Pierre Lafayette had never been particularly fond of Space Fleet. When he graduated the Medical University, among the top ten in the whole Alliance, he got a job offer from the Fleet Medical Department, which he turned down immediately. The Fleet was too military and too bureaucratic for his taste.
Now, he had to experience that bureaucracy first hand as he reported the crashed shuttle. Of course, he understood why. Privately owned, it was still their technology. They had to dispatch a ship to retrieve the wreckage, make sure nobody gets their secrets… ugh!
He couldn't have been happier when, five days later, they finally let him go with a brand new ship. He made sure it was the same class and he had used as little free time he had in the meantime to haunt for some good wine. The Picards' vineyards in France region had the best reputation so he got most of his supplies there.
A month later, already on his way as far from the civilized worlds as possible, he received a weak distress signal. After consulting his computer, he realized that his was the only ship in the vicinity. The signal was also too weak to go through much further.
With a heavy sigh, he sent out a buoy to broadcast the signal better and contacted Space Fleet only to hear that any help could arrive in two weeks at the very best. *Well,* he mused. *This is what you get when you're so keen on exploring the boondocks, isn't it?*
There was nothing else he could do but plot a course to the source of the signal which appeared to be on the second planet of a nearby system.
Closing on to the planet, he tried to contact someone there but he never got any answer. He took as detailed readings as he could. The planet was, for the most part, uninhabited. Except for one, small settlement. About  a thousand people. Humans. Pierre understood why nobody had answered his hails when he detected virtually no technology on the surface, except for the transponder which kept on sending its distress signal.
What worried him most, though, was the closer look on the life signs. Many were fading. *They probably need medical assistance,* he realized, including all the information he had gathered into his buoy's data stream. Now, he wished to be on the other side of the Galaxy but he knew he couldn't. Answering a distress call was an absolute priority for everything that was in space and he had no choice.
Cringing internally, he took his med kit and stood on the teleporter platform as soon as he was within range.
When he materialized on the surface, about five meters from the transponder, he spotted a shack in the middle of the forest. From the scans, he knew it was in some distance from the main village.
"Hello!" he shouted. "Is there anyone here?"
From the shack emerged a young woman, maybe in her late twenties. With long, auburn hair and dark eyes, clad in some crude dress, apparently home made, and with a tired look on her face. The moment she saw him, though, her eyes lit up.
"Finally! You're here to help us, aren't you?"
"I'm not sure," Pierre shook his head, coming closer. "My name is Pierre Lafayette… What happened here?"
"I'm Sarah Gordon," she replied quickly and looked at him with hope. "You are a doctor, aren't you?" she asked.
"No… not really," Pierre disappointed her immediately. "I'm just a traveler. But I amplified your signal and notified the Fleet. The help should be here in two weeks or so."
The girl stopped in her tracks and shook her head helplessly. "In two weeks there will be nobody alive here," she said quietly.
"It can't be that bad…" he tried to comfort her but she flashed him an angry look.
"Bad?! It's worse than that!" she said, glancing at his med kit. "We already have twenty dead and  last time I checked, about a hundred others are already sick!"
"That's over ten per cent of your population, isn't it?" Pierre was shocked. The girl only nodded. "Have you isolated the sick ones?"
"I have. But we're getting new cases everyday and until I can identify the source of the infection, we're all in danger."
"Have you at least managed to determine if it's a virus or bacteria? How it spreads?"
Sarah inspected him carefully before she replied. "I thought you said you weren't a doctor?"
Pierre cringed. This was the last thing he wanted to do. Since Yvonne died, medicine was… but he had no choice. There were people dying and he was the only one who could help…
"I'm not anymore," he said softly. "I haven't practiced in years. But I used to be a surgeon."
The girl's face brightened up again. "Thank goodness!" she whispered and only now gestured for him to go into the shack with her.
When he entered, he found a primitive laboratory. Very primitive. Even the microscope… "I assume you do have medical qualifications… Sarah?"
"No, Sir, not really," the girl replied sadly when they sat down on a wooden bench. "I… I left the medical school after two years…"
"Why?" he raised his eyebrows.
Sarah looked embarrassed. "Our colony," she began quietly. "We… we don't want civilization here. We live close to nature and…"
"And your people don't care much for education, either, right?" he finished for her, remembering how he couldn't contact anyone on the surface and never found any computers.
