Quite a few women tried to seduce Lafayette in one way or another during those years. Not all of them, naturally, but he was always amazed at how young women, many of whom could have been his daughters or even grand daughters, were attracted to him. He tried to avoid it at first, feeling flattered of course, but never taking them seriously. However, there was one woman, albeit not that young, whom he had to take seriously.
Towards the end of his research, he worked under the supervision of Admiral Tarr, a half-Centaurian female.
The Centaurians were one of a few humanoid species which, along with the Irradi and Mantagans, had joined the Alliance and became a part of the civilized world. They were extremist vegetarians, notorious for their directness and amazing lack of empathy for human emotions. Even more amazing, since they were natural telepaths. Therefore, many people suspected them to be deliberately rude. Those who knew them closer, however, realized that this was not the case. The Centaurians were simply unable to understand emotions.
Being a geneticist herself, Admiral Tarr was also Pierre's mentor in the last stages of his work. Therefore, he couldn't really refuse when she asked him out to dinner, even if he cringed at the very thought of Centaurian cuisine. He had to grin and bear it, so he did his best not to offend his hostess.
After the dreaded herb soup, Lafayette was nibbling at some salad, dreaming about at least a pinch of salt and pepper, when Admiral Tarr looked at him carefully with her piercing eyes and asked suddenly:
"What are you running away from?"
Lafayette almost dropped his fork. "I beg your pardon?"
"I asked what it is that you're running away from," she repeated her question patiently.
"I heard you, Admiral," he replied quietly. "I just didn't understand..."
"All these people around you," she explained flatly. "The loud music, alcohol, women. It's all there to help you forget about something, is it not?"
"I..." Lafayette wasn't really surprised with her directness. They had worked together for quite some time now and he knew she was only half Centaurian... but it only made her even more unbearable at times. "I don't think I'm running away," he replied finally, stabbing at something on his plate that looked like a tomato, but he knew it would still taste like paper.
"Professor," Tarr scolded him. "You may be young but I know you're not stupid..."
"Heh!" Lafayette chuckled. "Young? I haven't heard that one in a while..."
"Compared to me." She raised her eyebrow. The Centaurians' life span was about 700 years. She must have been pretty old.
"Of course, Admiral," Pierre agreed reluctantly. He was beginning to feel like a student and he didn't like it.
"Anyway," she continued, after pouring herself a glass of water, "I would like to know why you are fighting your emotions. Right now, for example, you are clearly anxious. I assume you don't like talking about yourself?"
Lafayette wished for a smallest drop of some good wine but he had to content himself with water as well. "Look, Admiral," he told her after he gulped down half of the glass in one go. "I appreciate your... counseling talents but I don't think I require a therapy. My lifestyle... I guess I just enjoy it."
"Do you, really?" her cold eyes were drilling him now. "I don't think so. But I do believe that talking about your problems might do you good. If you insist on hiding them, sooner or later your emotions will catch up with you and bite you real hard. So," she finished, reclining in her chair. "I'm listening."
Lafayette stared at her for a moment, as if pondering her offer. Finally, he shook his head. "Thank you," he said with an apologetic smile. "But, no."
"No, you don't want to talk about it?"
"No, there is nothing to talk about," he parried. But he had clearly underestimated her.
"I read your files," she told him calmly.
"Yes?" Lafayette tensed. He didn't like that. He didn't like it at all.
"You're a widower, aren't you?" she pushed.
"I am," he confirmed through a tight throat. "But that..."
"You believe you're responsible for your wife's death, don't you?"
The way she said it, her dispassionate voice, threw him off balance. Even after all these years, it still hurt so badly… Lafayette clenched his fists under the table and swallowed, before replying. "With all due... respect, Admiral. This is really none of your business."
Despite his huge effort, he realized he sounded neither respectful nor calm. He couldn't help it anymore. "My private life is... my own," he said in a trembling voice. "Please, excuse me," he added, getting up. He only managed to nod at her briefly and stormed out of the restaurant.
