They were essentially living two lives; the life outside The Game, and the life inside The Game. Life in the Game was far preferred for both of them, and they wondered, during pauses if they could continue to be together outside the confines of the rules they’d set forth—perhaps take his craft and escape into the ungoverned zones.
But life outside The Game was always pulling. Bob had responsibilities to whoever else his criminal activities involved him with, and true to his nature, he was loyal to them. As for herself, there was always the chance her daughter was still out there, her name left in the wrong file on the wrong computer, waiting to show up again.
“Pause—“ She said a few months later while they were reading one of Bob’s books to each other. “Do you think it would be possible for me to join you in your exploits if I left my job? I have no particular fondness for it.”
They were both desperately trying to find a way to merge the puzzle pieces of their lives in a way that worked. Bob considered it, folding his arms over his camel hair coat. “What I do is dangerous for two reasons: the people I deal with and the prospect of jail. I hear survival rates for the incarcerated has plummeted.”
As a police officer, she knew this was true; “The GalGov doesn’t have the funds to keep them alive. They prefer them to perish. Survival rate is only 30% for those imprisoned over a year.”
He laughed a little, shutting the book. “Why tell me this? Now I definitely don’t want you to leave the Desert.”
She was still in her armor from earlier that day, and she fed the Kliig, which was still on her arm. She fed both heads, though she was sure it all went to the same stomach. The first head watched Bob and the second head bobbed up and down at his words. Truth.
“I told you because I’m willing to take the risk.” She said adamantly, “Oh… Sorry about the Kliig. It’s not supposed to be around when we’re talking, but I was late feeding it today.” Now it was staring at her. Truth.
“I don’t even want to imagine you in jail.” Truth. “I also know that most jails make no difference of gender to save funds. The thought of—I don’t even want to say it. Let it just be said that my hands are the only pair that belong on you.” Truth.
Jarrett gave him a smile, and sat next to him. He continued; “I know you’re willing to take a risk, but I don’t think you’re ready to be part of my other life.”
“I’m ready.” She said. Bob looked over her left shoulder. He shook his head slowly, a smile of his own tugging at the corner of his lips, “you almost had me there.”
The Kliig’s second head was moving from left to right. Liar.
The Game continued for a year, and Jarrett hadn’t paused since the night the Kliig told her she was lying. Every single evening Bob would come home after the Desert was closed to travelers, or slightly before. They read dozens of books, watched movies, and chatted for hours about whatever came to mind. Sometimes Bob would feel extra romantic and bring her flowers.
The back room of the office where they slept had become adorned with personal items; artwork Bob had found in his travels, a bigger quilt an older woman had sold Jarrett on her way to the ungoverned territories, a Christian cross and a Jewish Star of David, and a small nightstand that always held the most current book they were reading to each other.
Every night their love for each other increased, and every night before bed, Jarrett would go to the terrarium, look into the eyes of the first head of the Kliig and say, “I’m ready.” But the second head always shook. Liar.
On the night of their first anniversary, Jarrett nuzzled up to him under the covers. According to The Game, the two had been together for years, so they simply called it their anniversary, omitting the word ‘first’ per the rules.
“Happy anniversary, Dearest.” She said and began kissing him.
“Wait, wait, wait.” He said, having to hold her face away from his. “We’ve been together a long time, yes?”
“Yes. What is it?”
“Maybe we should take this to the next level?” He took her left hand from under the sheets and kissed it, then held his thumb and index finger in the air, as if he was holding something imaginary between them. He slipped the imaginary object on to her ring finger.
“That is, if you want to.” His middle-toned voice faltered at her silence.
She’d never loved anyone this much before, and she was concerned it might never take place outside The Game. “Pause—“ she said. “Once I’m ready to join you outside the Desert, will you marry me for real?”
“So far as I’m concerned The Game already is real. It’s just… something that can’t be seen on any records in the GalGov.” Bob said, his voice fading to his usual bedtime whisper. “But yes, once we come to that point I will marry you in a heartbeat.”
She didn’t need the Kliig to know he was telling the truth. If he’d been lying, he would have said, ‘if we come to that point’, not ‘once we come to that point.’ She knew from experience with the father of her daughter that bad men try to disguise lies in ‘ifs’.
“Then… in one year, I will marry you. I swear I’ll be ready. Un-pause.” She said resolutely. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” She repeated again after the pause. She felt she had to say it in The Game, too.
“I believe you.” Bob said, a little sadly. He didn’t want her to enter his other life, treading the laws of the Galactic Government. But, if it was what she wanted, he wasn’t going to stop her. When he’d proposed The Game, he hadn’t even expected it to last so long—indeed, finding his soul mate in a police officer at the age of fifty-two was incredible.