"Right," she admitted. "A few years ago I… I escaped. I wanted to be a doctor but… I guess I wasn't strong enough… Oh," she realized. "Can I get you anything? Something to eat or drink, perhaps?"
"No, I'm fine," Pierre waved his hand. "You'd better tell me all you know about that disease. I can see you were trying to do to some research?" he asked, pointing at her laboratory.
"Yeah… But I don't have the equipment and… knowledge…"
"What are the symptoms?"
"Well," she started thoughtfully. "First comes the fever. Then people complain about awful headaches and dizziness. They start having trouble breathing and…"
"And?"
"Three or four days later they die…" she finished in a stifled voice.
"Do you have blood samples?" Pierre asked. She nodded. "Alright," he replied with a heavy sigh. "Gather all you have and wait for me. I'll land my shuttle and we'll use my equipment to see what the problem is."
"Thank you, Sir," the girl whispered.
* * *
The hope, however, seemed premature. All the blood samples run through the entire Alliance medical database revealed nothing. No known virus, no bacteria, no nothing.
"It must be some local mutation," muttered Lafayette six hours later, still busy with the simulations.
"Does this mean you can't help us?" asked Sarah who, unable to help him much, just sat at the back and watched what he was doing.
Pierre raised his head and looked at her with tired eyes. "I didn't say that. My second specialty was in genetics. I'm a little… out of date with my knowledge but we can still try. I'll need more samples," he added, rubbing his forehead.
"Shouldn't you see the sick yourself? I may have missed…"
"No!" he protested vehemently. "I won't need that," he added quieter, seeing a startled look on Sarah's face. "You just go and bring me more blood to test. And then you'll tell me all about the first cases. If we know who got sick first, we may be able to deduct the primary source."
When the girl left, he sat heavily on the chair and buried his head in his hands. Getting back to medical research was hard enough. He didn't think he could force himself to actually look at those people. But Sarah was right. At some point, he will probably have to. The image of Yvonne, dead, on his table, made him shake all over. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, trying to regain his composure. He didn't have time to fall apart right now…
When Sarah got back with more samples, a couple of hours later, she found him back at work.
"Perhaps you should eat something?" she asked.
"I'm not hungry," he shot at her, taking the test tubes.
"But you definitely need to rest," Sarah said, looking at his face.
"Not tired," he told her impatiently.
"Doctor Lafayette…"
Pierre winced. Not this title… "Please," he said softly. "Just call me Pierre."
"Pierre… there are five more cases," she replied. "And two of our nurses got sick, too."
He stopped to look at her. "You have qualified nurses?"
"No…" she shook her head. "Just volunteers."
"What kind of precautions are you using?"
"Uhm…" she hesitated.
"Masks? Gloves? Antiseptics?"
"We don't…"
"You should have told me that at once!" he shouted, jumping up to his feet. "Give me your own blood to test and, in the meantime, I'll get the basics for you. How many people are now taking care of the sick?"
"Three…"
"For over a hundred people?" He cast her a surprised glance.
"We can't do much anyway… People are scared…"
"I see. Okay, I'll give you some equipment and you go and look for more volunteers. Anything they can do, change sheets, provide water and food… Oh yeah," he realized. "What's your basic diet?"
"We grow our own food…"
"Of course you do. I'll need samples to test. And water." He moved over to the converter and started tapping in the commands. "Why are you standing there?" He looked at her over his shoulder. "Draw your blood!"
"Right!"
"Oh, and one more thing," he stopped her before she left. "Sarah, tell me, about your people?"
"Yes?"
"Do they just choose to live away from civilization or… are they afraid of it?"
"Pierre," her tone of voice revealed that she was a little hurt. "We may be leading primitive life but we aren't primitive!" She told him proudly. "We're still the Human Alliance citizens!"
"Then…" he was still looking at her thoughtfully. "Explain something to me, please. You said that you had to escape to become a doctor?"
Sarah sighed and turned away from the door. "This is not what you think," she said. "It was because of my father. He didn't want me to…"
"I see," Pierre nodded.
"A Space Fleet patrol ship comes here every two years or so and then, those of us who want, just leave. Some come back but most… don't. I guess…" her shoulders sank. "I guess my father was just afraid to lose me," she finished quieter.
Pierre turned off the monitor he was leaning over and rubbed his forehead. "I have another job for you," he told her.
"Yes?"
"Gather a group of young people. You know everyone here, don't you?"
"For the most part?" she confirmed.
