Higher Ground Read online

  He put the Link down with the message still open on the screen, enjoying glancing down to see that little x as he worked on his survey results for the quarterlies. He drank his coffee; he worked; he kept glancing at the Link. Silly of him. They’d arranged their date. Adam had no reason to send him another message. But every time it chimed with another notification, he hoped it might be Adam, with another x after his name. Every time he saw that x, he thought again of the kiss last night.

  Would there be more of those tonight? And perhaps… Well, he should try not to expect too much or rush into anything. People were always telling him not to be so eager, so impatient. But surely any sane person would be both eager and impatient to take Adam Gray to bed.

  The morning wore on too slowly for Zach, who was desperate for the day to be over. Every time he glanced at the clock, he recalculated in his head how long it was until 19:00 and chided himself for acting like a schoolgirl. What next? Would he start doodling hearts with both their names inside them? Lunchtime approached, and he thought of going to the cafeteria and “running into” Adam, but he decided to stay here in the lab. Adam probably ate with a group of friends or colleagues. Anyway, the test results about the earthquake called to him. Since they were a personal project, he shouldn’t use any more department time to work on them. He’d eat at his desk and check them.

  By the time his lunch break ended, he was scowling at the screen, absently polishing off the last of a candy bar. These results couldn’t be right. Zach glanced at the clock. He should go back to work on the reports. But he left them to one side and kept working on the earthquake project. He just had to double-check the results. He’d obviously made a mistake.

  An hour later, he hadn’t found a mistake—which didn’t mean he hadn’t made one. But he needed to get on with the reports. Professor Phillips would have his ass—and not in a good way—if they weren’t ready to send with the Institute’s quarterly reports for the Terraforming Authority. The Authority had to make plans to guide the development of the planet going forward. Right now, Arius was the only town, and a few dozen people lived at two tiny outposts elsewhere on Ethris, but the planet was close to being ready for mass colonization, and the Institute had to report back to the Terraforming Authority where to start developing for the first wave of settlers. Zach’s work would feed into that decision, and he had to finish it.

  But the results from the earthquake project worried him. They were probably nothing. Errors. But if they weren’t… He started a message to a colleague only a little senior to himself, who’d been quite friendly since he arrived.

  Dr. Palmer, I know you’re busy, but can you take a look at the attached results when you have time? I’m sure I’ve made an error somewhere.

  He stopped, hating writing that. He didn’t make many errors, and when he did, he always spotted them quickly when checking his results. The fact he hadn’t found one this time worried him. Maybe he was distracted from not getting enough sleep and from imagining kissing every one of Adam’s freckles. He smiled. That was a possibility.

  If you could review them and see if you can spot what I’ve done wrong, I’d be very grateful.

  He attached the work and sent it. Her answer came back a few minutes later.

  I’ll try to check them out as soon as I’ve got a minute.

  Zach sent her a thanks and turned back to the quarterly reports while mentally calculating the time to 19:00.

  * * * *

  Adam arrived at the bar at 19:10, finding Zach sitting at a corner table. He slid onto the bench beside him and placed two beers on the table.

  “Sorry I’m late. Got talking to someone.”

  “That’s fine.” Though the look of intense relief Adam had seen when he arrived suggested Zach wasn’t as cool about it as he tried to appear. “I haven’t been here long.” The beer glass he had sitting in front of him when Adam arrived was almost empty, but maybe he’d been thirsty and drunk it quick.

  “Nice and warm today,” Adam said. “Funny to think it’s winter back home.”

  “It’s definitely odd to have no real seasons here. I’m from Boston; I think I’ll miss fall and winter.”

  “California boy, myself, so we don’t have much of a winter. But yes, it’s strange even for me. The constant climate makes agriculture much easier, though.” He shook himself. “But hey, that sounds like work talk, and it’s against the rules.”

  “Rules?”

  “My rules. No work talk on a date.”

