While she lay dying by Paula Sanders

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While She Lay Dying (3/6)
by Paula Sanders
copyright 1995

John Danziger bent over the dunerail, checking the solar collectors. The vehicles had always been a problem, and he was constantly fixing them. They were not meant for this kind of long haul. He did not know how much more of this journey they could take. He did not know how much more of this journey any of them could take. This planet could easily destroy everything and it did not seem to care what the thing it destroyed might mean to them.

He and True had managed to calm Uly down and help him to realize that they had to leave this valley. At least, they thought they had convinced him. Uly was becoming so hard to read. He no longer the sweet, innocent boy he had been when they landed. The transformation the Terrians had begun in the boy had changed him, greatly and that fact was becoming more and more apparent every day. After making sure that Uly was going to be all right, John had sent the children off to bed, leaving Yale to watch over them.

Out of the corner of his eye Danziger saw Walman approaching. The other man sidled up to the dunerail, looking it over.

"Need any help?" Walman asked.
"No, I can handle it," John told him, too harshly. "Hey." Walman's hands went up defensively. "I just thought you might need an extra hand."

Stepping around to the other side of the dunerail, Walman eyed John in a way that made the mechanic nervous.

Danziger could feel himself bristling and he could not seem to control it. He wished Walman would just turn around a leave him alone. It was hard enough keeping up the appearance of composure and hopefulness without someone hanging over his shoulder everywhere he went. He did not know how Adair had ever done it. It was driving him insane.

Walman's gaze shifted to Bennett's ship, and John's followed it.

Walman made a short nervous laugh and said, "I keep expecting her to come marchin' down here into camp and start kickin' our butts into action."

Danziger stared at Walman in stunned silence. Then, deliberately turned away, back to his work.

"This must be hard on you, man." Walman said, sympathetically. "Suddenly, all the responsibility you two used to share is all dumped in your lap. I mean you two made a great team. One person can't lead this ragtag group. Though, Devon sure tried."

"Walman," Danziger barked. "Would you just get out of my hair."

"All right, I'm leaving," Walman said and turned around. John watched him go, a sinking feeling began in him. He should not have treated his friend that way. He dragged his hands through his hair. *God, Adair we need you back.*

He shook himself out of his grief and snatched up a tool. Danziger tried to work, but his attention kept straying, to Devon. He leaned on the rail and took a swig from his thermos, looking up the hill, to where the starship was moored. With the lights shining on it, it stood out like an ancient light house from Earth legend; those towers which stood sentinel on shore, shining a beacon to lead the seafarers safely home. The gleaming metal of the ship drew his eyes as those lighthouses had drawn sailors centuries ago.

"Ah, hell," he growled. He glanced over his shoulder to see that no one would see him as he left camp and climbed the hill to the ship.

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Yale stood outside John Danziger's tent, scanning the camp for the mechanic. It had been a good fifteen minutes since Danziger had left the children with him, while he checked on the dunerail. Uly and True were very quiet when her father had brought them back to camp, both children's eyes puffy and bloodshot. Uly was suffering greatly, though he did not seem to be accepting the truth, that his mother might die. True on the other hand was convinced that Devon would never get better. Yale wondered if the little girl was associating the loss of Devon with the loss of a mother she had never known. Normally, such an optimistic girl she could not be convinced that Devon was going to recover. Yale grieved with them.

With the children now safely tucked into their beds and fast asleep, Yale's concern shifted to the absent Danziger. The man was, conspicuously, not at the dunerail and nowhere in sight. Yale saw that Baines was on watch and approached him.

"Baines, have you seen Danziger?" Yale asked. "Isn't he working on the dunerail?" Baines asked. "No," Yale answered. Baines turned to look and Yale saw his mouth fall open when he saw no Danziger where there had been only moments before. Yale could think of many things to say to the young man but he decided not to reprimand. As he gazed around the camp his eyes fell on the starship and he knew where John had gone. He also knew that it was best to keep this fact quiet. Needing privacy, John had slipped away from camp, hoping no one would miss him.

"Should I alert camp?" Baines asked. Yale laid a quieting hand on his shoulder. "I don't think we need to worry the group about this," he said, then returned to the tent and the two sleeping children.