"I need an… investigation team. Make them go from home to home and ask questions. Make them tell your people that we're working on a solution but it's going to take a while. Tell them to report in sick as soon as they notice the first symptoms. And, most importantly, try to figure out who got infected first and what they had been doing. Something untypical… I don't know… ate a new fruit, bathed in a different pond… anything. Do you know anyone who could do that?"
"I guess…" Sarah thought for a while. "That would be Zoe and Anita and… Kyle…"
"Alright," Pierre wasn't listening to her anymore. "Tell them to do that and come back here. You're not infected," he smiled at her. "I'll need your help here."
"Of course!" Sarah spun around on her heel and was gone in a flash.
* * *
When she got back again, it was already getting dark. Lafayette didn't want to hear about resting but he told her to get some sleep.
"I think I may be a little closer to the solution," he said when she tried to protest.
"You know how to cure my people?" Her eyes widened up with hope.
"No, not yet," he shook his head. "But I'm beginning to think it's a flu…"
"A simple flu?" she couldn't believe.
"Not a simple one. A deadly mutation. I think I've isolated the virus, I have to find the right antibodies for it. Now get some rest, I'll need you in the morning."
"And you?"
"I'll be fine."
That, and an impatient wave of the hand, was all she got from him. With a sigh, she laid down and tried to sleep.
* * *
In the morning, she finally managed to convince him to eat something. He got some sandwiches for both of them and ate his, still sitting at the computer.
"Any progress?" She was almost afraid to ask.
"No. That virus was a false track," he told her sadly. "I lost a lot of time… I really have to know the primary source."
"You really have to get some rest," she told him firmly, seeing how tired he was. "Show me what to do and at least take a nap. You've been up all night!"
Pierre chuckled. "I'm on drugs," he shrugged. "I should be able to work for another twelve hours. We really need to hurry, there are ten more people sick."
"How do you know?" she asked, surprised.
"That… Kyle was here when you were asleep," he explained.
"Ah… Okay," she added vigorously, whisking off the breadcrumbs from her dress. "You just tell me what to do."
Pierre led her to the other computer and showed her how to run blood tests. He had to give her a small lecture about viruses and antibodies but she did remember some basics from her incomplete medical education and she was intelligent. An hour later, they were able to split the job and work together. Still, one result after another turned out negative.
Sarah was at least as eager to work as he was. He had to yell at her to make her take a break in the afternoon.
"Can't you give me the same drugs you're taking?" she asked. "So that I won't need to rest?"
Lafayette looked at her, amused. "They're dangerous," he told her gently.
"But you're taking them?" she opposed.
"Only because I have to. Don't worry," he added, looking at her, touched. "I'll be sleeping that night, no matter what, I promise."
"Doctor Lafayette?" he heard from the door and winced, hearing that title again.
In came a tiny, young girl with a thatch of bushy, red hair, cradling a bunch of small, yellow flowers in her arms.
"Yes?"
"I'm Zoe," she beamed at him. "We found out that the first one to get sick was, most probably, the son of our weaver, Peter. He was gathering these flowers the previous day," she said, handing him the bouquet.
"And this is uncommon?"
"Well, yes," she nodded vigorously, looking at him with wide open eyes. "We usually grow our own flowers, these are local…"
"I see," Pierre nodded, taking the flowers. "Thank you, Zoe," he added, without looking at her anymore, already busy preparing samples. The girl glanced at him, disappointed, but he had already forgotten she was even there. She sighed and left the shuttle.
* * *
"That's enough," Sarah told him firmly that evening, seeing him reel on his feet. "Now you really need to rest!"
"These flowers…" he tried. "I can't find anything wrong with them…"
"You'll finish in the morning," she said.
Pierre turned to look at her with tired eyes. "In the morning… I'll have to check up some of the patients," he said quietly.
"Whatever!"
Lafayette was so tired that Sarah thought she heard him snore even before his head touched the pillow. She put a blanket over him and dimmed the lights. Then, she went to the other room and threw herself on the bunk but she couldn't sleep for a long time.
* * *
"Are you alright?" she asked him the next morning when they were about to enter the barn which functioned as a makeshift hospital.
Pierre took a deep breath and managed a weak smile. "I'm fine," he said. But he wasn't. The very thought of direct contact with the… patients… He braced himself and put the mask and the gloves before entering the barn.
