Come Clean

Chapter Three

Beka ran into Dylan about a quarter of the way to Command. She actually walked past him initially. "Beka?"

"Oh, Dylan. Sorry." She stepped back to face him. "Little distracted right now."

"I can believe that." He looked at her seriously. "You know, if anyone can figure it out…" He gestured in the direction of Med deck.

"Yeah, I know." She crossed her arms, feeling itchy under her skin. "I'm just worried. Not much I can do, you know." And yes, the helplessness was a chunk of her unease, but a lot more of it was the way Tyr had looked at her. The last time he'd looked at her like that had been their first year aboard, dispassionate and wary. Calculating. She hadn't realized how much she'd gotten used to seeing his emotions: even at their worst there was something, no matter if it was just lust or anger. It was never this cool assessment anymore.

"I know." Dylan rested his hand on her shoulder, fraternal. "Look, he's in good hands. So's the ship, for now. Go back to Med deck or go take care of Cath. Let me worry about the fate of the universe today."

He may have been a little patronizing, and she could probably have used the responsibility of overseeing Command, but it was coming from a good place. There really wasn't much going on today, with them orbiting Tera Zed until the loose ends from the Mayhora fiasco were tied up, so Command probably wouldn't be a good distraction after all. Besides, she didn't feel up to debating today. So she nodded and watched him go on to Med deck.

With nothing to do until she got some answers from the others, and not wanting to go back to have her husband regard her with suspicion, Beka headed onward. She may as well relieve Mara and let her go back to her own promised day off. She swung by the officers' mess and grabbed a snack before heading to the Obs deck. She really needed something in her own stomach and it had been a few hours for Cath, too.

When she reach Obs deck, Mara was supervising Cath on a climbing frame they'd put there, not having space for it in their own quarters or the Maru. The older woman looked over as Beka came in. "Everything all right?"

"Not yet, but we're working on it." Beka sat next to her and relaxed a tiny bit. Mara was generally extremely calming anyway, and had been a godsend when Cath was tiny and Beka didn't have a clue what to do with her. Most of her ideas came from years of working in childcare on Tera Zed and adapted beautifully to a starship, the climbing frame as a way to wear out an active toddler being one of them.

"Do I need to take her longer?"

"Not for now, but don't go far? I don't know if I'll be called back."

Mara smiled slightly at what had become a private joke; there was only so far to go on a ship, after all, even one as big as the Andromeda. "I'll be around." She paused a moment, as if to give Beka a chance to change her mind, but then left. Not that Beka could blame her, as she'd been promised the day off and she had family and friends on the surface she probably wanted to contact while they were in orbit.

Once it was just the two of them again, Beka pulled out the packet she'd grabbed. While Cath had looked up when she'd come in and then gone back to her play, crinkling the wrapper got her to come over to investigate, and she was happy to stay close to Beka and "steal" crackers. "Yeah, it's been a while since breakfast, hasn't it?" She crunched a few while she listened to what may have been insightful commentary in the unintelligible bits, but most of it seemed to be about the colors of the planet they could see through the window. She wasn't too worried about the details, regardless, still more hung up on worrying about Tyr and everything going on with him. Once the packet was empty, Cath lost interest in staying by her, and after she'd dusted crumbs off them both and the girl went back to her play Beka lapsed into brooding.

Most of it wasn't new. It had circling through her mind for weeks now— months, some of it, since their last encounter with the worldship. It wasn't like they'd had a great marriage before the worldship, wasn't like they'd gotten married for the best reasons, and with every month since that battle the resentment was building. They'd managed to keep it from boiling over around Cath and the others for the most part, but there were still arguments in the solitude of their quarters or the Maru, and she knew they'd slipped with a few verbal snipes on Command on a bad week. There were quite a few days anymore she wasn't entirely sure she liked her husband. Respected, yes, lusted after, of course, some measure of love, but liked? Not always. And she suspected that the feeling was mutual. More than once lately she'd considered taking off her helix, with only the thought of being like dear old Mom and running when it got tough staying her hand.

And the hell of it was that it was her own fault. Tyr wouldn't say it, Nietzscheans having respect for wives and mothers so ingrained, but she knew he thought it. She thought it. But there had been nothing she could do to fix it. About the only thing she could do was let him go. She'd made the decision before he'd left for Mayhora to give him— and her— an out when he came back. After that last fight she'd almost been looking forward to it. But then as the days had gone by she'd realized that giving him that out wasn't necessarily going to be the solution, that she could fix them. If she was right. If he was willing. But they hadn't had a chance to talk the night before, when he and Dylan had returned with that damn rebel leader, and now this morning he didn't remember a thing.