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It was dark inside Bennett's ship, but the glow of the instrument panels let Danziger see enough to know he was not going to bump into anything. He did not know quite why he was here. An inner voice was scolding, calling him names, telling him to turn around, he was being silly. But he kept moving forward, through the control room and to the cold-sleep crypt. The only light on in the room was the light inside the cryotube where Devon stood, wrapped in a white robe. She looked different. Like some imaginary, unattainable object; not like the woman who had spent the last six months driving him nuts. She was frozen. There was no measure of time for her now, but she had known what had happened to her. She had been conscious, barely, when they had put her in the tube. Seeing her now, he wondered if she was dreaming or if she was even there anymore.

When Elle had died, he had known the minute that she had left. He was holding her head, begging her to breath, to come back to him. Suddenly, the light, the spark had left her, just like that. She was just an empty shell. And he had not had the chance to say goodbye to her. It was happening all over again. Devon, being the crazy bitch that she was, had kept her illness from them. She had let herself die while she watched them recover.

"Dammit, Adair!" he shouted at the sleeping woman. "Everyone else always comes first with you, don't they? Don't you ever think of yourself? You always have to do things your way, don't you. No matter what the cost." Abruptly, he turned his back on her, covering his mouth, regretting the out burst, trying to contain his anger and fear.

"Well, you've really done it this time, lady," he said, in hushed tones, still turned away from her, staring at the floor.

He felt hot tears sting his eyes and began to circle the room, trying to calm down, but the pacing only seemed to increase his anxiety.

He stopped, standing across the room and stared at her again, through the frosted glass.

"This can't be the end," he told her. "You have to get to New Pacifica. This was your mission. You dragged us all here. You have to see it through," he ordered. A faint smile touched his lips. "Besides, it wouldn't be the same without you there to harass me."

Danziger's eyes suddenly hit on Uly's walking stick, which hung beside Devon's tube, and it was as if someone had just slammed him against the wall. His breath came quick and he felt the tears surface, again.

"Why me?" he asked her. "Uly needs you. Not me. You. We were pals before, but now he barely even talks to me. You should have asked Yale to look after your kid, he's doing a much better job than I am, anyway.

"We're moving on to New Pacifica, tomorrow. I know you'd tell me that's exactly what you'd want us to do. That's why we're doing it. I can still hear you barkin' orders at me as if you were right there in front of me, chin up, eyes daring me to argue with you. We're goin' so you can shut up, now. But I can't imagine arriving at New Pacifica without you. None of us can. That's probably why no one wants to budge. Maybe. I don't know. I can't get them to do anything. Not like you could. We need you, Devon," he told her. "I need you," he added, honestly.

He stood for what seemed like forever, just looking at her. If he could only touch her, just once more. Physical contact was very important to him. It made the person seem more real, and gave him the feeling that he was passing his feelings on to them just by touch. But Devon always seemed to shy away from his touch. Now she was locked in a glass box out of his reach, and he could do nothing to help her.

*Just once more,* he thought, just to hold her hand, touch her face. John stepped forward, forcing himself to cross the room. He brought his forehead to rest against the cold glass, laying one hand flat over its surface, near her face.

"Dammit, Devon," he whispered. "Hell if I know why, but I love you. And I won't let you go this easily." He leaned back, gazing up at her. This close he could see her face clearly and she did not look peaceful as he had expected. She looked troubled.

He was struck by the memory of the beach more than 6,000 kilometers behind them. He had walked on that beach, Devon beside him, enjoying the feel of the sand under her bare feet.

"We'll get you out of there, Devon. And we'll walk on the beach at New Pacifica, together."

Devon Adair dreamed; strange fragmented dreams.

She was on a beach, sunlight glared. Uly sprang up from the earth, an awkward, lanky youth, of maybe fourteen years. True, now a beautiful young lady, rose up beside him. They faced each other, clasped hands, turned and smiled at her, then disappeared. Julia and Alonzo coalesced before her. Julia held in her arms a tiny newborn. Alonzo hovered around her, a nervous first time father. Bess Martin suddenly appeared, her husband Morgan behind her, a toddler on her hip, smiling as always. Yale appeared behind Bess and gestured for Devon to join him. She approached, reaching out to him. With a jolt the scene changed.

A dizzying sensation accompanied her as she circled around taking in a simple room. Light flared, washing out the colors. She took stock of the sparse furnishings; a dining table, a couch, the usual equipment. A door lead off into another room. She pushed it open. There she found a man and a woman curled up on a double bed, arms and legs wrapped around each other. They looked almost like one being. Moving closer she saw a dark head and a mop of curly, blond hair.

