Chapter 37: Compression

Rudy shouted, "Chloe!"

Her eyes flew open. For a second, she saw Rudy's face contorted with – what? Agony? Terror? Rage? Why couldn't she tell?

But the face centimeters from hers was only flush with concern, reflected the dim light of the suite.

"R-Rudy?” Her pounding heart began to slow. She blinked. The awful double vision of Rudy faded. The vision she wanted to see remained. “You're okay?"

"You know me, I'm always okay." Rudy flashed a brief, almost automatic grin, but it couldn't hide the worry lines surrounding his electric blue eyes. "What about you? What the hell happened?"

"What was I doing?"

"You were screaming, kiddo," Rudy said. "I heard you across the hall. If I didn’t expect them to have us both under all kinds of undocumented surveillance, I’d say it was a wonder your buds in the Kronistine Syndicate weren't piling in here thinking I tried to murder you."

That loud? "I had a nightmare." Saying it let her gulp down a breath. Only a nightmare. "We’re still in the compression tunnel?"

He nodded. "Hell of a trip."

Longer than any Chloe remembered in her years aboard the Mother Goose. Just how far out was Stephan’s estate? Far enough to survive a galaxy that had turned against its master, she supposed.

"Folks say staying in one too long can mess with your head," Chloe said. "Maybe that’s why I freaked out."

Sure. A side effect of too long in a compression tunnel. Not because of the horrors she’d seen in the battlecruiser. Not because her parents had been kidnapped because of her, Rudy’s company attacked because of her, Stephan, perhaps, killed because of her.

Rudy’s raised eyebrow suggested he didn’t buy her explanation, either. "Because of the tunnel, huh? Must've been one hell of a bad dream."

Chloe tried to remember the details, regretted it.

She recalled just enough to know she didn't want to know the rest. Scenes from the battlecruiser. A broken world, twisted bodies, but in her dream, the screaming faces belonged to people she knew. Her parents. The Mother Goose’s old crew. Spacers she’d met. The Kronistine men. Admiral Avalon. Stephan.

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And, over and over again, Rudy.

Shuddering, she tried to pull away from him and realized for the first time she was already huddled against the wall where it butted against the reactive gel bed of Stephan's vacated suite.

Rudy gripped her shoulders and tried to force her to meet his eyes. "Clo?"

"I'm fine, Rudy," she whispered. "You should leave now."

"The hell I should. You're about as 'fine' as an Epee with no coolant."

"I said you should leave," Chloe snapped. She pushed him away and scrambled to her feet, sinking almost to her ankles in the yielding gel. Where did Rudy get off, barging into her suite that way? And climbing onto the bed while she slept!

He let her shove him off the bed. He rolled to his feet at the end of the motion, arms crossed.

"Go!" Chloe pointed a shaking finger at the door. "Get away from me!"

"No."

Chloe's fists clenched. She started to snarl another retort.

Instead, she sank back to the bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. She pressed her face against her legs and shut her eyes. She felt Rudy's hand on her shoulder and leaned into him. She fought to keep from crying, though she wasn't sure, as the dream faded into increasingly obscure snippets, who she wanted to cry for.

She forced down a deep breath, set her jaw, looked up.

Rudy frowned down at her. "Feeling better?"

Chloe shook her head.

"Well," he said, "at least you're honest." He winked.

A chuckle fought its way from her lips.

"You better watch it," she said. "Your humor is contagious."

"An epidemic," he agreed solemnly.

"Thanks, Rudy," Chloe said. "I do feel better now."

"Damn straight. I'd hate to waste all this talent." In the dim light, she almost couldn't see how strained his grin was. Chloe was glad her memory of the nightmare continued to fade. She must have sounded even worse than she felt.

Rudy squeezed her shoulder. "No more bad dreams, you hear?"

"Principle willing!"

"You want me to stick around and make sure? I double as a dream catcher, you know."

"Y–" Chloe, remembering at the last minute they were huddled together on a bed, bit back an unthinking 'yes.' "I mean, you... better not. We took separate quarters and all."

For a wonder, he didn't push it. He patted her shoulder and uncoiled himself, hopping back to the floor. "If you need anything, Clo..."

"I'll call you," she promised.

And she would, and he would answer –

Or, the echo of a dream whispered in the back of her mind, he would die trying.