Epilogue

1.

TO EAVESDROP WAS not the ladylike thing to do, so Annabelle slowed her pace. The Esmeralda 2 was just about to leave Messor Base and she couldn’t say she was sorry to go. She had noted how the men looked at her after the shooting of Blayney, with a mixture of shock, outrage, and maybe she had seen some disgust from a few. Nathanial and Arnaud had looked…sorrowful but that had not lasted. Their expressions had changed to quiet respect—she hoped they did not begrudge her that sentiment in any way.

Folkard looked at her with understanding. She supposed that made sense; if anyone, he understood the need for what she did. She was, however, pleased to catch a few words exchanged between Nathanial and the captain as she drew near. She overhead Nathanial give thanks to Folkard for rescuing Arnaud. The two men shook hands. The exchange was a little stiff, but it was good to see that Nathanial might have begun some form of healing, and show some good feeling towards the captain again. Annabelle inclined her head to Folkard, who excused himself and went to oversee the next leg of their journey.

Nathanial also excused himself but she had a feeling his abrupt departure was owing to a case of urgency to be elsewhere than because of anything she had done. He had thought his friend lost and now he was found. Perhaps Nathanial would even let his hair down and let Arnaud ply him with a little cognac tonight—a bottle of which Mister Quintana had presented Arnaud with as he left.

It delighted Annabelle to see some light return to Nathanial’s eyes, and it suited her to be alone for a while. She had much to think on. Every stage in their journey constituted a beginning and an end of sorts. The past made a person who they were. No good or bad moment should be forgotten, ignored. Yet sometimes the past should be put to rest, and sometimes it should not.

Maybe there were things she still could not recall, but much of her memory was now restored.

She knew she would never thank Koivunen—how could she?—but his actions had opened up to her a memory she had forgot. A face. That of a little girl with dark hair…

2.

THE LAB DOOR was open when he returned from the control deck. He stopped there for a moment, surprised to see Arnaud struggling to fit his trunk underneath the cot at the far end of the room. Already he had emptied some of its contents and Nathanial’s lab was a mess of instruments and knick-knacks. He supposed he would have to get used to that, and, with a smile, he realised he didn’t mind that at all.

It was just good to have Arnaud here at last. There was simply so much they needed to talk about; that Nathanial had to tell Arnaud. Would he understand, or even care?

Arnaud noticed Nathanial standing there. “Annabelle suggested we ‘bunk together’. I do not think Captain Folkard would like me to be in his room.”

Nathanial glanced up the gangway towards the control deck. “No, I don’t suppose he would.”

Arnaud placed a finger in his mouth and looked around the lab. “Not much space, non? What to do? I have no sleeping bag.” He coughed abruptly, and looked up with the most pathetic expression Nathanial had ever seen.

“You are unwell?”

“Oui. A virus from the Ceres underground, I think. Ne vous inquiétez pas,” Arnaud said, waving away Nathanial’s concern. “No snuggling,” he added, with a slight smile.

Nathanial shook his head. There was a time when he would have responded to that, but instead he smiled. Always the same Arnaud.

“I think we shall have a lot to discuss, then,” Nathanial said and stepped into the lab, feeling better than he had in a long while.

Things were not perfect with Annabelle, but they were on the right path to healing the wounds, and he had made his peace with Folkard. Surely he still held some animosity because of Edwin’s death, but the captain had brought Arnaud back to him—from death in some respects. That went a long way.

He closed the door behind him. It was finally time to move forward again.

The End