The moment he found himself outside, he started running. People turned around to look at him but he didn't see them. He was just running as fast as he could. He was running like hell but he couldn't escape the tears in his eyes.
* * *
The next morning he woke up feeling sick and dizzy and he knew it wasn't only because of all the wine. When he had finally managed to drink himself cold, he'd still wake up with a scream every hour or so. Images of Yvonne falling off of the cliff, the fear in her eyes as she realized what's happening, his own hand missing her fingers by a notch, her open skull... and the words that rang through his head all night: "You are responsible for your wife's death," all this was more than he could take.
Lafayette stumbled out of the bed with a groan and forced himself to sit at the computer. His final report was almost ready. All it took was adding the latest results and he was free. He started filing his resignation when he heard the door bell chime.
"Enter," he said reluctantly. And he closed his eyes at the smell that filled the room the moment the door opened.
"I thought you could use some breakfast,"  he heard a familiar voice.
Miranda was a cute kid, barely over twenty, who had basically moved in to one of his guest rooms a few months earlier. She studied art at the local university and she had decided that his apartment was far more convenient than the hostel. Lafayette didn't mind.
"Thank you, my dear," he replied in a stifled voice. "It's sweet of you," he managed a smile as she put the plate in front of him.
"You look like shit," she told him with disarming honesty.
"Thanks," Lafayette snorted. "Too much wine last night," he added when she shot him a worried look.
"Can I do anything?" she asked.
"No, thanks," he shook his head. "I'm busy right now..."
When the door closed behind her, he drew a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. But he couldn't. The memory that attacked him with the smell of scrambled eggs didn't fade away. He had to remember every single detail...
It was a sunny morning, pretty much like today. He was also sitting at the computer in his study when the door opened and someone walked in quietly. Lafayette smiled to himself but he pretended not to have noticed anything. Yvonne sneaked up behind his back and covered his eyes with one hand while putting the plate on the desk.
"Guess who?" she whispered playfully and screamed with delight when he swiveled his chair and caught her up in his arms. He spend the next hour convincing her that he sure was hungry but scrambled eggs were not enough to satisfy him...
The door opened again, snapping him back to reality. He didn't have time to turn around and hide his tears.
"I... I forgot about the coffee," Miranda stuttered, surprised. "Pierre... what's wrong?" she asked softly, putting the steaming cup on his desk. "What happened?"
"Nothing," he barked without looking at her. "Leave me alone, please."
"Can I...?"
"Just get out!" he yelled, unable to control himself anymore.
* * *
Two hours later, he rang at her door. When he entered, she was curled up on the sofa, reading something. Her swollen eyes were proof enough that she'd been crying but she smiled seeing him.
"Miranda," he said gently, sitting beside her. "I'm sorry I snapped at you like that..."
"That's okay," she told him, putting the notepad away.. "We all have our down times..."
"Look, I actually came to say goodbye... You can have the apartment all to yourself now, if you want..."
"Where are you going?" she looked up at him.
"I... I don't know yet."
"Oh... When are you coming back, then?"
"I'm not planning to."
"Why? What happened?" she sat up, surprised.
"Nothing," Lafayette shook his head. "My work is almost done, it's time to move on, I guess," he smiled at her.
"But..." she was stunned. "Why... why so suddenly?"
"Heh! Must be my nature, I guess," he winked, trying to cheer her up. "I've never been one to stick in one place for too long..."
"Could I... could you take me with you?" Miranda whispered, looking hopefully into his eyes.
Lafayette didn't understand. "Take you with me?" he repeated.
"I... I could cook you breakfast every morning...?"
"Ah..." He realized that it was really high time to move on.
"Miranda..." he began with a heavy sigh. "You're a sweet kid. You should find yourself a nice boyfriend and... I wouldn't be a good company for you."
"I don't want a boyfriend," she told him softly, her eyes still locked on his face. "I want you, Pierre, I..."
"Don't," he winced. "Don't say anything you'll regret later..."
"I love you," she said nevertheless, and he felt pain stinging through his heart at these words.
That night, after he managed to settle all his matters, Lafayette took a shuttle and nobody saw him on Earth ever again.

