Beka brushed at her nose. Something had tickled her awake. Annoyed, she jerked her head to the side and rubbed her hand over her cold face. She felt the tickle move to her hand. Something was crawling on her.
     She rubbed her face and sat up with a scream. She couldn't find it, but her whole body was itching now, imagining what had crawled across her face in the dark.
     "What?" Jon asked in alarm, groping for the staff.
     She couldn't get the feel of the scratchy, crawling feet off her skin. She stood up and brushed rapidly at her clothes, as tears bathed her cheeks. "Oooh!"
     "What is it?" he demanded as he stood next to her, his head swiveling to find the threat.
     "Something...  something's on me. Please, help me get it off," she said, running her hands through her hair.
     "Here." He rubbed his hands over her hair. "I don't feel anything." He brushed at her back as she wiped her hands across her face, chest, and arms "I think it must be gone now. Did it sting you?"
     "I still feel it crawling on me."
     "I'll check your back again." He brushed at her shoulders and raised her hair to rub the back of her neck. "Nothing. It's gone now, whatever it was. It probably wasn't anything dangerous. Just creepy."
     She stopped waving her hands and took a deep breath. I hate bugs. She shivered again, imagining some alien Earth insect with one hundred eyes and one thousand spindly legs crawling across her face. She looked down at the ground, but it was still too dark to see much beyond blotchy shades of brown and gray. The ground was probably crawling with all kinds of creatures she couldn't see. She wanted to be inside. Anywhere. Where are the buildings? The people? Why is this happening? She wiped her wet eyes with trembling fingers.
     "Are you all right?" She realized he was holding her arm in an effort to calm her. Or to keep her from running madly into the night. She took another deep breath. Okay. It was just a bug. She shivered again.
     "Do you want me to look again? Do you still feel something? What can I do?"
     She was finally calm enough to hear the anxiety in him. Sobered, she turned and looked up at his face. His features were in shadows, but his face was tilted toward her in concern. It was only a bug. It didn’t hurt you. Grab hold of yourself. "I'm...  I'm good now. I'm sorry I panicked. Again."
     She felt his hand loosen on her arm, but he didn't move away. She felt grateful for his nearness, for his empathy. So many men she knew would be laughing at her or disgusted with her tears. She focused on the steady connection to him and took a deep breath.
     "I promise you, I would have done the same thing. Except you'd still hear me screaming."
     She smiled at him and relaxed, knowing she wasn't facing the eerie situation alone. She didn't believe what he was saying, but she appreciated his ability to laugh at himself. Her shaking had stopped.
     He released her arm and said, ruefully, "When I learned there were thirty million different species of insects on Earth, I honestly had to weigh whether coming to the planet was worse than the UPG."
     "Thirty million!"
     "Yeah. Apparently the few we see on Unity are just enough to keep the spacecolony's ecosystem viable. Though I imagine there are many more insects down on the Farm Level than we realize. I guess it's not helping, my telling you all this. Sorry. I was just trying to say I understand why you were upset. Do you think you can get back to sleep?"
     Beka looked again at the dark ground and felt the squeamishness rise in her chest again. Thirty million. "I...  I think I'll just stand here awhile."
     He was silent for a few seconds, then he said, "All right."
     "I don't mean you have to stand here with me. Get some sleep, if you can. I'm good now. I'm just not ready to get back on the ground."
     He didn't move, just continued to stare at her. "I can understand why you don't want to lie on the ground. But you can't just stand here all night."
     As Blueray, she made life and death decisions nearly every day. She knew rebels who had suffered terrible fates at the hands of the UPG. She was embarrassed for letting a little insect get the better of her, but she couldn’t lie back down, yet. "I'll be all right."
     "I know you will. But I was thinking. If I sit against a tree, you can lean against me and keep your head and back from touching the ground."
     What is he saying? "There's no way that'll be comfortable for you. No, I'll be all right in a little while."
     He huffed in frustration.
     The man really doesn't like to be told no.
     He argued, "Well, let's at least try it. If it doesn't work, we can try something else. I don't think either of us is going to get much sleep anytime soon. Come on, try it."
     She hated the idea of him being so uncomfortable just because of her wimpiness. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the ground.
