Fallout (11 page)

Derek looked down at his dosimeter. “I’m thinking.”

Chapter 7

D
EREK
spent two hours running diagnostics on Number Five, switching out circuits, cleaning and oiling gears, and generally doing everything he could to avoid having to go find Lyrica and Sambit while they argued with Tucker. He couldn’t follow the conversation, but he heard raised voices now and then, enough to let him know they were indeed arguing.

When he finished with Number Five, he opened a browser and searched for information on radiation sickness. Not that he thought they were in any immediate danger, since their dosimeters measured how much radiation exposure they’d had since they arrived and they hadn’t sounded any alarms, but he wanted to know what to watch for just in case. He read one article and shut the browser, sick to his stomach at everything he’d seen. Nausea, vomiting, headaches, fever, dizziness, cognitive impairment.

Death.

He’d known that before he came. He remembered reading about Hiroshima in his history classes and the effects, both immediate and lingering, of the bombs dropped there and in Nagasaki. He just hadn’t thought about it in connection with himself. Not really.

He ought to call his mother, just in case. He couldn’t tell her where he was or what he was doing, but he could tell her he loved her so that if he didn’t make it, they’d be the last words he said to her. “Come here, Fido,” he called, needing the reassurance of the dog’s company.

Fido stood up from where he’d been sleeping just beyond Derek’s reach and padded closer, laying his head on Derek’s lap. Derek rested his forehead against Fido’s shoulder and stroked the solid body. He couldn’t die. He had to take care of Fido, radiation sickness be damned. He’d simply have to dodge that bullet one way or another.

“That’s a very comforting sight.”

Derek looked up from Fido’s side to see Sambit at the entrance to the room where he was working. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, and the corners of his mouth were tight. “What did Tucker say?”

“He ranted for a while about exceeding our authority by taking Number Five out without his permission,” Sambit began.

“Fuck that,” Derek said. “Number Five answers to me, and I don’t answer to him.”

“He thinks you do,” Sambit said with a sigh. “When he was done with that tirade, he started in on the readings and the conclusions we drew based on them. He challenged the accuracy of them, although Lyrica shot that down pretty quickly by citing the readings on our Geiger counters when we went outside yesterday. Then he blew off the suggestion that the system was compromised. He has one goal, as far as I can tell. To get the plant running again.”

“That would be fine if it weren’t dangerous,” Derek said. “Can’t he focus on getting the other two running again and let this one close?”

“You’d think so,” Sambit said, rubbing his temples.

“Is your head bothering you?” Derek asked sharply, the descriptions he’d read too fresh in his brain to ignore the signs.

“It’s just stress from dealing with Tucker.”

“Maybe it is, but headaches are also a sign of radiation sickness,” Derek said, his stomach churning at the thought of Sambit coming down with the awful symptoms he’d read about.

“It is, but I’m not nauseated, and that precedes the headaches,” Sambit said.

“Are you sure?” Derek said. “I mean, I know it usually does, but isn’t it possible that you skipped a step?”

“I suppose it’s possible,” Sambit said, “but my dosimeter readings aren’t anywhere near the levels they would need to be for the radiation to make me sick.”

“Yes, but everyone is different. It makes sense that people would react differently. Do we need to call a doctor?”

“Derek, I’m fine,” Sambit said. “I’ll take an Advil and lie down in a quiet, dark room for an hour or two, and I’ll be all better.”

Derek hesitated for a moment, but the need to help outweighed the fear of being refused. “I could rub your shoulders for you if you think it would help. If it’s really tension and not radiation, it might help you relax.”

“If you don’t mind,” Sambit said. “Usually I would try meditation or some stretches, but I usually get to that point before my headache gets this bad. I’m not sure mind over matter will be very successful when my mind hurts too much to concentrate.”

“Take off your shirt,” Derek directed, “the outer one at least. You can leave your undershirt if you’d be more comfortable.”

