A Day in the Life of Marine Captain Cross before the Zoastra Affair Part Fifteen
Trips to planets never rode fast or smoothly. Atmospheric conditions on every planet had a slight difference in pressure. And time never moved fast. Cross and Newman waited in the back of the shuttle―waiting to land. Major Newman wrung his hands. The man looked nervous.
Cross watched him and wondered. Was he worried about Grace? He should be. Losing one’s wife to the unknown never seemed fair to him. Whoever killed his was never caught. But Cross kept silent. Some things were better left unsaid.
“Where are you from?”
Cross looked up. This line of questioning was new. “We’ve known each other two years, major.”
“And I’ve told you about my life, how I met Grace, how I don’t like gin. But I don’t know your background.”
“Not much to say. I joined the Academy when I was twenty-two.” Cross was not about to tell Major Newman much of anything. He never told anyone. Joining meant he had a chance to shoot every weapon in his arsenal, not relive the memories.
“Grace thought…never mind. Just odd that I don’t know where you’re from.”
“Canada.” Cross felt a need to give in, if telling small details meant building some trust for this trip. Peter’s unending good nature made him one of the few trustworthy men around.
“Canada? That’s all?”
“Yes.” No more of this. Silence would be most welcome.
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