Wired

Desh knew that Metzger was still in the thrall of Kira’s treatment, which meant he was undoubtedly focusing on ridiculously complex problems at the same time his avatar personality was speaking with them. And he must have also read their body language like a neon sign, picking up on their mutual infatuation and Desh’s desire to have a few minutes alone with Kira. He would have to remember to thank the major later.

 

Metzger turned back toward Desh as he and Connelly reached the front door. “You’re welcome,” he said knowingly, and then, guns drawn, both men cautiously exited the mansion.

 

The corners of Desh’s mouth turned up into a wry smile in response to Metzger’s words, but his smile quickly vanished as he made a visual inspection of Kira’s arm. “Are you all right?” he asked softly.

 

She smiled, almost bashfully. “Never better,” she said simply.

 

Desh paused awkwardly. “Kira,” he began. “About this whole being in love thing—” He looked at her uncertainly. “I feel a bit silly. I never believed it could happen so suddenly.”

 

She nodded. “Me either.”

 

“We’ve been through hell together,” he continued, “and we’ve bared our souls to each other. We know more about each other than couples who have been together for months.” He sighed. “What we don’t know is how we’ll be together when the pressure is off. So I was thinking—even if it might seem a bit ridiculous at this point in our relationship—maybe we should go on an old-fashioned, boring first date. No commandos or adrenaline allowed.”

 

“A first date, huh,” said Kira, considering. “Not a bad idea.” She grinned and then added playfully, “But I should warn you, I don’t kiss until the third date.”

 

Desh laughed. “In that case,” he said, “I’m prepared to call our time together at Montag’s Gourmet Pizza a date.” He raised his eyebrows. “And you did take me to a motel and tie me to the headboard of a bed. Does that count?”

 

“Nope. I’m afraid not. Normally it would, but given that I brought you there in the trunk of a car, I have to disqualify it.”

 

“Okay, then. What about the nature hike we shared together?”

 

“We weren’t alone.”

 

“Damn,” said Desh. “Your definition of a date is awfully picky. You also took me to your place for the night, but since we weren’t alone then, either, I suppose you won’t count it.” Desh shook his head. “If I had known,” he added wryly, “I would have ditched the major and the colonel at the baseball stadium when we landed.”

 

Kira laughed and leaned closer to him, well within an inescapable gravity well that was impossible for either of them to resist, even had they wanted to. They kissed hungrily, and only the sure knowledge that they wouldn't remain alone for long in what had become a war zone enabled them to, finally, separate.

 

Kira sighed dreamily. “I’ll tell you what,” she whispered with a contented smile. “I’m prepared to count our entire time together as the equivalent of two dates.”

 

“Two?” whispered a euphoric Desh, who felt as though he surely must be floating. “I thought you didn't kiss 'till the third.”

 

“That was just a sample,” she said.

 

“An incredibly effective one,” he said contentedly.

 

“Good. Because after we’ve showered and gotten some sleep, I’ll be ready for that third date. We can go out to dinner. I’m buying.”

 

“Really,” said Desh, amused. “That sounds like too good of a deal to pass up.”

 

“Well, you did bring Matt Griffin to the team. And he did just deposit half a billion dollars in my account. So I suppose I owe you a nice dinner.”

 

“A half billion dollars only gets me dinner?”

 

Kira flashed an incandescent smile. “That remains to be seen,” she said, her eyes dancing.

 

Desh grinned. There was a long silence as he gazed deeply into her eyes. As he did so, he couldn’t help but feel they were truly in love. But he knew this could well be an illusion. It could prove to be nothing more than a passing infatuation, catalyzed by their being thrown together in desperate circumstances and forced to fight for their lives side by side.

 

If only emotions were as simple as pure reason, he thought. But they weren’t. They were primal, and often incomprehensible.

 

But that’s what made emotion the most critical part of being human, Desh realized. If life could be reduced to the purely rational, to a solvable equation, there would be no mystery, no excitement. Life would become utterly predictable; a tedious movie that could never surprise. The truth was that neither he nor Kira, normal or enhanced, could know for sure if their feelings for each other would diminish or grow as time marched on.

 

Desh knew that Connelly and Metzger were waiting for them. “We’d better go,” he said softly, pulling his eyes away from Kira’s and nodding toward the oversized front door of the mansion. “Our chariot—and our future—await,” he added.

 

“Gallantly said,” noted Kira with a smile. She raised her eyebrows. “Any guesses as to what that future might hold?”

 

Desh shook his head. “Not a one,” he replied. “But I can tell you this,” he added happily. “I suddenly can’t wait to find out.”

 

 

 

 

 

EPILOGUE

Richards, Douglas E.'s books