Here Is Where
Mental equilibrium was being restored; the crew were on their way back home, most regarding that fact with a mixture of anticipation and relief. Lt. Ruthie McKaye and her staff chatted about their plans over coffee breaks in the Deck 5 canteen. Excitement was building toward going home, reaching Border Starbase 19, reaching out and reconnecting with family and friends. Reestablishing those ties that bind. Brennan Vela and Ambassador Gillis were also anticipating, albeit in different ways, the successful completion of Operation Tarrash: Brennan to get on with her career already; Gillis to rid himself of the burden of Captain Chipman and a certain Ms. Neiswender, if only to pick up the burden of reuniting with Mrs. Gillis. To most onboard, the approach to starbase dock was going to be a beautiful sight. To Joanni, however, the thought of returning—to what she knew and more so to what she was before—could constrict her throat to such an extent that, at times, she needed to splash cold water over her face and breathe deeply in order not to panic.
The captain had at first made plans for the two of them to stay for two nights in the most posh of the three hotels on the starbase. But he had to back out due to a Command request for his immediate debriefing. This hitch seemed to him to foretell the nature of their future together, and increased his guilt for what he saw as his trapping her within never-ending bureaucratic restrictions and regulations, some of his own making—the exchanging of one Gillis for another. They had gone back and forth over this, Joanni protesting; but through all their arguments and conversations, he could not push this burden away.
“Do you feel guilty for loving again and this time it might work?” she had asked him.
“You deserve a man who’s there for you.”
“I deserve the man I love.”
“You know I’m not ignoring you.”
“I’ve gone on my adventure. I’ve lost the loves of my life and I found the love of my life.” It was a loop without beginning or end.
Joanni herself felt guilty for forcing her captain to balance his two loves, for forcing him to dance, constantly torn, between commitments. She knew it would be akin to caging a dog to ask him to take a desk job, but was she not putting him in a cage by the pressure of the expectation that he would remain true to her during their long, inevitable periods of separation. And she desperately wanted him to be true, as she defined it. Was she worth the sacrifice? Would that worth last? Bitterness welled up in her that she was put in the position of making sacrifices, then feeling guilty for requesting sacrifice from others. She recalled the speeches she had made to Tom time and again when he was down and nearly defeated, and realized that it was unlikely (if she was realistic) that anyone would give such a speech to her. He had told her that women were complicated; she had responded that women lead complicated lives.
Jackie and his new band, Jack Sanour and the Leeward Boys, were booked for ten days at Border Starbase 19 during the time the Eridanus arrived and docked there. Their schedule had been set long ago; the coincidence was serendipity as its finest. Joanni saw the digital billboard announcing their gig as she wandered about the main shopping concourse. She surprised herself by not hesitating and immediately went to see him. Arriving backstage during sound check, she quickly realized the people who knew her previously were no longer involved, and she had lost her privileges. Jackie strolled into her sight, pausing at the far end of the hall unaware of his visitor as she squabbled with his gatekeepers. His back was turned toward her, but even so, his black clad silhouette retained its old charm. A charm she had buried in her memories, but which surfaced once again with surprising ease. The charm of a preacher with questionable motives; the charm of a peddler of songs and seduction.
The past had come back, and to Joanni’s surprise, she discovered that it still had a pull. But she was wise enough to understand the nature of this pull. Here was an escape hatch, if one wanted it. An escape hatch to nothing and nothingness, but an exit route nevertheless. The allure of carelessness and she was always so careful. She gave the door manager a text note asking Jackie to call her if he wanted to meet for lunch the next day. He did, and the time and place were arranged.
Tom Chipman was a reasonable man, so he had no objections initially when hearing about Jackie. He thought how he hated jealousy in others, but after a second meeting between Joanni and her old flame, after wasting precious time away from the ship by being dragged and forced to sit through half a Sanour concert, he felt that dread emotion flooding over him, as well as a feeling that this guy could offer her things he could not. Could she be that shallow? She seemed to enjoy milking the situation for all it was worth. Joanni turned to him and said, “We should stay for the second set.”
Chipman, a silent diatribe against ‘flighty women’ raging in his head, simply got up and said, “Make up your mind. The ship departs in four days.” Then he left.
A day and a half later, Chipman entered his quarters, head down, deep in thought, and so was startled when he saw Joanni sitting at his desk in his chair.
She looked up at him and simply said. “I’m where I want to be. Here. I will love you for eons and centuries, until I’m just a vibration in space.” The captain sat down in the guest chair facing her; it was an odd configuration. “This is where I belong,” she continued, “even though the going will be tough, and I could be among the stars and be a star, and here I will be stuck playing second fiddle, and you will probably fool around while I’m not around . . .”
“You talk too much,” he said, visibly relaxing. “Anyway, it’s just Sanour; not like it’s Tippen Ford or anything.”
“From what I hear, Tippen’s nicely . . .” Joanni made a lewd gesture with her hand.
“Where’d you hear that?” he demanded, but she just shrugged her shoulders.
“Anyway . . . whatever the problems and issues, no matter how duty-bound or independent we might be, we’re just going to have to attempt it.” She paused. “Courage, sir.”
“Yes, courage.”
Joanni waved her hand over the icon to open the door to the Cassini suite of the Aurora Auberge. Tom had managed to wedge in two nights before the Eridanus headed back to Earth for R&R, refit, and the next mission assignment. Even so, it remained questionable how much time he could spend with her. Joanni was determined to make use of every amenity in the place to make up for going it alone, part if not most of the time. But material luxury was a poor sop for the absence of human companionship and sensuality.
She walked into the room, marveling at its soft, pastel comfort. A familiar scent reached her and then she saw them: peonies, a beautiful vase of pure white peonies. Real peonies—lush, voluptuous, and blowsy. How did he do it? The light sparkled and reflected off her violet vouronium ring as she lightly touched the heavenly petals, bending down to take in their sweet fragrance. A noise made her stand back up and turn around. The captain had come out of the inner room. He smiled and beckoned her to him.
Image: Love disarms. Source: British Library digitized image from "The Quiver of Love. A collection of Valentines ancient and modern.” W. Crane and Kate Greenaway, London, 1876.