Bless Me On My Way - English Edition - dublinertinte (free ebooks romance novels txt) 📗

tell Jack what it was, it was the usual beverage from the instant machine and they all were used to it.
“What do you mean?” Jack replied. He stared at his battered knuckles, grinning as he reached for the cup. His hands were trembling, the effect of the shock had not yet abated.
“Just because Morgan gassed about the Ciudad you bashed his face to pulp? Bessinger would love to throw you out of the station.”
“Then why she’s not here?”
“Hmh?”
“Why did she send you to talk to me? Is she busy?”
Jack sipped the tea, had to lift the head, as his face and his lips were still numb.
“She’s busy and she thought it would be better to clear it from man to man. We checked out the records of the Q-station and it is very clear that you went ballistic because of Rachel…”
Jack tried it again, but his reactions were slow and unsteady and he fell into Rogers arms, they both went down to the ground and Roger came quickly to his feet and levered Jack an arm on his back. Jack was quite and gave Roger no reason to break his arm. He rested his forehead on the floor, his eyes were half closed, muttered: “I’ve never told her about her and even I didn’t mention her name. What’s going on here?”
“I’ll tell you. Can I let you go?”
“Think about it.”
Roger knew that Bessinger was in front of the monitor. Probably Jack knew it too or he suspected it, but he did not show. While taking a look into the eye of the camera under the ceiling he let Jack go.
“If you knock me out I can’t tell you what you want to know.”
“I can punch you to see stars and you will still deliver.”
“You even cannot stay on your feet.”
They sat down in the exact angle of the controlling camera, assessed each other and Jack remained peaceful.
“We rescued you from the remaining of the dome after receiving your tracker signal and to find you half dead was only one of the problems. Rachel was sitting next to you and would not leave you. She hit Bessinger in a soft spot, but she would never admit it. She told Rachel that there would only be one possibility to stay on the station.”
Jack closed his eyes and blocked Rogers voice. He knew what had happened and he did not want to hear more about it. If he had suspected something, he had not reckoned such a statement. That was horrible, even worse as if Bessinger had shot her in the dome when she refused to go away from him. Jack did not want to hear it, but he heard Rogers statement like a metallic screech in his head.
“… She’s doing very well, even though we thought at the beginning she would not cope with it, but she’s a tough guy and it has…”
Jack bent down, let the scars protest mercilessly in his body and Rogers voice was silenced again.
He thought of Rachel in the lake, the sparkles of the water around her shoulders, this glint in her face and on her skin. Her ginger hair like moving seaweed. Rachel, as she fed the ponies and dogs, laughing at the piggishly beasts. Rachel, who cheered him while he was pounded by the sow in the mud. These good memories would disappear. He knew how it would go on on the station, Rachel surrounded by well-functioning space debris, artificial food, artificial air and artificial sleep. Her hair was gone, because they shaved the skulls, her cheerful nature would disappear, because there was no room for such a thing on the station and in this life. The Rachel he had known and loved would be disappeared.
She knows that she can never go back

, Jack thought, she agreed to it just to be with me. She doesn’t know what this means. The Jack she knew is also dead, as well as herself.

Roger watched Jack and did not dare to imagine what was going on in his head. He almost regretted that Rachel’s small favors would now end. He would remind Rachel that these little things should kept as a secret between them.

Bessinger was sitting in the office, checked a few entries in the logbooks, reports of hyenas and incoming news from other local stations. She tried to distract herself, pretending not to think about the problem with Jack, but she could not get it out of her head.
He will demand that we return her to the forest

, she thought, even if all from her clan are dead or disappeared. And during his next deployment he will ensure that his glider crashes. It would be an outrageous idea, but he would do it. He knows that we cannot look for him even on this small planet. I could fit him up with a self-releasing body mine to prevent this. Otherwise I cannot bring him back on track.