"Danziger," she whispered, recognizing the profile. The woman shifted and Devon was confronted with her own face. She stumbled backwards and almost fell against the dresser when, abruptly, the scene changed again.

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Sometime later, as Yale was succumbing to sleep, he heard the rustle of the tent flap. He opened his eyes to see John Danziger enter. John went straight to his daughter, tucked the covers up under her chin and dropped a kiss on her forehead. Yale shifted and cleared his throat to let the other man know he was awake. John jumped and spun around landing on his rump.

"I am sorry," Yale apologized.
"It's all right," John said, righting himself. "Was there a problem with the dunerail? You were gone a long time for it to be nothing," Yale queried. John was a private man but Yale thought he might need to talk. And he suspected that if John would open up to anyone, it would be to him; everyone else did.

"Uh, no, everything's fine," John answered, carefully. Yale nodded, thinking, maybe it was best to let it drop. "How's Uly?" Danziger asked, his gaze lingering on the small boy.

"I don't really know," Yale admitted. "Devon was everything to him."

Yale could feel the tears resurfacing. Devon was more than just his former employer. She was like a daughter to him. He had acted as her father for so long, even though her real father had only just died when they left the stations. He had always expected, like most parents, to be the first to die. *NO!* he barked at himself. She was not dead. Julia would find a cure for this disease and they would all be together again.

John looked like he had been through hell. His face was pale, there were dark circles under his eyes, and his hands seemed to be shaking. Sudden anger, rose up inside Yale at Devon and John. They had wasted so much time arguing and avoiding their true feeling and now there might not be anymore time left. He could at least understand Devon's reasoning. She had such difficulty trusting anyone. After Devon had started working to get the Eden Project going her friends had quickly deserted her, either out of fear for their own status or because they thought she was crazy. Every so called friend she had had since then had been bought. For Devon, the concept of friendship had come to be based on what she could do for or how well she paid the person. She never let herself get close to anyone. There were so many people she felt she could not trust that it was easier for her to keep her distance.

There had been a man in her life, once. He was an architect who worked for her father. Her father had arranged it, thinking they would be a good match, socially. They had lived together for two years before she had found out that he was cheating on her. She had been so angered by her own stupidity and his audacity that she had thrown him out. Then she found out she was pregnant. She would not tell the father, knowing he would not want the child and she did not want him involved. So, she kept the pregnancy to herself. And as the months went by she became more and more excited about the prospect of having a child. She badly wanted a child, and had so much love to give. It had always been her dream to have a happy marriage, like her parents had and children she could dote on. That was not to be, though she did have Uly and Yale; they were her family. They were all Devon had needed for so long.

Then they had left the stations and been stranded on this planet. Devon had been forced to rely on and trust the people around her to survive. John was the first person she truly trusted. With John, she had her chance at the life she had secretly dreamed of and she had turned her back on it, because it terrified her.

As for Danziger, he still carried around a certain amount of animosity towards the privileged class, of which Devon was a member. At first, he had seen her as someone who had been handed everything in her life, never had to work for anything. Yale had tried to help John to see Devon as she truly was; an intelligent, strong, independent, yet vulnerable and compassionate woman. Slowly, their differences were fading away, as they all came to be on equal footing on this planet. But still there were those ingrained hatreds and the fear that she looked down her nose at him. They still understood so little about each other. But it was obvious to Yale that they had come to care about and rely on each other. Because of this he felt that they could overcome any differences they had.

Of course, Danziger was also still suffering the pain of his loss of True's mother and the grief he had buried so deeply. He did not want to open himself up to the possibility of being hurt like that again. But, he had been hurt like that again. Though, he had never acknowledged his feelings for Devon that did not diminish them at all. In fact, it probably hurt him more because he had never had the chance to tell Devon he loved her.

"John, are you all right?" Yale asked, seeing John rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, obviously trying to cover. "I really should know better than to work on the vehicles at night. It's hard on the eyes." Yale was feeling more than a little frustrated, but he would let the matter drop. Obviously, John had dealt with things, privately, and he had to respect that.

"Thanks for looking after the kids for me," John said, as he sat down on his cot, next to True.

"No problem," Yale said. "Um, do you mind if I stay here with Uly, tonight?"

"Of course not," John answered. Danziger stretched out on his cot and True snuggled closer to her father's warmth.

He shut his eyes tightly on the tears that threatened. Exhaustion won over disquiet and he was soon sound asleep.

End part 3

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