Every so often in the endless floating haze of their existence, he would glance over at Kalinda and smile, or give her an encouraging nod. At first he had been filled with confidence that they were faced with only a temporary inconvenience. That confidence eroded as time passed, although one could never have known it from the way he continued to look in a positive manner at his sister. What choice did he have? Focusing on the growing likelihood that they would not survive their predicament wasn’t going to help anything.
But the silence was just ... just staggering.
Naturally there was no sound in airless space. On a day-to-day basis, the Excaliburwas filled with noises, ranging from the distant thrumming of the engines to conversations, laughter, argument, and so on. Here, though, there was nothing. Endless nothing. He thought he was going to go insane.
So he was slightly startled when Kalinda abruptly said, after who knew how long, “We’re not getting out of this, are we.” There was no whining or fear in her voice. She was very matter-of-fact about it.
He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised at that. She was, after all, someone who seemed to have extended congress with the spirit world. Kalinda tended to view death as an extension of existence rather than the end of it. Si Cwan didn’t find that view comforting, unfortunately.
He wanted to lie to her. To tell her that everything was going to be okay, and that she shouldn’t worry her pretty little bald red head. But he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He had too much respect for her to insult her by feeding her cheery fabrications just to spare her feelings.
“I don’t know,” he said truthfully. He was surprised to hear his voice coming out as a sort of croak. That made sense. They hadn’t been talking all that much. The smart thing would be to refrain from talking now as well, but dying in the vacuum of space was pointless enough. Dying in silence while waiting for it to happen seemed a true exercise in futility. “I admit, matters look bleak. But they’re not hopeless.”
She stared out through the front viewing port at the vista of emptiness before them, that stretched to infinity without the slightest hint of another ship in sight. “Not totally hopeless.”
“No.”
“But significantly hopeless.”
He sighed and nodded. “Of sufficient significance as to warrant consideration, yes.”
The silence settled upon them once more as Kalinda absorbed his opinion ... an opinion that, on some level, she doubtless already knew.
“Any regrets?” she said abruptly.
He blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Any regrets. Over your life. All the decisions you’ve made.”
“Ah.” He could smell how stale the air was, and he was feeling light-headed besides. Every instinct told him that it was an obscene waste of resources and energy to be holding a conversation with Kalinda under these circumstances. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell his sister to be quiet. For all he knew, this might be their last conversation. “Well ... obviously I regret the decisions that have brought us to this pass.”
“Really? I’m surprised. I mean, I personally thought this was your best decision ever.”
He laughed softly at that. “I see your powers of sarcasm remain undiminished.”
“I’ve worked hard to make it so. It’s comforting to know all that effort hasn’t gone to waste.”
“Is there really any point to examining regrets?” He sighed. “Really. Wouldn’t it be preferable to dwell on all the positives?”
“I don’t see the point of that. Dwelling on positives would simply be an exercise in self-congratulations bordering on eulogizing. Pondering the things you’ve done wrong is more forward-thinking. It allows you to consider different directions you might take in the future ...”
“Presuming we have one.”
“Well, that’s implicit, yes.”
He had to admit, he liked her thinking. Dwelling upon roads not taken, things one might do differently. “I keep thinking about the fall of the Thallonian Empire,” he said after a time. “I find myself wondering if there isn’t more I could have done. Some action I could have taken that might have prevented it.”
Kalinda shifted in her seat and rested her chin thoughtfully on her hand. “I’m not entirely sure what you could have done. Matters certainly spiraled out of your control.”
“That’s the point. I should have found a way to maintain control.”
“I don’t know if that would have been possible, Cwan, even for you.”
“Yes, well ... that’s the aspect of ‘regret’ that’s the most problematic. Determining what and what not to blame oneself for.” He paused, and then smiled. “You’ll think it’s ridiculous.”
“What? What’s ridiculous?”
“It’s trite.”
“Cwan! Everyone regrets something. If you can’t be honest with your own sister when death may be galloping toward us, when can you?”
He sighed. “Women.”
“You regret women?” She looked at him askance. “Cwan, is there something you’ve not been telling me until now?”
“What are you ... oh. No, not that.” He smiled. “Nothing like that. It’s more a case of that, in the entirety of my life, I’ve never had a genuine, long-lasting, relationship with a woman. I’ve had affairs, dalliances, to be sure. But the women who approached me when I was a nobleman of Thallon always seemed to do so because they were attracted to the power I wielded. I was never certain they felt anything for me, myself. Since the collapse of the Thallonian Empire, there haven’t really been opportunities to explore any sort of extended relationship with a woman. Again, a dalliance here and there.”
“Really? Who?”
“Kally,” he admonished her, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. “This is becoming unseemly. ...”
“I was just curious. If you’re ashamed ...”
“I’m not ashamed!”
“Well?”
He sighed. “The executive officer of the Trident.”
Kalinda looked stunned. “ Her?You became involved with her?”
“You sound shocked.”
“I am!Aren’t you at all concerned about Captain Calhoun’s feelings?”
Si Cwan stared at her blankly for a moment, and then said impatiently, “The executive officer,Kalinda. Not Captain Shelby, Calhoun’s wife.”
“Oh.” She looked confused. “Isn’t the executive officer the same thing as the captain?”
“No.”
“Oh. Then who ... ?”
“Mueller. She’s the executive officer.”
“The blond woman with the scar?”
“If you must know, yes. Her.”
“Poor choice.”
Si Cwan was taken aback by his sister’s offhand dismissal of Kat Mueller. “You speak to me of poor choices? You, who became involved with a meandering, shiftless rogue?”
Immediately he regretted saying it, but before he could even apologize, Kalinda said heatedly, “You will not talk that way about Xyon. He was Calhoun’s son, and brave, and he saved my life, and I know you never liked him, but you don’t get to say such things about him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You just don’t get to say them.”
“I saidI’m sorry, Kalinda. Now, please ... it seems pointless to argue during what may well be our final moments.”
Obviously she felt the truth of what he was saying, but nevertheless his comments about Xyon obviously rankled. “All right. Fine. And I ... suppose I shouldn’t have acted that way about the executive officer person. But really, Cwan, how you could have missed the obvious choice in your own life ...”
“What obvious choice?” he asked.
“Robin Lefler, of course.”
“What do you mean?”
She stared at him with unrestrained incredulity. “What do I mean?Si Cwan, the woman’s in lovewith you.”
He outright laughed at that. “Kally, don’t be absurd. ...”
“It’s not absurd! I can seeit! In the way she talks to you, looks at you. For as long as I’ve been with you on Excalibur,I could tell she had the deepest of feelings for you. I always just assumed that you knew, but didn’t reciprocate. It never occurred to me that you were just oblivious to it.”