Sambit shook his head, unbuttoning the oxford shirt he wore and tossing it aside before stripping off his undershirt. Derek had seen him without the outer shirt yesterday, and he’d felt his own muscles strain as they practiced yoga that morning, barely able to hold some of the strength poses that Sambit did with ease, so he knew Sambit had to have some muscle, but that didn’t prepare him for the sheer beauty of the bare torso. His chest, not darkened by the sun, was closer to the color of teak than mahogany, with a patch of dark hair in a triangle across it, narrowing to a thin band that arrowed down into the waistband of his trousers. He could have posed for any of Derek’s magazines in a heartbeat.

“Lie down,” Derek suggested. “You’ll be more comfortable, and if you fall asleep, you can stay there instead of having to move later.”

“Let me take some Advil and then I will,” Sambit said. Derek watched as Sambit dug in his bag and fished out the analgesic. He swallowed it dry and stretched out on the cot, twisting one way and then the other as he tried to get settled. Derek told himself to stop being ridiculous as his mouth watered at the sight. Sambit may have been lying down, but he wasn’t lying down
for
Derek, not in that sense. He was getting ready for a backrub intended to ease a tension headache. Nothing more.

So why did it feel like so much more?

Derek closed one hand around the back of Sambit’s neck, kneading the tight muscles with firm pressure. Sambit’s skin was warm beneath the pads of Derek’s fingers, the fine hairs on the nape of his neck creating an erotic friction against Derek’s skin despite his determination to keep this friendly, nothing more. He took a deep breath, smelling the spicy hint of days-old cologne beneath the sweat on both their bodies, and it added to the growing sense of intimacy. Ordering himself to concentrate on the matter at hand and not on all the lascivious things he’d do if the situation—and the man—were different, he moved his hand down to Sambit’s shoulder, his other hand joining the first to work at releasing the tension in the tight muscles. Sambit might be gay after all, and he might even be willing to give Derek a chance in this arena, but a relationship couldn’t work between them, and Sambit wasn’t the type for a fling. Derek might be more adrift than he’d felt in years where another man was concerned, but he didn’t think he’d lost all judgment about his potential partners.

“You feel awfully warm,” Derek said as he continued the massage. “Are you sure you aren’t feverish?”

“There are other reasons besides a fever to have heated skin,” Sambit said softly, his eyes closed and his face composed so that Derek didn’t know how to interpret that. He knew how he’d
like
to interpret it, but Sambit couldn’t be flirting with him in earnest. Could he? “My normal body temperature is about a degree above everyone else’s. No one’s ever been able to figure out why, but I always feel like I have a low-grade fever when that’s just the way I am.”

That shot down the flirting idea.

“Okay, just checking,” Derek said in a strangled voice. “Fever is another sign of radiation sickness.”

“Derek, I teach future nuclear engineers,” Sambit said. “We drum the symptoms of radiation sickness—and the need to pay attention to those symptoms—into them from the very beginning, and we don’t let up until they leave us four to six years later. I promise I’m paying attention, but I know my own body, and this is a tension headache, probably coupled with sinus pain from the changing weather and the humidity. I feel feverish because it’s hot and because my skin is always warm to the touch, even when it’s cold outside. I’m not nauseated, and I haven’t had anywhere near a dangerous dose of radiation. Now stop fretting and either finish the massage or let me go to sleep.”

“I ought to leave you to deal with the headache by yourself,” Derek huffed, but he didn’t move away, his hands continuing the massage farther down Sambit’s back. He pressed a little harder along Sambit’s spine, listening to the joints pop at the compression.

Sambit gasped softly and then sighed. “Oh, that feels good. I’ve had a cramp there all day that I couldn’t get rid of.”

“Glad I could help,” Derek said. “Anywhere else in particular, or should I just keep going?”

“Just keep going,” Sambit said. “It feels really good.”