What he saw there was more than he expected. Some on the beds, but most just on the blankets, spread right on the ground, were rows and rows of people. Coughing, moaning or just lying there, waiting for someone to help them. For him…
"Pierre?" Sarah noticed how he paled. He nodded at her and came up to the first bed with gritted teeth and a scanner in his hand.
"How do you…" he only managed before the elderly lady snatched his hand.
"You're a… doctor?" she asked in a harsh voice.
"Yes, Ma'am," Pierre confirmed through tight throat. Apparently, he would have to get used to being called that…
"Help… my… daughter…" she coughed.
"I'll try," Pierre told her softly, struggling to free himself. But the lady was surprisingly strong.
"You have to help her…"
He looked at Sarah, seeking her help. She pointed him to another bed, where a little girl, maybe five year old, was curled up, fast asleep.
Pierre smiled reassuringly at the old lady and went over to the girl. He waved his scanner over her only to realize that she already had liquid in her lungs. He looked up at Sarah and saw tears in her eyes.
"Sarah?"
"She's my sister," the girl told him quietly.
"And this old lady…"
"My Mom," she confirmed, trying to regain control.
"Sarah," Pierre said softly, getting up. "I'll do my best…"
"I know," she didn't let him finish.
Lafayette checked a few more patients in various stages of the disease and finally left the barn. The moment he was outside, he tore off his mask and breathed heavily, with his back against the wall.
"What’s wrong?" Sarah came up to him.
"I'm fine," he told her and started walking back towards the shuttle, not looking at her anymore. "Tell Zoe and… Kyle to come see me," he barked without turning around.
* * *
"Are you sure these were the flowers he was gathering?" He asked Zoe half an hour later.
"Well, not exactly," she hesitated. "It was over a week ago, they died…"
"I mean, were these from the same place?" Pierre asked patiently.
"No… he went to the valley…"
"That's it!" Lafayette shouted. "Go there and bring me the flowers from there! Not that many," he added. "A few will be sufficient, I don't need a whole bouquet…"
"Okay!" The girl had already sprung up to her feet but he stopped her.
"Make sure to wear the gloves," he reminded her.
* * *
After two more days of murderous work, Lafayette finally exclaimed triumphantly: "I got it!"
Both he and Sarah jumped to their feet and she threw herself in his arms. He tensed for a second, remembering Mona… but he soon realized she was just expressing her joy. He lifted her and spun her around while she laughed happily. The moment he let her down again, she moved away, but still held his hands.
"I knew you'd do it!" she told him.
"I want you to double check my results, please," he kissed her palm. "I'm tired…"
"I know you are. But you did it!"
Pierre gestured for her to sit at his computer and she ran the last tests again. The antibody mutation seemed to be working fine.
"I wouldn't have done it without you," Pierre told her, walking up to the converter. "You took half of the work."
"Does this mean you can cure everybody now?"
He turned to look at her and sighed. He forgot she knew so little about medicine. "No, not yet," he shook his head. "This is just a vaccine. It means there shouldn't be any new cases. For those already ill, I'll need something stronger," he explained, tapping in the recipe for the converter. But it shouldn't take much longer now," he reassured her. "Now I need you to take a shot," he added, handing her the first pressure injector. "Then I'll transport these to the village. I want you to make sure that those in the immediate contact with the sick get it first. Then, everybody else."
"I see…" Sarah was still smiling when she pressed the trigger. "How much longer?"
Lafayette wiped his forehead. "Hard to say," he admitted. "If I'm lucky, we may have a cure within an hour. If I'm not, it still shouldn't take more than a day or two."
He hadn't slept the last night again. Sarah knew, because she couldn't sleep herself and she heard him walk around the laboratory. The walls on his shuttle weren't all that thick.
"You should get some rest, now," she told him, wondering how many times she had repeated that before. She didn't really hope he'd listen to her and she was right.
"Every minute counts," he told her, already on his way back to the computer.
* * *
She was back two hours later and he was still working. She stood in the door, leaning on the frame. It took him a moment to realize that she was there. When he looked up at her, she said quietly. "Pierre, my sister…"
"Sarah, I'm working as fast as I can…" he told her softly.
"I know but… she's dead…" She couldn't hold the tears anymore.
"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" Pierre jumped to his feet and came up to her.
"She was… she was so young… and bright… and sweet…" she sobbed with her head buried on his chest.
"I know dear, I know… I'm so sorry…" Lafayette whispered, stroking her back and leading her to the bunk. When they sat down, he cradled her in his arms while she wept. He didn't say anything, allowing her to cry as much as she needed. When she finally calmed herself down enough to look at him, he handed her a handkerchief. She saw that he also had tears in his eyes.