  Zach smiled. He clearly liked the confirmation that they were on a date. Unless he thought it silly. Adam had met guys who thought dating was what you did with women and considered it a waste of valuable sex time. He didn’t agree. He loved dating. He intended to date the hell out of Zach Benesh.

  “All right, no work talk,” Zach said. “So, what about this concert? I was going to check up about it, but I got too busy.”

  “Quarterly reports, huh?” Adam knew the answer from the pained look on Zach’s face. It would do him good to forget about them for a few hours. “Okay, no work talk. Right, the concert. It’s more of a recital, really. Kids from the school.” Zach’s false expression of enthusiasm amused him. “I know, it will probably be awful, but it gets me out of the house.”

  “I don’t see you as being someone who has a problem there. You seem very social.”

  “Too social.” Adam would have his doctorate already if he’d been a bit less social over the last few years. “But we have to meet people. They keep us human, don’t they?”

  “I…I guess.”

  He sounded unsure. Adam guessed he was more the solitary type. An ivory tower academic who’d grow long fingernails and a beard down to his knees if left to his own devices. A born hermit. But Adam wouldn’t allow it. If Zach needed a little push out into the world, Adam could give it to him, whatever other directions their relationship went in.

  “Let’s go,” Adam said. “Finish your drink.”

  “Already? It doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes, and there are plenty of seats.”

  “I know. But I’m going to show you the best seats in the house.”

  They finished their beers, and Adam led Zach past the banks of chairs arranged in front of the stage. Some were occupied already. There was little entertainment to be had in Arius, so any event, no matter how prosaic, brought people out. Even the candidate’s campaign speeches for the council elections drew sizeable audiences—sometimes armed with elderly eggs and vegetables to increase the entertainment value of the event.

  Adam led Zach to a flight of steps behind the stage, dodging past the bustling crowd of kids and teachers and parents. The steps led them to the first of several catwalks ringing the walls of the dome. Plants had long ago taken over the catwalks and steps, some of which had become almost fully enclosed green tunnels. From others, the plants hung in great curtains of foliage.

  “Are we going all the way to the top?” Zach asked, cautious on the steps, holding tight to the handrail as they climbed up to the next level.

  “You aren’t afraid of heights, are you?”

  “No.” He sounded unsure.

  “The acoustics up there are amazing. And it gets the most light and least disturbance, so it’s like a jungle! Come on, two more flights.”

  The sounds of voices, squeaks, and groans from instruments warming up and a snatch of melody here and there floated up as they climbed. At last they reached the highest catwalk, the smallest circle of all, close to the top of the dome.

  “Now round the other side so we’re facing the stage,” Adam said. “Careful where you step. There are tendrils and branches on the floor.” He picked his way around carefully by the light of the soft lamps, some almost hidden by foliage. Behind him, Zach muttered a curse or two as they walked. “Okay back there?”

  “Just wishing I’d remembered to bring my machete.”

  “Hey! No chopping plants except for the purposes of pruning, please. You wouldn’t like me coming along and sma
shing your rocks, would you?”

  “I do have a collection of interesting rocks, actually.”

  Adam laughed, glancing back to see Zach cringe, perhaps reading the laugh as mockery. It wasn’t. Interesting rocks might be an oxymoron to Adam, but what could he say about it?

  “Maybe one day we can introduce your collection of interesting rocks to my collection of interesting seeds.”

  Zach looked both relieved and sheepish. “My rocks are back on Earth. At my parents’ house.”

  “I’m sure your mother is loving having to dust them.”

  “She gave me several of them, so she can’t complain. Is this it?”

  “Yes.” They’d reached a spot Adam had found while up here studying the overgrown plants. Ideal for watching the stage far below and nicely dark. “Sit down,” he said. “You can dangle your legs over, see. Put one each side of that rail, and you can’t slip off.” Zach maneuvered cautiously into place, and Adam sat beside him. The floor of the catwalk was thick with branches, stems, tendrils, and leaves, softer to sit on than the metal walkway. Their legs swung out into empty space, far above the audience. People were coming onto the stage. The seats in front were almost full.