     "I mean... if you'd be okay with it. I just thought...  it might help."
     His tone made it clear he assumed, again, she was hesitating because she was frightened of being that close to him. She examined her feelings more closely. Why doesn't it bother me to think of actually lying against his body? She'd already lain practically on top of him under that log, and she had felt... protected from the guardians searching for them. She studied his face, the shadows made deeper by growing stubble, but she could see his features were in a rigid stoic mask.
     "I think it might be a big help. I just don't want to make it harder on you."
     He looked at her for several moments, then said, "I'll tell you if I can't do it, trust me. We'll try it for a few minutes, all right?"
     "Okay, if you're sure. You'll tell me if I hurt you?"
     "I promise. I have one favor to ask, though. I want to put the jacket between me and the tree. I don't want any creepy-crawlies going down my neck, either."
     She grinned and nodded, glad to hear his tone had lightened.
     He walked to a large tree and sat down. After setting the jacket across the back of his head and shoulders, he angled back against the trunk and held a hand out to her.
     "Here, sit between my legs and lean back. Or you can sit on my legs, if you need to get totally off the ground."
     "No. No, I'll sit on the ground." Her embarrassment was clear in her voice, and she had started to shiver. Maybe this isn't such a good idea. I should go back and lie down, and quit being such a baby. 
     She shivered again and saw the way he held his arms open to steady her as she sat. His strong hands didn't frighten her. She knew he would not grab her or force her. He was simply offering to help her if she needed him to. Awkwardly, she sat on the ground with her back to his chest, her bottom between his thighs. She crossed her arms and tried to relax.
     "Reach up and pull the ends of the jacket around us." His hands lay loosely at her sides, but his voice sounded as nervous as she felt.
     She did as he asked, and held the edges as close as possible across her chest. She could feel the solid warmth of his body at her back. His breath warmed the top of her head. Slowly, she let the tension ease and relaxed against him.
     He had invited her to lie against him just because she was panicky about unseen things crawling on her. He wasn't acting the hero or the martyr, as most men she knew would have been. He wasn't trying to manipulate her into feeling obligated to him, nor was he undermining her strength. So, he’s not in any of those categories. He was simply trying to do what he could to make this ordeal easier for her. He had been doing that from the beginning, before he knew anything about her. That, too, was unlike any other man she knew. My categories simply don’t apply to this man. And, somehow, they don’t seem necessary.
     She let her body relax completely against his broad, warm chest, and closed her eyes. She hadn't found comfort in a man's arms in a long time. She could feel a rumble in his chest as he murmured something she wasn't meant to hear, and she smiled. Though she still found his self-talk odd, she also found it soothing as she drifted to sleep.
     She was startled awake by a movement at her back. An instant later, she recognized Jon's groan. She sat up straight and turned her head toward him.
     He jerked his body away from the tree trunk and groaned again. "Sorry. Got a cramp. Need to sit up."
     She scooted forward until she could get onto her knees, then stood. The frigid air assaulted her immediately, and she hugged herself as she looked down at him. He was obviously in pain. He's done enough. More than enough.
     "Do you need help getting up?"
     He didn't answer her as he rolled onto his hands and knees. She could hear the catch in his voice when he finally said, "No. I'm good."
     If he felt the need to lie to her about being in pain, she knew he would not appreciate her fussing over him. "I'm feeling all right, now. I'm going back to where we were."
     "Be there in a sec," he muttered, still on his hands and knees.
     She turned and walked toward the torn chemise, still on the ground where they had lain. She shook it out and replaced it. Her heart was pounding as she lay down on her side, putting her cheek on the thin fabric. I will not do that again. He might be bigger and stronger and braver, but I am not a child.
     And he's still flesh and blood.
     She felt the jacket placed across her arm and side. She heard him hiss in pain as he moved to the ground, then felt the warmth of his side against her back. "Sorry," he mumbled.
     She turned toward him. He obviously needed to lie flat on his back. His arms were crossed at his chest.
     "No, it helped. Thank you." She didn't know what else to say, so she moved her arm to rest on top of his and squeezed, hoping to give him some sign of her gratitude, some small comfort. Yes, he's done more than enough. Tomorrow, we'll find a way for me to get back to Unity. In the meantime, I will not let him sacrifice his own comfort for mine, not ever again. She pulled the jacket so it covered them both, and closed her eyes.

