Jack Du Brul - Charon's landing

“But my dad knew when I was at your house,” Aggie persisted.

They’d walked back to the docks, where a crowd of PEAL activists were clustered around the two large Zodiacs. By their laughter, it seemed that only a few had been arrested and none seemed the worse for the fight. Mercer guessed that the lenience was due to the media’s presence. His impression that they were like a bunch of collegiates out for a good time was reaffirmed. He paused, while he and Aggie were still in the shadows of a storefront, and watched the environmentalists a little more critically. They appeared too relaxed, and something about that niggled at the back of Mercer’s mind.

“Well, there are your friends. I know you’re not going to listen to my advice because you’re too stubborn, but I want you to be careful, all right?”

“Mercer, I-”

“Just be careful.” He turned and vanished into the night so quickly that his absence surprised her.

A moment later she’d rejoined her friends, laughing with them as they recounted their prowess in the fight before boarding the Zodiacs for the brief run out to the Hope . She kept peering into the darkness, hoping to see Mercer watching her, but he was gone.

As the group clambered aboard the rubber boats, another figure was watching them, tucked deeply in the shadows. He languidly massaged his crotch as he watched Aggie ease herself into a Zodiac, her taut body straining against the denim of her jeans as she stood for one instant stretched between the wharf and the boat.

She’s got the backside of a young boy, Abu Alam thought. He touched the lump on his head where the bottle had collided. He couldn’t have his revenge against the man tonight; Kerikov was expecting a report about PEAL’s activities in town, but he now knew the man’s face very well. And once he was out of the way, there was nothing to stop him from discovering if her ass felt as tight as it looked.

The wooden steps slung from the side of the research ship could be lowered from the main deck to water level like a medieval drawbridge. The men and women waited in the Zodiacs with the anticipation of marauding Saxons eager to storm a Norman castle, ready for their party to continue aboard their ship. Aggie went up with them, mindful that the graphite strips on each tread were slicked by a chilly fog. She did not share the high spirits of the other activists.

She was carried up the last few steps by a big Norwegian student nearly ten years her junior who laughed as he set her on the deck with a gallant flourish. His hair was almost as white as his toothy grin. She tried to smile back, but everything suddenly began to feel unreal, as if she shouldn’t be here, as if this was no longer her world.

The feeling of disquiet clung to her as she entered the main salon, grateful for the heat blasting from the ventilators. It was only then that she realized she was still wearing Mercer’s bomber jacket. She brought the collar to her nose and inhaled the rich aroma of worn leather, a trace of his musky aftershave, and the unmistakable scent of the man himself. The smell was pleasing, comforting. She shed the jacket, tossing it over her chair in a quick guilty gesture as if those around her somehow knew what she’d just been feeling.

She felt disconnected from the party that was continuing around her, barely acknowledging the bottle of beer that was put in front of her or the animated chatter of the people. She wondered if she’d been away too long and just needed a little time to reacclimate herself to their boisterous lifestyle. Or had she changed in the month since she’d last been aboard the Hope , when she’d been part of this extended family?

Certainly things in her life had affected her — Burt Manning’s death, her father’s possible connection. And Mercer. She absently fingered the rough texture of his coat, finding the leather scarred and worn like its owner.

She’d felt absolutely powerless when the man in the bar had grabbed her and began to grope. He could have raped her right there and she doubted anyone would have noticed in the confusion. And then, suddenly, Mercer was there, like the hero of the trashy romance novels she’d read as a girl. How he had come to be there she still didn’t know, but she was grateful. Not that she’d shown it. The conflicting emotions he generated were almost too much to take. He attracted her with an irresistible magnetism, yet whenever they were together, he managed to infuriate her with just a few words or even a look.

She wondered if she lashed out at him because of her own insecurities, wanting to build a wall between them. Aggie knew she shouldn’t even be thinking about Mercer in this way. She loved Jan and hoped one day to be his wife. She had no answers, just a vague sense of falling into something much bigger than she could handle.

Aggie lit a cigarette and got up mechanically, ignoring the party and the beer that sat in a clear pool of condensation on the table’s Formica top. Jan hadn’t been aboard the Hope when she’d arrived in Valdez. She knew she should have waited for him to return instead of joining the party. She hadn’t seen him in a month, and should be looking forward to their rendezvous. But she felt hollow, like a fragile shell that would crack with only a slight touch.

She walked blankly down the corridor in the direction of Jan’s large stateroom, cursing herself for her lack of resolve. She’d always known what she’d wanted and always gotten it. But now? God, I hate this, she thought. She knocked timidly on his cabin door and entered without waiting.

Jan sat behind his desk, wearing a heavy sweater despite the warmth of the cabin. It was obvious that he hadn’t been aboard very long, otherwise he would have changed, for he had an aversion to heat. There were papers strewn across his desk, and his head was bowed in concentration over them, a pen poised to strike if needed. He scribbled a furious notation before finally looking up, smiling when he saw Aggie standing at the door, her body partly shielded behind it as if awaiting punishment. He was so beautiful to her.

“Aggie! Oh, my God, I’m so glad to see you.” He came from around the desk, his long arms opening wide, crushing her to him tightly. He tilted her face up to his, pressing his lips to hers. When she didn’t respond, he backed off slightly. “What’s wrong, my darling?”

“Oh, Jan.” Aggie paused, not sure herself what was wrong. “I was so scared tonight. You heard about the fight at the bar.”

“Yes, I was already told. Heinz and Pierre are both in jail until morning on a drunk and disorderly charge. Someone said you were almost molested but some local managed to sneak you out the back door. It must have been terrible.”

“Yes,” Aggie replied simply, relieved that Jan didn’t suspect that there was something else on her mind.

“I wish I’d known you were coming to Alaska early. I would have met you in Anchorage. Why didn’t you call me?” Voerhoven held her at arm’s length, looking deeply into her impossibly green eyes.

“I didn’t know myself. I kind of came here on the spur of the moment.” She didn’t mention the panic that had precipitated her flight from Washington.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re here.” Jan smiled at her, his intentions evident in the huskiness of his voice.

“Please, Jan, not tonight. I know I haven’t seen you for so long, but I just don’t feel right. Clean, I mean. That man…” Her voice trailed off.

“Oh, darling, that’s not what I meant. Well, partially that’s what I meant. But listen, great things are about to happen here. Things that I want you to witness, to be a part of.”

Suddenly Mercer’s warning flashed in her head. “What things, Jan?”