  “This was a greenhouse in the old days, wasn’t it?” Zach asked.

  “Yes. They grew all the fresh food in here.”

  “It must have been very strange in those days, confined to the domes for years.”

  Down below, a teacher announced the start of the recital, and a group of youngsters started playing a violin piece. Adam had always had enormous admiration for parents who encouraged their children to play the violin. They must be very patient people. But up here, the acoustics of the dome and the muffling effect of the plants made for a quite pleasant effect.

  “Would you sign on to a dome colony like that?” Zach asked.

  Adam shrugged. “Maybe. The atmosphere processing takes much less time than it did when this place was founded.” It had taken them a decade to make the air of Ethris breathable, but the same process would only take two years now. “But I’d miss the outside. Plants in here, sure, they’re great, just as interesting.” He caressed a leaf by his head, feeling the smooth, cool surface, and convinced himself as always he could feel the life in it. “But plants belong outside. So do I.”

  “Yes.” Zach looked at him, eyes deep black and unreadable in the darkness. “Yes, you definitely do. In the sunshine.” He reached over and touched Adam’s shoulder with a tentative hand, letting his thumb slide under the short sleeve of his shirt. Goose bumps swept down Adam’s arm at the touch, and his stomach got a little agitated.

  “You like the outdoors?” Adam asked.

  “Yes.”

  He probably did a lot of fieldwork, Adam supposed, and pictured him tapping away at rocks with a little hammer, dressed in nothing but hiking boots, tiny shorts, and a sun hat. Probably not accurate, but a delightful picture all the same.

  “I do like to be able to come inside at the end of the day to a hot shower and a soft bed, though,” Zach said.

  Adam laughed. “Oh yes, I see the appeal.” He saw the appeal of coming in to a hot shower and soft bed with Zach in both of them too. Zach’s hand was still on his arm, the thumb moving slowly back and forth. Adam decided it was time he did something about that. He leaned across toward Zach, who looked startled and delighted only for a moment, then closed his eyes as Adam’s lips touched his.

  Adam kept the kiss quick and light. They couldn’t easily move closer together sitting as they were with legs wrapped around the railing uprights to keep them from slipping off. And the night was young. The musicians below were coming to the end of the first piece, and as the audience broke into applause, Adam pulled back, smiling at Zach. A brief kiss but worth applauding.

  “Is talking about the dome too much like work talk?” Zach asked after a moment.

  Adam shrugged. “No, I think that’s okay. We’re discussing the history of the place we live in.”

  Were they, though? Zach’s question had been about the future, not the past. Would Adam sign on to an early stage colony? Be a founder? Many of the people who’d founded Arius still lived here. Some were buried here. Had given their lives to the place. Could Adam ever do the same?

  “I sometimes wonder,” Adam said, “if you signed up for a contract like that, do you think it would be better to have someone beforehand—a partner, I mean—or would you pair up with someone during the time?”

  “I’ve never thought of it,” Zach said. “There’s no guarantee you’d find someone to pair off with if you came alone.”

  “True. But you might become a lot less fussy than you would be when there really are plenty more fish in the sea.”

  “Lower standards?”

  “I guess.” Adam rested his chin on his hands on the rail in front of him. “On the other hand, imagine if you came with someone and then broke up with them. All that time stuck with your ex!”

  Zach chuckled. “Tricky, yes.” He rested his hands and chin the same way as Adam. Down below, a teenage girl with a flute took the stage. “Is it true what I’ve heard, that the Terraforming Authority encourages couples like us to sign up?”

  “Couples like us?” Adam tried not to sound alarmed.

  “I…I mean, people like us,” Zach said quickly, his face flushing. “Men who are in a couple. Or women. Not that we’re… I mean same-sex couples rather than opposite-sex ones.”