“I dated a masseur at one point,” Derek explained. “He gave me some tips after the first disaster of a backrub I gave him. I’m not a professional, but I can generally make my victim feel pretty relaxed.”

“Your victim?” Sambit asked, amused.

“Well, what else should I call you?” Derek replied. “I’m not a pro, so you aren’t a client or a patient. You aren’t my lover, even if that’s who I usually use my skills on. I couldn’t think of anything else.”

“I see your point,” Sambit said after a moment’s silence. “Victim it is.”

Derek kneaded his way back up Sambit’s spine to his shoulders again, focusing a little more on Sambit’s trapezius muscles and neck. “There,” he said finally. “All better?”

Sambit rolled onto his back, his eyes even darker than usual—not that Derek had noticed or anything—and stared up at Derek. “Much better, thank you.”

Derek focused diligently on Sambit’s face rather than letting his eyes wander lower over the rest of Sambit’s body, so it caught him off guard when Sambit slid his hand around Derek’s and held on tight.

“What?” Derek asked, not sure why Sambit had such a grip on him.

Sambit didn’t reply, his eyes searching Derek’s face as if looking for something, but Derek had no idea what, and the intensity of Sambit’s gaze made him nervous. “Did I break out in zits or something?”

Sambit hushed him softly, his grip remaining firm. The urge to pull away and run grew nearly irresistible for Derek, but Sambit’s hand steadied him, and so he sat there, trapped by the simple touch and powerful gaze.

“I wish we’d met in different circumstances,” Sambit said finally.

“Why’s that?” Derek asked.

“Because if we had, you never would have given me the time of day.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Derek asked.

“It means you make me want impossible things,” Sambit said, sitting up with a sigh. “If we’d met elsewhere, professionally or socially, you would have dismissed me as you did initially, and that would have been the end of it for both of us.”

“What do I make you want?” Derek asked, his heart in his throat.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sambit said. “I can’t have them even if you were willing to offer them to me. Thank you for the massage. Should I wake you up for yoga in the morning?”

“Yes,” Derek said, thoughts whirling out of control as he tried to make sense of their conversation. “I guess… I guess I should let you get some sleep. Feel better.”

“Thank you again.”

Derek walked out of the room feeling more than a little confused, so he did what he always did when people got to be more than he could handle. He worked on robots. He’d already done all the maintenance he needed to do on Number Five, so he scrounged in his spare parts and started assembling additions for the commercially available robot Tucker had told them that morning would be delivered the next day. It wouldn’t be Number Five, but Derek figured he could juice it up a little so it would be able to do some of the grunt work. He could save Number Five for the fine stuff and maybe prevent a little wear and tear in the process. He’d built the robot to be used, but this was rougher work than he’d imagined when he was designing the specs.

As he worked, Fido came in and rested his head on Derek’s leg. “You need to go outside, boy?” he asked. “Let me finish this arm and then we’ll go. We still can’t stay outside long. I’m sorry. I know you need a good run, but it’s not safe out there. You can do your business, though.”

Fido just sat there patiently as Derek finished the work he was doing. Finally satisfied the arm would function as it was supposed to, Derek set it aside. “Let’s go, Fido.”

Checking only to make sure his dosimeter was on his belt, Derek opened the door and let Fido bound outside. Derek stayed closer to the door, leaning against the wall of the building and staring up at the stars overhead. The remnants of the hurricane had passed, leaving the sky crystal clear, and with the power out for hundreds of miles around, there was no light pollution to block Derek’s view of the stars. Even an hour after the sun had set, it was still hot and muggy, but the smell of smoke had faded now that they had the reactor under control. If they could figure out the radiation leak, they might get out of here in a few days.

As much as the thought of everything that could go wrong made Derek want to be as far away from here as possible, he didn’t want the days to pass too quickly. His ramblings turned to the cause of that desire: Sambit. Prim, proper, flexible, flirtatious, aggravating, attractive Sambit.