 

*****

 

     Radolf Seras stroked the silver wing on his stiff uniform collar as he studied the reports scrolling on the vid embedded in his desk.
     About kuffin time. He cursed at the slow communications sent from the spaceport on Earth. Typical mudworld inefficiency. As a pilot, he understood enough space science to assume the causes – Unity revolved around the Earth co-orbital with its moon while the archipelago of asteroids revolved around Unity, not to mention the planet’s magnetosphere and the probable lack of technology brought from the spacecolony to the planet. The UPG high command had never made finding a solution to the comm issues a priority, since few from Unity ever traveled to the primitive planet at the center of its orbit. But there were now four UPG spaceports on Earth, and Seras thought that should be enough reason to improve the sattlecast delays. Two years ago, there had been a prison there to hold Freestanders. The poor communication between the prison and Unity was probably one of the reasons the prison had been abandoned. Without doubt, it had delayed recapturing the prisoners who had escaped over the three years it had been in existence.
     Jon Castil might have traveled to the planet to meet some of the prisoners still running free there. Fluxin traitors, all of them. His administrative aide hadn’t located any communications between Castil and any of the former prisoners or anyone on Earth. Does the whoreson have the skills to hide his comms?
     According to the sattlecast from his Guardians at the spaceport, they had completed the search of the airship Castil had abandoned on Earth. He had left behind his IDpak, the nano-pulse weapon he used to incapacitate the Guardians who tried to arrest him on the Warehouse Level, his portable locator, some moneychips, all of which would have helped him if he planned to hide on Earth.
     Why would he abandon the ship on that primitive road and enter the forest, leaving behind his supplies? Whatever the reason, it should make him easier to find.
     He flicked his fingers to open the next reports. The tech team had scrubbed the ship’s AIC history, including the quantum databases, but found no evidence of why Castil went down to the planet or whom he might have intended to meet there. There were a few spacestation designs and images of an elderly couple stored in the memory, but all from years ago. 
     Trackers had flown multiple times over the forest where he was last seen, but their sensors had only found wild animals. A few native farmers could be seen working crops on the outskirts of the forest, but no sign of anyone hiding. Blackhole’s breath, where did the traitor go?
     The TraceAI analysis revealed evidence of a second person in the airship. Now that’s interesting. A woman. Even more interesting. They’d identified her as Rebeka Patin. The name was familiar. He thought she might be one of those vacuous women who threw parties for the upper levels. He’d never actually met her, but he’d seen her a few times. Pretty enough, brunette, a little old for my taste, maybe 30. There was no way to know when she’d actually been on Castil’s airship. She might have been entertaining him before his escape to Earth. I doubt she’ll know much, but it won’t hurt to talk to her.
     He pressed the button at the edge of his steel desk. His administrative aide entered, holding his datatab.
     “Find a woman named Rebeka Patin. She probably lives on the Restricted Level. I want to see her here in HQ.”
     The junior officer entered information on his tablet and started its speech capture.
     “I want you to do more research on the UPG prison that was on Earth. I want the names of the Freestanders who escaped during all three years it existed. Find current locations on as many of those terrorists as you can, but get that report to me by first bells tomorrow.”
     The younger man nodded as he continued pressing pads to organize the recordings. 
     “Include the names of the senior and junior officers posted there, as well. Don’t need to know the adjuncts for now.
     “Then contact the Earth spaceport nearest to where Jon Castil abandoned his ship. I want a squad to interview the locals in all the farms near the forest. Someone must have seen him, and I want to know what they’ve seen. Whatever it takes, make that clear. Those barbarians might even be hiding him. Guardians are also to watch for signs of any of the escaped Freestanders on the farms.”
     The aide looked up from his tablet. At Seras’s nod, the lieutenant raised his right hand to the opposite shoulder, turned and left the office.
     Castil is still, surely, somewhere on Earth. Whatever he stole must be extremely valuable to be Priority One. If my men don’t find him soon, I’ll need to fly down to the mudball surface, myself. That would mean postponing the trip to my asteroid again, and the sex workers are already at the villadome waiting. Flux it all!