* * *

For the next few years he tried to get back to his life on the road, visiting wild places, constantly moving. But it wasn't working anymore. *I must be getting old,* he thought to himself and laughed bitterly. A few glasses of wine weren't enough to wash that bitterness down either, nor did they chase away his nightmares anymore.
Once, Lafayette landed his shuttle on the third planet of the Antanga system. The climate was sunny but pretty mild, lots of plant life, no high mountains he dreaded so much... and vineyards. The whole planet was basically one, huge vineyard, exporting the best wine in the area. He immediately decided he liked the place. Good wine was something Lafayette had always appreciated.
The planet was inhabited by humans for the most part but quite a few other Alliance races were represented too. Walking through the streets of a small town, he saw the Irradi, Mantagans, Gurlans and even a few Centaurians. Off the beaten path, the system was still close enough to main trade routes and the planet had every modern commodity one could think of.
Lafayette soon discovered that the main means of transport there were hovercrafts. He rented one and decided it was all the more fun. You could either drive it on your own or just lock the computer on the particular address and wait for the vehicle to take you there. He toured the whole town as well as the surrounding areas. Week after week went by and he didn't feel like leaving the place.
One day, he met an old man who was looking for someone to take over his land, as he was ready to move in with his children. One look at the property was enough for Lafayette to make up his mind. The vineyards were among the best. A lake, with parats as a local attraction, was only an additional bonus.
Parats were huge water mammals, even more intelligent than dolphins on Earth, but just as friendly. While they looked scary, resembling giant, blue octopuses more than anything else, they loved playing with people. After only a few days spent in his new home, Lafayette already knew the mother, the father and their young offspring. He would spend hours on end on the beach, playing and wrestling with them.
The house was a two storied white building, situated on a small hill in the middle of a sunny valley with gentle slopes that were covered with the vineyards, all belonging to Pierre now. There was a large living room on the first floor, with a study and a couple of guest rooms. The master bedroom and five more guest rooms were situated on the second floor.
White walls and bright, elm tree furniture gave the interior a solid and clean look which Lafayette loved. He never changed anything inside the house, except for adding a massive fireplace in the living room. Apart from these, rather conservative features, the house was also equipped with the computer, converters and automatic cleaning system as any modern house these days.
Pierre's favorite place was the bedroom. At first glance, it was just an ordinary room but everything there was automated. With one switch he could extend a huge bed from the wall or put it back there, exposing spacious wardrobes, blind the windows, dim the lights, launch the computer music...
All the comforts notwithstanding, there was also an Irradi couple living there: Monica, the housekeeper and Jag, the gardener. With the machines to take care of the grapes, it struck Lafayette as an ideal place to retire.
Retirement, however, was something that apparently didn't sit well with him. A few months after he had moved in to his new mansion, he realized that he was missing the constant noise and crowd of partying people.
* * *
That night, as many before that, Pierre was spending at a local bar, over a glass of red wine. Listening to some rather bland background music, he looked around. A group of younger men were playing pool. A few couples were dancing lazily. None of the girls sitting at the bar caught his attention until he saw a lovely brunette in the far corner.
Lafayette gasped when she looked back at him. She didn't resemble Yvonne, not in the facial features. But she had the same playful sparkle in her dark eyes, the same innocent smile... Lafayette felt his hand shake as he raised his glass, looking away from her. He gulped down the wine and waved at the barkeep to pour him more. Suddenly, the music stopped and a warm sound of a guitar played as a female voice started singing:
"I know you well and I believe
You've got the strength, to do most anything
And every time, I'm in your arms
I know I'm somewhere, that's safe from harm..."
He trembled when he looked around to see the brunette with the microphone. She was singing to him, looking him straight in the eyes and he felt mesmerized by her deep, lovely voice.
"You hide your pain, so well from view
But that's one thing, that you don't have to do
You cry inside, where no one sees
I'll dry those tears, if you just let me"
Her dark eyes were locked on his as if she wanted to tell him something. Pierre swallowed hard, as his eyes went up and down her shapely body, while she swayed gently to the slow rhythm. The soft music, and the sound of her voice made him feel someone special. He chuckled at that thought but it returned when he looked in her eyes again.
"You don't have to be the strong one all the time
Let me be the one you lean on, ease your mind
It's not you against the world all alone
I'm here by your side..."
She received a loud applause and returned to her corner at the bar, smiling at him. Lafayette took his glass and followed her.
"May I?" he asked quietly. She nodded at him.
"You have a lovely voice," he told her, sitting down.
"Thank you," she smiled warmly and turned around to face him.
"I liked that song, too..."
"Oh, it was just a random pick," she laughed. "I like country... But tell me, do you come here often?"
"Just recently."
"I thought so," she laughed warmly. "I'd have remembered such a handsome guy."
For the first time in years, Pierre  blushed. He was glad his beard, sideburns and mustache of graying hair covered half of his face. He still hid the rest of it behind his glass while she looked at him.
"Wanna dance?" she asked.
"I'd love to," he replied instantly, offering her his arm.