It was funny: a week or two ago this sudden amnesia would have been a godsend. It would have been a quick, simple way to make a clean break. As long as Cath didn't get hurt, she would have taken the chance. Now, though? That same thought was tearing her up and she wasn't sure if it was her own change or if seeing Tyr with his arm bare would have hurt that much anyway.

She leaned on her knees and watched her daughter ruefully, wondering if maybe being half Anasazi would let her escape her Valentine heritage of never, ever doing things the easy way. Where there was life there was hope, after all.

No sooner had she thought that than the computer screen by the door blinked to life. "Hey, Beka?"

Harper. With a last glance at Cath, who had found a cache of story flexis and was spreading them over the floor, Beka headed over. "I'm here. Any news?"

"Some?"

"Any of it good?"

"Some. We isolated the nanos. They're definitely the defensive ones Dylan and Tyr ran into yesterday, they match the dead ones in Dylan's bloodstream, but they're based on standard Nietzschean ones instead of regular defensive models. Which is why they confused Dylan like they were supposed to but went nuts for Tyr. They sort of synced up with his and went into overdrive."

"They seem to be dormant right now," Trance said, appearing next to Harper. "We're not sure if that's because they've run their course or if they only function during certain states of consciousness, since Tyr was fine until he slept last night. For now we're assuming that if he's not awake they'll activate, so Andromeda's not going to let him sleep until we know better."

"Deja vu," Beka muttered.

"I think we can deactivate them permanently, but I can't guarantee we won't have to knock out his normal ones in the process, if his normal ones are even still normal." Harper again. "Can you bring Cath down so I can have a sample of hers to test against? Hers won't be corrupted and I can start growing a new generation for Tyr if we have to replace his completely."

"All right, I'll bring her down." The screen blanked to the High Guard symbol and Beka sighed before turning to collect Cath, who was not happy about her play being interrupted at someone else's whim. She was eventually mollified by taking along some of the story flexis she'd strewn everywhere, one in each hand as they walked down. It would have been faster to carry her, but it wasn't worth the fight, especially when Beka was already weary for so many other reasons. Fortunately her mood improved enough by winning that battle that she seemed likely to cooperate with Trance when she was handed over to her.

"Where'd Tyr go, anyway?" Beka asked, surprised that he wasn't still there once she had a chance to look around. "Or did Trance kick him out, model patient that he usually is?"

Harper flashed a smile at that. "She let him go if he promised not to activate privacy mode so Rommie could monitor him. With exceptions as long as one of us is around, in case you guys need a little time alone." She shot him a look, but he seemed sincere. At least, he seemed sincere until he followed up with, "Or if you need to, you know, reconnect," and waggled his eyebrows at her. He ducked the cuff she aimed at the back of his head, but seemed entertained by the glare.

Deciding not to give him anymore satisfaction, she went back to the important topic. "So did you figure out why three years instead of, you know, everything or just since he was infected or anything?"

"Beats me. Trance's theory is that they were just working backwards. If they hadn't gone dormant when they did he might have forgotten the Andromeda entirely."

"Eesh."

"Yeah."

They lapsed into silence for a moment, watching as Trance deftly extracted a sample of blood and the nanos with it with a single jab and immediately started jollying Cath back to good humor afterward. She was excellent at it. Then Harper said, so quietly she almost missed it, "You doing okay?"

She glanced over at him. She'd been asking herself the same question all morning and still wasn't sure she was telling the truth when she answered. "I think so. We'll get him back. And if we don't…" She shrugged. "I'll have to be."

"Yeah." Harper stood next to her for a little longer before bumping her arm companionably with his and then moving away to Trance and Cath. He must have said something when he got there, combined with the expansive arm gesture she saw, to surprise a laugh out of both of them.

Beka smiled at that, wishing she'd heard it, and then went forward herself to retrieve the youngest of the three. As much as Cath loved being with the either of the other two, they had work to do, and she really wanted them focusing on getting Tyr back rather than playing with a toddler. As she expected, Cath was none too happy to be pulled away again, even after being poked, and fought it. Promising to read stories did nothing except net more protests until Beka played her trump card. "You can get a sandwich for lunch."

"Sammit?" She seemed to consider. She almost never got sandwiches, given her tendency to deconstruct and wear them rather than eat them, and that promise made the clouds clear. "Get sammit now," and she wriggled down out of Beka's arms and marched to the door. Early for lunch, but she wasn't going to argue with what worked, and she picked up the forgotten flexis and waved a fast goodbye before following her out.