"Pierre?"
"That's one of the reasons why I don't practice medicine anymore," he whispered when her deep sigh told him she was beginning to regain her composure. "You can never save everyone…"
"But you've saved so many," she said like he was the one who needed to be comforted.
"It's not about numbers, Sarah," he shook his head. "It's about… feelings. I… I can't bear it anymore. See? I saved so many people, you say. But I couldn't help your little sister… There's always somebody's loved one that you fail to…"
"There's still my mom," she interrupted him. "And so many more, waiting for the cure. We should get back to work?"
Pierre watched her with concern. "You're sure you want to? Maybe you'd rather be with your family right now?"
"No," she said firmly, getting up. "You said it yourself that every minute counts, right? If there's anything I can do to help…"
Lafayette nodded and they both sat back at their computers, running tests on various mutations of the antibodies.
* * *
They got lucky. The next day, the cure was ready. Pierre still recommended antibiotics and antipyretics to be administered along with his drug but predicted the people should start getting better within hours. Again, Sarah went over to their improvised hospital and managed the distribution of the drugs.
When she got back, he was still at the computer.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm just… recording the results," he told her. "For the Fleet Medical… Ough…" he moaned, rubbing his temples.
"What is it?"
"Oh," he dismissed her. "It's just a headache."
Sarah came up to him and touched his cheek. "Pierre, you're burning up!" she exclaimed, terrified.
"Yeah, it's kind of hot in here…" he tried to smile, wiping his forehead.
"No, I mean you have a fever! Have you injected yourself?!"
"I… I can't remember…" he stuttered, trying to concentrate.
"You're kidding, right?" Sarah was shocked.
"No… I'm not… I really don't… ugh… Look, just give me the shot, I'll be fine…"
"Come on," she helped him to the bunk. She had to support him because he was tottering on his feet.
"Dizzy…" he tried to explain. "Oaghrr…" he moaned again when she helped him to lie down. "I must have a… king… of all headaches," he mumbled before he lost consciousness.
"How are you feeling?" Pierre heard when he opened his eyes. He had to think for a moment. Each muscle in his body ached and he had trouble breathing. The world was still spinning in front of his eyes and he couldn't see clearly.
"I'm…" he coughed. "I'm sick, right?"
"Looks that way," Sarah confirmed, leaning over to moisten his cracked lips. He licked up the liquid.
"Did you…" he coughed again. "Did you give me the… shot?" he wheezed.
"Yeah," she nodded. "Three days ago."
"Three days?!" Another cough attack rattled his entire body. When he looked at his palm, he saw blood… "Does… does this mean I was out…"
"No. You were drifting in and out of consciousness," she told him. "But you have a high fever. I've been here all the time."
"Sarah…" It was so hard for him to speak but he had to tell her. "It means that… the virus mutated again?"
"I know," she took his hand. "The good news is that you're still alive. Your drug worked only partially, though. But now that I know how, I'm working on the new antibodies.
"Has anyone else…"
She understood him in mid-sentence. "No," she reassured him. "Just you. Everybody else is getting better now."
"Good." Pierre felt so tired that all he wanted was to get some sleep. But he couldn't. Sarah's best intentions and her eagerness to work were not enough to… "May I see the results?" he asked.
She went over to the computer and came back a moment later, handing him an electronic notepad. He was barely strong enough to hold out his hand but the pad slipped from his fingers and landed on the blanket. She took it and held it in front of his eyes. Pierre turned away. His vision was too blurred to decipher the readouts.
"Take… take the red syringe from my… med kit," he panted. "And give me the shot."
Something in his voice made her stop. "What for?" she asked.
"Just… do it," he really was too weak to explain. He hoped she'd understand. "And then… just set the computer to autodestruct and leave…"
"What the hell are you talking about?" she yelled at him when she did understand.
"It's a… painless… poison," he coughed again. "We can't risk… spreading the new… mutation…"
"You don't trust that I'll find the cure for you, do you?" she shook her head with a sad smile.
"Sarah… please…" he tried but he couldn't speak anymore. "Just…" Everything went dark in front of his eyes and he passed out before he finished the sentence.
* * *
"Pierre? Pierre, can you hear me?"
Lafayette opened his eyes. He still couldn't see clearly but his breathing was easier.
