Ernest nodded. "Ok, Cap. Course is plotted and laid into the helm. Just keep an eye on it now and again."
Vasily followed them out with a handshake and a nod. “Safe voyage, Captain, and best wishes on your new career.”
“Thank you, Vasily. Happy landings to you, too.”
The three of them followed the ratings through the locks.
Gunderson turned to his friend. “Thanks, Smitty.”
“I couldn't leave you out here to die, Gunnie. Whatever else I may be, I'm no killer, and I didn't have to argue very hard to convince the others to go along with me.”
Gunderson smiled. “Well, I'm still grateful. And thanks for taking this unwholesome lot home for me.” He nodded at the open lock.
“You got enough volatiles now? I can spare you a bit more.”
Gunderson shook his head. “No, we're good now. Just don't be late with the next shipments and make sure you get that order filled in Dree for the stuff I'll need to get by out here.”
“Oh, we’ll get it taken care of, don’t worry. Just remember, it's likely to be over a month before the next ship gets back here. I think you’ll find plenty to keep you busy in the mean time.”
“Yeah, I suppose I will,” Gunderson said, running a hand over his face.
With that Smitty headed for the lock. “Well, in that case, I better get movin’. Sooner started, sooner finished.”
“Hey, wait,” Gunderson said. “You’re short one.”
“No, he’s right,” Nancy Gaston's voice came from the passageway as she joined the two men.
“Nance?” Gunderson said. “Where’s your gear?”
She gave him a patient look. “In my stateroom, where else would it be?”
“But you can’t stay here!”
She crossed to stand very close to him. “Why? Don’t you want me to stay?”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere. We’re going to be stuck here for a very long time. It’s dangerous...” Gunderson started with a full head of steam but the longer he talked, the more she smiled. Eventually he found himself lost in that smile.
“And your point would be what?” she asked, her voice soft and low, her breath warm against his face.
Gunderson stared at her for several long moments without saying a word.
She smiled at him. “I'm staying.”
“You sure, Nancy? There’s plenty of room,” Smitty said.
“Thanks, Smitty, but somebody has to stay and keep this grumble puss in line.”
Gunderson’s brain clicked into gear at that point and he rounded on his friend. “Wait! You knew she was staying?” He turned back to Nancy. “But don't you want to go home?” he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Nancy leaned against him and cocked her head to look at his bandaged eye. She reached out with her right hand and stroked his brow and cheek. “I am home, you great galoot. Where else would I be?”
“But--”
“Hush. Somebody has to be here to stuff you into the auto-doc when you screw up again.”
Smitty cleared his throat loudly. “Okay, then. I think I hear my bridge calling. I'll just get out of the way here.”
Gunderson turned and clasped hands with his friend one last time. “Safe voyage, Smitty. Come back and see me--”
Nancy coughed.
“That is, come back and see us soon.”
Smitty chuckled and looked at Nancy then back at Gunderson. “Good luck, old man. I think you're gonna need it.” He turned and walked briskly across the locks and reached for the mechanism on his side.
“Hey? What are you gonna call the place?” He called back while the big doors began to close.
“What am I gonna call what?” Gunderson shouted back.
“The place! When you get set up, what'll you call it?”
Gunderson shrugged. “No idea. We’ll think of something by the time you get back.”
Nancy laughed and leaned down to shout around the slow moving door. “We're gonna call it Odin's Outpost!”
Smitty grinned and gave them a thumb’s up as the locks clamped down.
Gunderson stood there for a moment, then pulled the docking clamp override clear and watched out the port as the Virginia Deere slipped backwards into the Deep Dark. He turned to find Nancy leaning against the bulkhead, arms crossed in front of her. Her mouth curled in a smile that warmed Gunderson in a way he hadn’t been expecting.
“Well, now what?” he asked her.
She snickered. “You’re the captain, Captain, but I’d suggest kicking that autopilot into gear so we can get on station. It’s going to be a slow trip as it is.”
He nodded but made no move toward the passageway. “We should have plenty of food, water, and air for two of us.”
“Yeah. I made sure of that. I even traded Smitty some of those beefalo steaks for some fresh stores and a few cases of that horrible beer.”
Gunderson laughed. “The food, I understand, but what’d you want the beer for? Planning on gettin’ me drunk and takin’ advantage of me?” He continued chuckling until he saw the look on her face.
“Well,” she said, “kinda.” A flush of red crept up her neck, but she didn’t look away.
Something in Gunderson melted at that moment, revealing a truth that he hadn’t dared admit, even to himself.
“You won’t need the beer,” he said.
Nathan Lowell, A Light In The Dark (Tales of the Deep Dark)
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