When she leaned on him, he felt the warmth of her body next to his and, for some reason, he felt tears welling up in his eyes. He blinked them away and lowered his head to touch her hair with his lips. They danced in silence for a long while. The way she moved in his embrace, how she reacted to him, awakened something inside him he had long forgotten about. It wasn't the first girl he had ever danced with but somehow it felt... fresh. Different.
"What's your name?" he asked, out of breath.
"Pamela," the brunette whispered into his ear.

* * *
They spent the next couple of hours drinking together and chatting about nothing. Lafayette felt completely under her spell. When he asked her to dance again, she moved real close and ran her fingers through his beard and down his neck.
"Want to get out of here?" she asked softly.
Lafayette, unable to speak, only nodded.
"Your place or my hotel?"
"I... uhm... I have a house." He forced himself to think straight for a moment. "Half an hour from here..."
"Good," she took him by the arm, smiling. "Let's go."

He almost did it in the hovercraft. He would have, if she hadn't stopped him.
"Oh, I'm sorry..." he began but Pamela only laughed.
"That's okay. I just like to savor the moment... don't you?"
"Oh yeah..." he sighed as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt and started kissing his chest.

He couldn't remember how they got to the house and then to the bedroom. When they were done, he fell back on the pillows next to her, trembling all over.
"Hey, what is it?" Pam asked, surprised by his violent reaction. When she touched his cheek, she found it wet with tears. "What's wrong... Pierre?" She remembered the name he had given her.
He only pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair, trying to regain his composure.
"I... I'm sorry," he whispered, when he could speak again. "It's just... oh, it's been a while," he shook his head.
"Since what?"
"Since I was with a woman," he said, embarrassed. "Don't laugh," he asked quietly when she giggled.
"I'm sorry. I just find it hard to believe. Such a  handsome guy like you?"
"It's true..."
"And how long was this while, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Ugh... a few years," he dismissed half of the century, kissing her face gently.
"Why, are you a priest or something?"
"No," he chuckled. "I'm not a priest."
"So, what happened?"
"It's a long story... Why don't you tell me something about yourself, instead?" he asked, looking into her dark eyes. But Pamela reached out and started caressing him again.
"I don't feel like talking right now," she whispered and Pierre realized that he didn't, either. This time, he was just as passionate as before, only a little less... impatient.
* * *
"Hi, handsome," he heard in the morning. He slowly opened his eyes, stretching lazily under the sheets.
"Hello, beautiful," he smiled and took her hand. "Thank you for the lovely night, my dear," he told her, kissing her palm. He moved his lips up her arm but she sneaked out of his embrace before he reached her shoulder.
"I gotta go," she told him, getting up.
"So soon?" he asked, disappointed. "I thought we'd at least have some breakfast together?"
"Maybe another time," she blew him a kiss in the air, gathering her clothes.
"But I'll see you again?" he insisted.
"Yeah, I hang out in that bar sometimes," she said and disappeared in the bathroom.
Lafayette sighed and fell back on the pillow.
He certainly was no priest. Why he had denied himself the physical pleasures for all these years, he didn't know any more than he knew what it was about Pamela that she led him to bed like on a leash. But the fact remained that he was a widower and he had been one for a long time now. Nothing was going to bring his wife back to life, no matter how much he didn't want to accept that.
Physically, he felt great. Relaxed, like he didn't remember being in decades, Pierre felt some twenty years younger. Emotionally... He closed his eyes tight. No, it was best not to dwell on that. Hearing Pam scouring around in his bathroom already brought more memories than he wanted. He curled up under the sheets, hoping for some more sleep before he would have to face those thoughts again.
That night, he went back to the bar. And the night after it, and the next, too, but Pam was nowhere to be seen. Still, there were other attractive, single girls and Lafayette discovered that some of them didn't mind his company, even though he was a lot older than the crowd hanging out in that place.
By the time he met Pam again, some two months later, he had already had a small group of friends who decided that the parties at his house were much more fun than the bar. Pamela was hoping to spend the night with him but, since she came unannounced, he already had other plans. Luckily, she had a couple of days this time so Pierre had a chance to appreciate her again.

 

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Part 5 New Life

Around AD 2408