  Adam tried not to laugh at Zach’s babbling. Foot in mouth there, boy. “No, I see what you mean. That’s what I’ve heard too. It’s because they don’t want too many people having children at the very early stage of the colony. Children use resources but don’t contribute.” He glanced at the stage and the girl on it. “In a material sense anyway. An early stage colony can’t afford much of that.”

  “Ah, yes, I see the logic,” Zach said, sounding very serious, like he was trying too hard to recover from his gaffe.

  They fell silent as the music from below caught their attention, the notes of the flute seeming to dance and swirl through the foliage around them.

  “She’s good,” Zach said quietly.

  Adam just nodded, not taking his eyes from the stage below. The girl was maybe fifteen. She could be the granddaughter of an early stage colonist. There were already three generations of colonists here, even though it still counted as a young settlement.

  “The length of time this all takes awes me sometimes,” Adam said. “Individuals play a part for a year or two or five or fifty, and then they’re gone, and the colony goes on, growing all the time. It’s like being a stalk of wheat in a field. Here for a while, then gone, but the field keeps on growing more wheat year after year.”

  “The colony’s only been here forty years. That’s not so long.”

  “No, that’s a long time. And just think of the Terraforming Authority, the power they have. Governments come and go, but the Authority just goes on and on.”

  “Is that something that interests you?” Zach asked. “I know it’s a bit of a hot political issue back home.”

  “Me?” Adam shook himself from his thoughtful mood and grinned at Zach. “I’m only interested in plants and partying. And geophysicists with strange pickup lines.”

  “That’s a rather specific preference. I’m surprised you meet any of those at all.”

  “Well, as a matter of fact, I just did, only yesterday. He’s kind of odd but so cute.” Zach blushed furiously at Adam’s words, and Adam laughed until Zach shut him up with a kiss.

  Unlike the last one, this kiss was only the start of a series, which lasted for an hour, for the rest of the concert. Adam felt the urgency in Zach, but he didn’t encourage it. Not tonight. Plenty of time later. Anyway, they might be out of sight up here but were still technically in public.

  When the last of the music ended and the audience applauded for the final time, Adam moved back from Zach, who looked at him, lips swollen, hair tousled, and eyes rather hazy.

  “Let’s
get some supper,” Adam suggested. Zach blinked at him before his eyes cleared, like a man waking up. The glow of the lights, diffused and made green by the plants growing over them, gave him an eerie look, a supernatural cast to his skin, his eyes deep in shadow.

  “We can, maybe, um, eat at my place,” Zach said, his voice hoarse.

  Adam shook his head, knowing that wasn’t an invitation only to eat. “Not tonight. Let’s go sample the delights downstairs.” He pointed down at the Dome Bar below. They did decent light suppers. He didn’t let Zach’s disappointed look sway him. Dating, Zach, he thought. Dating. Anticipation. Maybe Zach rushed into things. If he did, Adam intended to teach him the pleasure of waiting long enough to work up an appetite.

  * * * *

  “So, I’ve heard you’re seeing that Dr. Benesh.”

  Adam looked up, startled, from where he was running his scanner over a stalk of wheat. The farmer grinned at him from under her sun hat. Adam smiled back at her.

  “Nothing travels faster than gossip, does it?”

  “Not around here, no. Went to the concert in the dome with him last night?”

  “I may have.” And then supper and talking until late in the bar before strolling under the stars, Adam walking Zach home to the A dome. They’d parted outside the dome with some lingering kisses, Adam resisting another invitation to go inside “for coffee.” But they had made a date for tonight.

  He bent over the wheat again. It was doing well, the stalks sturdy and green, about halfway to ripening. “You’re taking good care of this crop, Eva.”

  “It’s a good variety. And the weather’s helped. Could do with more rain, though.”

  “There’s rain forecast for next week. Okay, I’m all done. I should get moving.” He had several more farms to visit.

  “Oh, what’s the hurry? Come and have some coffee. And I’ve got a batch of cookies ready to come out of the oven.”

  “And you want to hear more about me and Dr. Benesh.”

  “That too. We old ladies have to have something to talk about.”