She worked two shifts, met with Roger and told him about her assumption. Roger was taciturn, still thinking about the collision with Jack and he agreed the assumption that he planned something.
“We cannot conceal Rachel from him”, he said, “unless we are able to put her on another station before he knows what’s going on.”
“Do you have a bad conscience, Roger?”
He looked at Bessinger frowning. He suspected she already could know about his little secret he used to keep Rachel on track. If so, she did not let on.
“From the beginning it was not a good idea to bring Rachel on board”, he said, “so yes, I have a bad conscience. She’s brave, but she will not hold it forever. Her ambitions are only to be as close to Jack as possible and that will eventually kill her.”
“You question my decision.”
Hell, yes

, thought Roger.
He cleared his throat and said: “I can’t understand you decision, but I do not question. You’re the boss.”
They decided to withdraw Jack from the next operations and to use the drugs and painkillers he still needed as an explanation. At the same time, Rachel received her first order. As expected, she did a good job, she conformed to the team as she was trained for, proved her routine and even from space sickness she was spared.
Their mission was simply to land on a largely dead planet, collect and carefully pack a few samples and return to the station. Sometimes they were ordered to collect rock samples for mineral companies hoping to find a valuable mine on some planets. In this sector a lot of dead planets could be found and those who harbored nor flora or fauna, normally chaos and anarchy were given if several mining companies showed their interests. The men on the stations did all what they were paid for, they were mercenaries. Bringing peace and justice was simply not their tasks.
Rachel did was she was ordered to do and she asked no questions about the background, because all the explanations were too abstract for her. She knew nothing about the political conditions, terms and intentions of the corrupt corporations. Some things she did not even know they existed. She functioned well in her context, but she would reach faster her limits than any other of the privates.

It took two months after the incident at the quarantine station and firstly it seemed that the old Jack was back. He did not mention Rachel at all and discontinued painfully his medications, ready for his next assignment.
Bessinger received a delicate job order and knew that she could only send a handful of the best – Jack and some experienced hyenas. It would mean one of these operations under a foreign flag and if the guys were caught, Bessinger would deny any responsibilities. Jack had managed such jobs in the past and made always the best of it.
While Bessinger went through the operational plan and wondered who she could add to the force, the intercom system squeaked and Roger spoke. He had to be in one of the off time billets because the connection was lousy. His voice was hacked and roaring from the speakers.
“Bessinger, I need your help here.”
She cast a quick glance at the ID of the intercom. Roger was in the area of crew quarters which they called the sound box. It was a small and soundproof room with a computer connected to the full equipped music archive. Many of the crew used the box to hear horrible loud music and let out their aggression. As in all common areas, in the door a glass window was embedded at eye level and Bessinger glanced through it before she pushed the sensor to open the door.
Roger and Jack showed a relaxed and calm appearance and she wondered why Roger had sounded alarmed.
“What’s up?” she asked.
Roger gestured to Jack and Bessinger turned to him.
“I know you have one of the shitty jobs up your sleeves”, began Jack. He had trained hard to facilitate the withdrawal of the medications, had put on some weight. “I assume that I’m the pilot and before we start, I want to see Rachel. This means now. I know that she’s on the station. Roger takes her to me and you give us one hour.”
“Why should I agree?” asked Bessinger.
“Because I ensure to return the guys safely then.”
Roger shrugged and signaled that this whole affair was not up to him. He had been with Jack in the sound box only to sound him out why he showed lack of interest in Rachel. Very soon he had realized that Jack was just waiting for the right time.
“Okay”, said Bessinger, “you promise not to break ranks, than it’s fine with me.”
They all knew it was a lie. Jack would try it again sooner or later and Bessinger was aware of it.
“Why just now, Jack?” asked Roger, “you could try to see her after you learned that she’s on the station.”
“I want to see her before I leave, in case I don’t return home.”
Roger disappeared. Jack sat down on the in-wall bed, stretched out his throbbing leg and stared at the door. His peace of mind returned and he hoped that everything would run as he had planned it since the day he learned that Rachel was on the station. He had been long thinking about it and had made up his mind. If he had seen an opportunity to hide Rachel and him on one of the commercial stations or in another city, he would have done it. But it was almost impossible to get off the station and start somewhere anew. In the cities you needed IDs and as a member of the station troops they had none. On the trading stations the coming and going were monitored closely and no one came on board without previously being screened. A real chance they only had with the Ciudad or on a similar planet, but the chances of survival were low. Alone Jack would have a good chance and he would cope with bad conditions, but he could not do this to Rachel. What was left from the old Rachel after months on the station?
How often had he cheated death? How many times he had woken up after a blackout in the infirmary, connected to the equipment and in so much pain that he could have screamed if his vocal cords would have obeyed. How often had he clamped gaping wounds himself, was woken up after a failed campaign and had found death or injured hyenas around him. All this would also happen to Rachel, no matter whether she could bear it or not.
Jack thought about the small ground-level house