Jarrett had rolled over, and was face-up, going over everything in her head. Bob moved onto his side, just to look at her. Without thinking, he reached out and traced the lines in her face, her muscled arms, the sags in her skin and her frayed hair. He enjoyed these little details.
One morning, a few weeks later, the police arrived at the Desert. Bob had finally been caught.
“And he’s been coming to the Desert for well over a year.” A chief officer said, dragging him by his camel hair coat. He forced Bob’s arms behind him and lassoed his wrists in a pair of metallic cuffs. Jarrett was in her armor. She’d just been about to say goodbye to Bob for the day when they came for him. “You had no idea he was a criminal?” the officer asked.
They’d taken the Kliig from her and the questioning was going easily enough, though her heart was breaking underneath her armor.
“I had an inkling he might be, but I never asked him what he did for a living.” The Kliig, now attached to the arm of a formidable man, nodded its second head. Truth.
“You had no idea that he was escorting criminals, laundering their money, and helping them evade our forces?” The man wanted to be sure.
Jarrett glanced at Bob. He stared back. Even when they’d first met he’d told the truth; he hadn’t stolen, and he hadn’t killed. “I had no idea.” Truth.
The officers shrugged. The one with the Kliig stated, “You got duped by a criminal, miss.”
But she hadn’t been duped at all. She’d agreed to The Game, and within those parameters, Bob had always told her the truth. They’d shared over a year’s worth of a true and loving relationship, and now those same parameters of The Game were protecting her from incarceration.
As strange as the whole thing was, her short life with Bob, a criminal, had been more true than that of the law-abiding father of her daughter.
It was only by pure force of will that she kept her eyes from tearing up or her voice from cracking. “Eh. These things happen. Can I say good-bye to him anyway? We had some good times.”
The chief shrugged again. “No skin off my nose. We’ll be following up with you in a few months.” Jarrett doubted that. She was sure that the officers would make a footnote of her in their report, that footnote would get lost, and they’d never return. For Bob, however, punishment would be swift.
The Kliig was handed back to her, and it wrapped itself dutifully about her arm. She walked up to Bob, who was unable to stand up straight—the enormous hand of an alien officer was on his back, keeping him slightly bent.
She didn’t want the officers to catch wind of their intense love affair, lest they suspect something more than what was, so she chose her words carefully. She leaned in, her jaw aching from keeping the emotions at bay. “Was The Game real?”
His voice broke a bit, and he was so quiet she almost couldn’t hear him. “Yes.”
The Kliig’s second head nodded dutifully. The officer didn’t understand the question and yawned in boredom.
Jarrett couldn’t say more for fear of crying, so she held up her left hand so that the back was facing him. The index of her right hand traced where the invisible band was on her left ring finger. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
After that, they took him away.
It was difficult, but Jarrett continued her duties at the office for the rest of the day, letting several craft pass through. Finally, after the Desert closed, she wrapped herself in their quilt in the back room and let loose the tears.
Her mind was swimming with thoughts. Memories flitted in and out of her head as she considered Bob’s fate; hoping against hope she could keep track of him in the Galactic Government’s crumbling information system. She found herself chanting his real name as she wept, praying that he wouldn’t disappear; “Hevel Adelman, Hevel Adelman, Hevel Adelman.”
Finally, after a few hours, Jarrett ran out of tears and reached for the library book on the nightstand. She opened it to where they’d left off and a note fell out. It had been hurriedly scribbled—most likely Bob had written it when he saw the police approaching.
It read, Dearest Desert Defender, would you please return this book for me when you’re Ready?
He had purposefully capitalized that R, she knew. She leapt out of bed and knelt before the terrarium, staring into the eyes of the first head of the Kliig. “I’m Ready.”
The second head stayed still for a moment, then nodded up and down.
She knew then the reason she wasn’t ready before; it was true she loved him enough to take a risk, but she was only truly ready when she feared for him enough. Now The Game was over—no, not over, but merged with her other life so that the two could no longer be kept separate. A third life had begun.
The next morning, Jarrett called in sick with the Thumeran Toxin, which would buy her a few weeks off the job. She took her police uniform, armor, and her Kliig, thinking they might come in handy. Her destination was the Gor Quasar Library. No doubt some of Bob’s acquaintances frequented there, and hopefully they’d be willing to help get him back.
Her craft sped into space, headed for the Gor System, leaving the Desert, closed down and dark behind her.
-- End
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