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Red’s furious, and heartbroken, and that idiot took off in the middle of the night to go wherever it is heartbroken idiots go instead of waiting ‘til she could join him and keep him from doin’ somethin’ stupid. Or help him do somethin’ stupid, whichever came first.
He’s gone, though, and he didn’t leave a note but he did leave his fool horse at her little campsite just outside of town.
Red throws herself a good ol’ fashioned tantrum for a few minutes, and it helps about as much as they always do, which is to say not very much. She sighs, and tries to calm herself down by brushin’ Mercury.
“Sorry about all the noise. Hope I didn’t spook you too bad.”
“It’s alright,” Mercury says, in English, with his mouth.
Oh Nevada, what the Hell.
*
“I knew he was lying,” Croach says, but he doesn’t sound quite as smug as usual. He’s taking Sparks leaving harder than she is, for any number of reasons. “I knew the radiation had not dissipated.”
“He wasn’t lying,” Mercury says, “I was. He was uncomfortable with me talking, so I stopped.”
“Sparks Nevada is uncomfortable with a great many things,” Croach says, and Red is gonna strangle Sparks with his own robot fists when he gets back.
“You can talk to us all you want,” Red tells him, and she ain’t entirely sure but she thinks he smiles.
*
For all the time she’s spent ridin’, Red’s never actually owned a horse. G’loot kids grow up with wild horses for lookin’ at and hoversaddles for ridin’ on; Red herself grew up hatin’ the hoversaddle that always seemed to work against her, and lovin’ the horses that always gentled for her.
It’s easier to avoid bein’ tied down when you can just rope a steed whenever you want and let it go whenever you don’t.
Red’s been tyin’ herself to this town so gradually she didn’t really notice until Nevada took off, though, so what’s one more responsibility?
“Have you heard from him?” Mercury keeps askin’, and Red hates to disappoint him, but she likes that he asks. Croach won’t even say Sparks’ name, and that makes it too easy to be angry. Good to be reminded why it’s worth carin’ what happens to him.
“I’ve gone the way he’s goin’,” Red says, “and it ain’t always easy to get a message back to who you leave behind.”
*
“Marshal, you have a call from Sparks Nevada.”
“Really?” Red drops the pen she ain’t usin’ to fill out a stack of casualty reports she’s let pile up. “Well put him through!”
Nevada looks terrible, exhausted all the way through his bones, broke down in a way she ain’t never seen before. This can’t be good.
“She’s gone, Red.”
“Oh, Nevada.”
“Not even - she ain’t even gone, she never was. She was a spy the whole time, the whole goddamn time.”
Red doesn’t know what to say, ain’t really anything anyone could say to that.
“So I guess - I guess that’s it.”
Red nods. “You comin’ home, then? Gettin’ back to normal might - “
“I’m goin’ back to Earth, Red, I’m done.”
“What?”
“I can’t go back to Mars.”
“Like Hell you can’t.”
Nevada laughs, high and desperate, nothin’ like his usual. “You mind keepin’ an eye on Mercury?”
“If I say no, will you come home?”
“Don’t be like that.”
Red sighs. “Of course I will.”
“Can I talk to Croach?”
Croach is goin’ through somethin’, somethin’ so deep Red ain’t even sure exactly what it is. He’s started meditatin’ again, like he never stopped, and she’s caught him awake in the middle of the night in serious conversation with Mercury more than once. He’s outside right now, refillin’ the trough or brushin’ Mercury’s mane or just starin’ down Main Street lookin’ for somethin’ unnameable.
“He ain’t around right now.”
“Oh.”
“You can call again.”
“Yeah,” Sparks says, and somehow Red knows he won’t. “Of course. Uh, goodbye, Red. Thanks.”
“Goodbye, Nevada.”
*
“Croach says he’s not coming back.”
For the first night in a while, she’s more restless than Croach, tossin’ and turnin’ up a storm while he slept more peacefully than he has since Nevada’s wedding. It’s probably a good sign; it’s the way it always used to be. Maybe things’ll actually get back to normal now, at least as close as they can.
Both moons are full, shinin’ bright on the smolderin’ campfire, on Red, on Mercury.
“I’m sure he’ll be back eventually,” she says, but she ain’t sure she actually means it.
“You wanna talk about it?”
Mercury’s just watchin’ her, the way horses do, lookin’ right into her soul like he knows everythin’ about her.
“Yeah,” she says, and sits on the ground in front of him. “I really do.”