"How… long?"
"Two days," Sarah told him. "Five altogether. But you'll be fine now," she smiled. "The fever is going down already."
He did his best to focus his eyes on her and was finally able to make out her face.
"Did you…?" He was still so weak that he could barely speak. But Sarah understood.
"No, you did," she said, stroking his hair. "I just set your computer to automatically repeat all the DNA sequences you had tried and one of them matched. How are you feeling?"
"Terrible," he panted but did his best to smile at her. "You… saved my life…"
"Thanks to your research."
"No. Thanks to your… stubbornness."
He started trembling. "It's cold…"
"That's because of your fever," she replied, adjusting the blanket. "Get some sleep now, you'll feel better soon."
* * *
For the next couple of days, Lafayette was slowly getting better. He was so emaciated by the fever that he could hardly sit up in the bed without her help. Sarah fed him and cleaned up for him, taking care of all his needs. But he was getting better.
Finally, on the third day, when he was resting after dinner, Sarah sat up on the bed and asked.
"Who is Yvonne?"
She saw such an agony in his eyes that she regretted mentioning it the moment these words escaped her lips. "You kept on… repeating this name in your fever ravings…"
"She… she was my reason for quitting medicine," Pierre said softly.
"Your sister?"
"My… wife. She died because I couldn't help her. That's why I don't…" He looked away.
"Pierre, you love medicine."
"I hate it," he shook his head.
"No, you don't," Sarah insisted. "I've been watching you. It's losing the patients you hate but medicine is your passion."
Lafayette sighed heavily. "It used to be."
"Until?"
"Sarah…"
"Until she died, right?" she asked softly.
"I… I don't want to talk about it."
"All right," she puffed, getting up. "I guess it's none of my business," she added wryly. "But I really think you should talk about it. If not to me, than to someone else. This isn't going to go away, you know…"
Pierre closed his eyes but he couldn't sleep. *This is not going to go away, she said. Of course it isn't…*
He doubted if it ever would. But talking about it… heh! David told him the same thing not long ago. Everyone wanted him to talk about it. About what? Why? To bring it all back again, to relive every minute of it? His moment of premonition when Yvonne had mentioned the excursion? His negligence to check her equipment before she took off? He couldn't have, he had an urgent call from the clinic and she couldn't wait… Pierre sighed.
Perhaps the moment when the beep sounded at night and he knew, he just knew, that something had happened to her? His wild attempts to revive her even when, deep inside, he already knew that he was looking at nothing but a corpse?
Talk about it. He had talked about it a lot, the counselor at the hospital recorded his every word. Did it help? Now, so many years later, it hurt just as much as the first moment he had realized that Yvonne was dead. No, he didn't want to talk about it. He wanted to forget about it. He wanted…
* * *
Pierre Lafayette didn't want any celebrations. The moment he felt strong enough to stand up and move around on his own, all he wanted was to take off and head back to the wilderness where he could be away from people. All people.
But he couldn't. They were grateful to him for saving them, they wanted to thank him. The party was supposed to start in the evening and last until dawn. With bonfires, flowers and dances… he cringed at the very thought of being in the center of attention. But he had to grin and bear it.
When he arrived at the village, everything was ready. On the main square, there were already garlands of flowers everywhere. A group of the elders came up to greet him with bunches of more flowers. Behind them, a whole procession was forming. A pile of gifts, from handmade cloths to loafs of bread and bottles of wine grew beside him as he stood there, with a smile glued to his lips, and shook one hand after another, looked into their eyes and listened to the words of gratitude for saving someone's daughter, brother, spouse…
He couldn't help but think how many he hadn't saved. Nobody mentioned their losses but he knew the funerals, the ritual burnings, had ended just the previous day. Sarah had been there, too. He couldn't.
Finally, they allowed him to take the seat of honor at the biggest fire, on an ornamental chair, a throne almost. He looked around.
The sun was already setting down, casting its last golden rays all over the forest, the square and the huts. Yes, they were more of huts than houses, made of wood, with thatched roofs and no fences. The people around him all wore handmade robes in various shades of gray and blue. Someone brought a guitar and the music sounded.
Like it was a court ball, he was asked to open the dances. That was something he could do. Being a good dancer, he didn't mind folk dances on hardened soil. He only briefly thought when was the last time he had danced. He chased that thought away before he could think who he had danced with…
Pierre bowed at Sarah and led her to the middle of the improvised dance floor. The music was lively so he twirled and spun her around while everybody clasped.
