I'll talk with you later."
She nodded and backed away slowly as her father reached for a wrench then returned to his work. What was going on? She knew he hadn't been sleeping much lately. Perhaps that was it? He'd spent so much time by Devon's side the past few days that she thought he would have jumped at the chance to talk with her.
She headed back towards the main camp, for the vehicles had been parked a short distance away on a flatter surface. On her way to Devon's tent, she over heard a statement which caught her attention, causing her to pause.
"Why should we be mad at Devon? She tried to help us out by tracking the Grendler" a voice insisted.
Was that Walman? What was going on? She discretely paused behind a tent which obscured her from view of the people having the conversation.
"Come off it, she shouldn't have even been out by herself. She pushed the limits and made herself sicker" Magus's voice claimed.
"Okay, I know I shouldn't have let her go off by herself" Bess's voice said with heartfelt guilt.
"That's not the point" another voiced added. "If Devon had used her head, stayed by the pond and called back to camp when she saw the Grendler this whole mess could have been avoided."
"Don't you think you ladies are being a bit harsh? Look at what the poor woman's been through. Can you blame her for wanting a little privacy?" Walman's voice argued in her defense.
"But look what she put us through. All the anguish. Searching for her half the night. This infection could have killed her. And what about poor Uly and Yale?" Magus's voice retorted.
"What about poor Danziger?" Bess's voice added.
Walman chuckled, "He's got it bad."
True's eyes grew wider. She'd heard enough so she hurried over to Devon's tent. Julia greeted her as she entered,
"Hi True. Can you help me?" The doctor was seated on a camp stool beside Devon's cot. Her hand and arms had been unbandaged, revealing several gashes which were a dull red color.
"Why do they look like that?" True pointed to Devon's wounds.
The doctor explained, "They look much better than they did two days ago. Since Devon's immune system is weak, they got infected and it's taking some time for them to heal. Here, hold her arm steady. I want to irradiate the cuts with this instrument. It'll sting a little Devon." The other woman nodded, acknowledging Julia's statement.
"I'll need to irradiate about half a minute in each sector, okay?" conferring with her helper. True nodded and complied with Julia's directives. The doctor pressed a button on the small hand held monitor to produce a glowing red light. She suspended these beams over each of the wounds.
"Why are you doing this?" True asked.
"Infections are caused by foreign micro-organisms. I'm helping Devon's body kill these invaders by using this technique. Unfortunately she wasn't strong enough for us to try this before now. I'm also hoping to stimulate faster regeneration of the tissue."
Several minutes later Julia turned off her instrument and checked with her patient, "How are you feeling?"
"Okay" Devon replied as she tentatively flexed her fingers.
"Thanks for your assistance True. I'll be back in a few minutes to apply fresh bandages." Julia stepped out of the tent.
True turned to face Devon, prepared to glare nastily at her for upsetting her father and the rest of the camp. But the woman looked so pale and tired, not even as good as she'd looked before she got lost. More charitable thoughts rushed into the little girl's mind as she asked, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm just tired" the older woman wearily answered.
"Were you scared?" Being lost alone in the woods most of the night sounded pretty creepy to True.
"A little" Devon smiled weakly towards the girl. "Where's your Dad?"
"He's busy" the young girl quipped, her defensive posture returned.
"Is something wrong?" she asked with alarm.
Though it was apparent to her that something or most likely some one was bothering her father, she wasn't about to share that information with the probable enemy camp. "Don't think so. Since we've been stuck here, he figures it's a good opportunity to re-check the vehicles. Pretty standard procedure."
"Oh" Devon seemed disappointed.
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TBC