"Then why am I here?"
"Uncle Ira wants you here. I don't."
"That's not what Uncle Ira said."
"Uncle Ira was wrong."
"I doubt that very much," I snapped right back. I could feel my anger rising, but I was going to live up to my promise if it killed me. I swallowed hard. "Uncle Ira doesn't make stupid mistakes."
Lizard caught the difference in my tone and stopped and stared at me. "Okay," she admitted. She took a breath and lowered her voice too. "Yes. I wanted you here when I wanted you here. But Uncle Ira was working with old news. Now I don't want you here. I've changed my mind."
I shrugged and walked toward the balcony. I hit the panel to open the windows.
"What are you doing?"
"You don't want me here. I'm leaving. I'm jumping ship. Don't worry about me. I'll find my way back to Panama City."
"Don't be stupid, Jim."
I shrugged. "I can't anyway. The windows are locked until our speed drops below forty klicks. I'll have to wait until sunset and jump out then. Is that okay?" She didn't answer. "Or do you want me to throw a chair through one of these? I think I still remember how."
She shook her head. "Always with the smart remarks. And you wonder why no one gets along with you."
"Wait." I held up a hand. I counted to one-
She was studying me curiously. "What?"
"I promised Uncle Ira-"
"He told me what you promised."
"He did?"
"I told him not to bother sending you. He said it was too late, you were on your way. I told him I'd send you back. He told me to work it out with you when you got here. So this is what I'm doing. I'm working it out. I'm General Tirelli, you're Captain McCarthy. I sleep in there. You sleep in there. End of discussion."
"Is that it? I don't get a chance to apologize?"
"I'm sure that your apology will be wonderful, Jim. You've spent a lifetime learning how to apologize correctly. You can apologize better than any ten people I know. You could give classes in how to apologize. But I've seen your act. I've heard all of your apologies. Over and over and over again. I've seen the performance, Jim. I'm bored with it. There isn't anything you can say to me that I haven't already heard, and none of it is going to make a damn bit of difference anymore."
"I love you," I said softly.
"I love you too," she replied, but her tone was unchanged. "So what?" She folded her arms across her chest and looked impregnable. "That only works in the movies, Jim. It doesn't change what I've decided. Just because your hormones get along with mine doesn't mean I have to disconnect my brain for the privilege."
I looked down at my hands. My knuckles were getting very white. My grip was tightening on the back of the chair. I could almost feel myself swinging it through the nearest window. I didn't think Captain Harbaugh would approve. I knew that Uncle Ira would be unhappy.
"I made a promise," I said. My throat hurt so badly, I could barely get the words out. My voice was trembling. "I promised Uncle Ira that if he let me have this chance that I would do whatever I had to do to work things out with you. And he led me to believe that's what you wanted too."
Her tone was still too sharp. "If you expected me to be waiting I'or you with open arms-"
"I expected you to shut up and listen," I snapped right back at her. I surprised myself. "I heard what you had to say. Now it's my turn."
Amazingly, she shut. It was an effort, but she shut. She kept her arms folded, she bit her lip, she looked at the rug as if it were the wrong place to be, she turned around as if looking for a new place to stand, then stepped over to the wall and stood with her back against it, still with her arms folded across her chest. She looked at me with eyes like ice and waited.
I took a breath and tried to remember what I had been about to say. I tried to recreate the mood; my voice was strained as I began. "… All the way here, I kept trying to imagine what I could say to you or what you might say to me. I couldn't imagine that you were going to be happy to see me. But neither did I imagine that you were going to be deliberately hostile. But I did think that you would listen to what I had to say. And now the joke's on me. Because I can't think of a single thing that I need to tell you. You don't want to hear my apology. You don't need to hear what I promised Uncle Ira. And there's nothing else for me to tell you. And even if I could think of something else, you don't want to hear it anyway. It wouldn't make a difference, so why bother to say it? So I'll get off at Amapa and catch a plane home. Thanks for the vacation."
I thought I was through. I started to turn away; but abruptly, one more thought occurred to me. I turned back to her. "Y'know-" I added softly, "I thought I had something to offer to this mission. I earned the job of science officer. Instead I got footprints on my back. And yeah, I got mad. But Uncle Ira told me that you really did value my services and that you had a field promotion planned. Okay, yes, I was an idiot. A complete jerk. An asshole. I'm sure you can add a whole bunch of other names that I can't imagine; you always were better at swearing than I was. But I still thought I could make a valuable difference here. Now you're telling me that I can't even do that. So there really isn't any point in my staying."
The whole thing was getting very clear to me now. I faced her directly and spoke as evenly as I could. She met my gaze dispassionately.
"I always thought that you were the one person I could depend on, no matter what. I've depended on your strength and on your maturity and on your wisdom from the first day I met you. I admired you so much. I thought that you knew how to make everything work just the way it should. You were one of my role models, the way you handled yourself and the people around you. I wanted to be like you. And every time you spoke to me, I felt like I was being honored. And every time you told me I had done good, I felt like I'd been kissed by God. I'd have done anything for you. Not just because I love you, but because… just because you're you. And even after we started sleeping together-I was so fucking amazed. The more I knew you, the better you got. And the harder I had to work to keep up with you. To be worthy of you.
"And then you brought in Dwan Grodin, and I thought you had lost confidence in me. I can't tell you how hurt I was. I was so demolished that I blew it. I lost all control. Suddenly, I wasn't good enough for you anymore. I went into the bathroom and cried until I lost my lunch. I haven't cried like that since I don't know when.
"And then Uncle Ira, who was apparently suffering only a mild case of death, came back and explained that you hadn't lost faith in me, that you were just as angry as I was, and I realized just how completely stupid I had been. So, yes, I got on the plane thinking that maybe, just maybe, if you and I could sit down and talk to each other that maybe, just maybe, you might understand and forgive.
"Now here I am discovering that you don't want to understand, you don't want to listen, and you don't want to forgive. And after all my work trying to put myself back together, I'm being ripped apart all over again. And the one person I most need to talk to about this is you-and you're not here for me anymore. And I can't tell you how much this hurts."
"Are you done?" she asked quietly.
"Yes," I said.
"For someone who doesn't have anything to say, you sure have a lot to say." She shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry that you're hurting. This isn't easy for me either. I'm sorry, Jim. I tried, I really did. But we can't just keep putting the pieces back together over and over. It's the same thing every time. Having a relationship with you is like dancing with a time bomb."