He was really hoping that, after that dance, they'd leave him alone, let him sit there for a while and then sneak away quietly. No such luck. The moment he kissed Sarah's palm and led her back to her place, another girl approached him. It was Zoe, the red haired girl who had helped him. He couldn't refuse to dance with her.
The music was slower this time. She threw her arms around him and held him tight. Pierre was glad that other pairs stepped out and surrounded them. He tried to keep some distance between himself and the girl but she kept on leaning closer. Resigned, he just embraced her and started rocking gently to the rhythm.
"You're an amazing man," she whispered into his ear. He winced.
"Thank you, my dear," he told her.
"No, I mean it," she rubbed his neck caressingly. Pierre flinched. "I like you," she tickled his ear. "I like you a lot…"
He just waited until the dance was over and then led her back to her place as soon as he could. He caught a rather dreamy glance from yet another girl… Anita, he remembered the name. The other of Sarah's friends. Before she rose, he went over to one of the bonfires where a group of young men sat and invited himself between them. He quickly took some fruit one of them offered him and started eating.
He spent the next couple of hours walking from one group to another, picking mostly males or elders as his company. Most of the girls kept on dancing with other guys, he spotted Sarah with Kyle once or twice and smiled to himself. Zoe's eyes were fixed on him most of the time and it really made him uncomfortable. He felt even more uneasy every time his eyes met Anita's. Finally, she crossed his path as he was moving to another group of people.
"You don't like dancing, Doctor Lafayette?" she asked quietly.
"Not particularly," he lied with an apologetic smile.
"But you danced with Zoe?" she insisted. "Would you do me…"
"Maybe later," Pierre nodded at her, looking for an escape route. "Why don't you ask some of the boys over there?" he pointed her to a group of boys. "I'll be happy to play something nice for you."
He bowed, leaving Anita in the middle of the square and quickly walked over to the man with the guitar. They exchanged a few words and he soon had the instrument in his hands. He toned it a little and, when everybody fell silent, he said.
"You have all thanked me for saving your lives tonight. But, it wouldn't have been possible without your help. Especially, the help of one of you who kept me alive," he pointed at Sarah and she blushed as everyone started cheering. "I'd like to dedicate this song for her…"
Pierre sat down, propping the guitar on his thigh and started singing:

"I go out most nights attracted by the lights
Listen to the jazz at Harry’s bar
And I know it won’t be long before they play that song
Do you know how wonderful you are?
It’s a sentimental sound that make me wanna fool around
With somebody who is wishing on a star
I’ll pull my hat down low go up and say hello
Do you know how wonderful you are?
I’ve always struggled with the art of conversation
And there’ll be those for whom the song has no appeal
But I know it works for me and I’m sure you will agree
That it illustrates exactly how I feel
Things can happen fast and some things are built to last
I’ve seen it all go down in Harry’s bar
And though we’ve only just begun this show will run and run
Do you know how wonderful you are?"

It was a sentimental country song with a tone of blues. His favorite singer from the 20th century. He smiled, seeing Sarah in Kyle's arms.
After the song was over, people asked him for more. That was another thing he liked, singing and playing the guitar. For the rest of the night, he played for them.
* * *
"Pierre?" Sarah approached him the next day, when he was finally getting ready to leave.
"Yes?" he smiled at her.
"Couldn't you stay another day or two? Zoe's been asking about you…"
Pierre sighed. Yeah, that sure was what he had been dreaming about…
"I'd rather take off as soon as possible," he told her.
Sarah sat down at the bunk and tilted her head to take a look at him. "Could you take me with you?"
"Take you where?" he asked suspiciously
"Oh, I don't really care," she shrugged. "Just some civilized planet? I want to pick up my studies again." Pierre relaxed visibly while she continued. "Earth would be perfect but I guess I can seek transport as soon as we're a little closer than here?"
"I'm glad you decided to do that," he said with a smile. "But I'm afraid I'm not going back anywhere near civilization at the moment. You should better wait for that Fleet Medical ship. They should be here in two days, you can ask them for a ride."
"May I ask you something?" Sarah leaned back crossing her legs, with her eyes still fixed on his face.
This didn't sound like a casual question. She was at it again. *Yet another amateur counselor,* he thought bitterly. But, she deserved his honesty. After all, she had saved his life. Stifling a sigh, he sat next to her and looked at her expectantly.
"I noticed last night that you're avoiding women?" she started hesitantly.
"I'm not avoiding you," he shrugged, already knowing where this was going to.
"No, not me," she agreed, pulling up her knees and propping her chin on them. "But other girls?"
"You're… different."
"How?"
"I don't know… you're… open," he paused, looking for the right words. "Honest. You're not playing games with me."
Sarah laughed. "You mean I'm not flirting with you?"
"Yeah, maybe…"
"That's because I don't find you attractive…"
"Gee, thanks!" Now he had to laugh.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"
"No, that's okay," Pierre waved his hand. "I… I guess I prefer it this way. Yeah, you're honest." He nodded.
Sarah thought for a moment before she said. "Do you really think that flirting is dishonest?"
Pierre opened his mouth and then closed it again, frowning. "I don't know," he said after a pause, with an uneasy smile. "I guess I just… I don't understand it very well," he admitted, embarrassed. "I don't have a lot of experience…"
Sarah opened her eyes wide. He wasn't her type, true. And he did look kind of old. But she couldn't say she blamed Zoe for being interested in him. In a way, he was pretty handsome. It was hard to believe that he would…
"You mean you never flirted with a woman?" she said with disbelief. "Not even your wife?" she asked when he shook his head.
"We… grew up together," he told her. "Heh! Come to think of it, I'm not even sure if I ever dated her properly." He smiled sadly to his thoughts. "I guess we never even noticed when your playing together became dating," he continued quieter when Sarah didn't say anything. "No… we never flirted. When I asked her to marry me, I already knew she'd say yes. We… we were meant for each other, I guess. And we both knew it…"
He fell silent. Sarah turned away from him, thinking. *So that's it,* she realized. *That's the mystery. He must be over a hundred but has all the experience of a… a teenager when it comes to life. Or love,* it dawned on her.
"Pierre," she said softly. "Flirting isn't necessarily about lying, you know?"
"I never said that," he shrugged, snapped back from his own thoughts. "I only said I'm not very good at it and… and I don't want to hurt anybody."
*And get hurt yourself in the process,* she thought.
"There are all kinds of women out there," she tried to explain. "Some, like me, will see only a friend in you. Others won't probably even like you. Others still will only look to have some fun with you. Like Zoe." She saw him tense when he heard the name but she went on nevertheless. "I know her. She'd love a date or two, holding hands, kissing… maybe even a fling, but that's it. No broken hearts, no hard feelings when you part… Trust me. I know her."
Lafayette watched her carefully for a while, pondering on what she just said.
"How about this other friend of yours?" he asked. "How about Anita?"
"Oh no," Sarah shook her head firmly. "That's a totally different story. She's more serious, if you know what I mean. Anita isn't looking for fun. She's looking for love. You could easily have some fun with Zoe but if you tried the same thing with her…"
"I'd hurt her," Pierre nodded. "See, that's my point," he looked right into her eyes. "I just can't tell one from the other… not to mention there are all shades of gray in between those two extremes…"
"Well, I don't think you'll learn that in those wild places you insist on going to…"
"No, I guess not," he chuckled. "And you, Sarah?" he asked more seriously. "I know you're not interested in me but which type are you? Looking for fun or for love?"
Sarah looked up at him. "I'm waiting, I guess," she said softly.
"For the love of your life?"
"Yeah. For him to grow up, actually. You see," she shifted a little to make herself more comfortable. "Right now he's kind of… Zoe type. I suppose I'm waiting for him to mature?"
"Will you tell me who it is?" asked Pierre. "I made friends with some of the guys last night. Not that I'm an expert on male characters but…"
"It's Kyle," she said quickly as if she wanted to spill it and get it over with.
"Kyle? The one who…?
"Yes."
Pierre drew a sudden breath. "You're not kidding, right?"
"Why would I?" she shrugged, looking away. "We're talking as friends here, aren't we? You were honest with me, why wouldn't I be?"
"Because…" He realized she couldn't have noticed. "Wait, let me show you something," he said getting up to turn the computer on. He tapped a few commands and, a moment later, a couple of photos appeared on the screen. "Just take a look at these," he said quietly.
Sarah stood behind him and glanced on the monitor over his shoulder. The photos were of a young boy, twenty something, with a striking resemblance…
"Who is this guy?" she asked, curiously. "He looks like he could be Kyle's brother?"
"It's me." Pierre swiveled his chair to face her. "Thirty years ago."

 

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