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The boy sat lonesomely at the edge of the fire. It was almost enough to make Quaritch feel sorry for him. The rest of the Colonel’s squad were dispersed around the campsite - some setting up comfortable sleeping areas or tapping away on their holopads, but most were congregated around the flames, enjoying a card game or sharing stories. The reflection of the fire in their dark pupils highlighted something deep and dark that Quaritch couldn’t quite put his finger on. Since returning to this life as recombinants, something inside each and everyone of them had changed. Fundamentally they were all different people.
Even Spider. He was no longer the baby that Quaritch remembered with such mixed emotions, but he was still capable of eliciting the same confusing feelings as he had when he was small enough to fit into the palm of Quaritch’s hand. Currently, the teenager looked deep in thought, his chin resting atop his folded up knees, the firelight dancing in the reflection of his mask. He’d been sitting like that for an hour or more, refusing to interact with anyone in the squad.
They’d left him alone, mostly, preferring to let Quaritch himself deal with the kid. Quaritch didn’t know why they seemed wary of interacting with him. It was almost like they were afraid of stepping on Quaritch’s toes. He took a deep sigh, deciding that enough was enough.
Spider didn’t shift as Quaritch approached. He didn’t even look at him. The recom took a seat on the soft ground next to the boy, bracing himself for whatever kind of pissy attitude he was about to mop up.
“You a selective mute or somethin'?”
Spider continued staring forward, although he made half an attempt at a flat eyeroll.
“Ah, you got a lot on your mind,” Quaritch waved a hand in sympathy, speaking as if Spider had just given a full verbal response. He glanced sideways at the boy in time to see Spider chewing the inside of his mouth. The expression was so reminiscent of Paz that for a second Quaritch just stared. Eventually he looked away and let the silence stretch on, trying to think of something else to say. “You gonna sit here feeling sorry for yourself all night, kid?”
Spider closed his eyes in a way that could only be described as condescending.
“You ain’t gonna accomplish anything like this, you know.”
Irritation flickered across Spider’s face. Success.
“You may as well join the circle,” Quaritch pressed in an overly optimistic voice. “Get to know some folks.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
Quarich’s heart sang. He shrugged. “I guess you wouldn’t. But it beats sitting here like a depressed loner.”
“I’ll take depressed loner over a traitor to my people any day, thanks.”
Quaritch let out a low whistle. “Damn, kid. You got some heart. But it ain’t all that. You’re just less likely to be eaten by a wolf if you’re closer to us.”
Finally, Spider turned to him, anger folded into every crease of his face. “You know nothing.”
That stumped Quaritch. He flexed his jaw. “They not in these parts then?”
Spider let out a dry laugh, but didn’t elaborate.
Quaritch was starting to get frustrated. Spider was just a little shit after all. He forced himself to remember that Spider was under a lot of stress, and that he didn’t fully trust the recoms yet. For all the kid knew, they’d abandon him to the wildlife or throw him back in a cell without a second thought.
“You’re feeling it right now, I get it. But come into the circle where I can at least keep an eye on you.”
“Why do you care what happens to me?”
Quaritch frowned. He thought Spider at least remembered the part where he’d pulled him from the neuroscanner. The kid had been out of it, but he must have remembered that it was Quaritch’s arms that carried him back to the cell? He sniffed. “It looks bad on my report, kid. Can’t have people thinking I can’t look after one moody teenager in the field, no matter how obstinate.”
“Your job is not to look after me.”
The confidence with which Spider said the words triggered something… sad inside Quaritch. It was clear the boy didn’t believe Quaritch had a shred of concern for him. “My job is to keep you safe so you can help us. That means protecting you.”
Spider muttered something under his breath - but Quaritch suspected it was Na’vi.
“What was that?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about!”
Spider had turned back to face Quaritch, but the furious expression on his face was water off a duck’s back to the Colonel. “Explain then. You don’t need protection?”
“Faysawtute! Protection from what? From my home? My people?”
Your people? “Pandora’s no place for a kid, Spider.”
Spider made an incredulous gesture, looking around at the forest which had come alive at night. “You have eyes, but you don’t see,” was all he said.
…Right. Quaritch had had enough of playing nice. “Get your ass closer to camp or I’ll drag you myself.”
Spider was clearly fuming, because he balled his fists and then carefully unclenched them, his jaw set and his eyes deep with mutinous thoughts. Quaritch watched the bioluminescence of the moss fade where Spider had been sitting, and immediately missed the boy’s presence, despite Spider doing what he was told. He watched the kid move closer to the campsite, although it still wasn’t quite close enough for Quaritch to be truly satisfied.
It would have to do.
He’d had to seriously consider what he’d do if Spider made a run for it in the night. He suspected the boy could be plotting something, but the type of resentment Spider was currently displaying put Quaritch strangely at ease. It was as if the boy had accepted his fate. Spider was smart after all - he knew that running would achieve nothing.
After a moment, Quaritch pushed himself off the ground and followed Spider back over to the camp. He took a seat next to Wainfleet on a fallen log, making sure the sulking teenager was in his line of sight.
For the rest of the evening, Spider remained distant and solitary, facing away from him and curling up under some kind of giant, glowing mushroom. The sight was so ridiculous it reminded Quaritch of a scene from a fairytale. Only after the final embers had died and ninety percent of the squad had clocked off for the night did Quaritch approach Spider again. Half of him wanted to check if Spider was asleep, the other half was secretly hoping for another chance at conversation.
Quaritch stretched widely and approached Spider’s spot cautiously. If Spider was asleep, he didn’t want to wake him. However quietly he thought he was being, it wasn’t enough. Spider’s head snapped around his body tensed, searching for the source of danger.
“Easy tiger, it’s only me,” Quaritch reassured.
“What do you want now?” Spider half sat up, the soft hissing of his exopack the only sounds in the vicinity. Above them, the faint light from Polyphemus shone delicately through the canopy. This moon didn’t seem to know true darkness. It was amazing that the boy was able to sleep properly. Then again, Spider had never experienced a truly black night, so he had nothing to compare it to.
“Just checking up on you,” Quaritch mumbled.
“I still have two arms and two legs if that’s what you’re worried about. Haven’t been dragged off by nantang yet.”
Spider was almost endearing when he was trying to sound tough. Quaritch chuckled. “You be sure to let me know if they grab you in the night.”
“Have you ever considered that they’d more likely go for you? They’re smart.”
Quaritch wrinkled his nose playfully. “Nah, I’m too old and bitter.” And I’m fully armed with over 30 years of combat training and field experience.
Spider turned over fully now, so he was facing Quaritch properly. Confusion flickered across his features. “How old are you?” he asked.
Quaritch had to stop and think for a moment. “You’re gonna need to clarify the question, kid. I’m no philosopher.”
“Your body,” Spider emphasised. “When did they start growing you?”
Quaritch couldn’t help the involuntary flinch that overtook his shoulders. He desperately hoped Spider hadn’t noticed. This was still a weird topic. “Twenty years young.”
“You’re literally only a few years older than me.”
“Bullshit. I’m fifty one.”
Spider frowned. “So old, yet still so dumb.”
Quaritch took a risk. He extended his hand and shoved Spider in what he hoped was a playful way. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re a little shit?”
Spider didn’t even flinch. “All the time. Do better.”
Okay, Quaritch could play this game. “You’re a rude, bratty, hormonal teenager.”
“I am not fucking hormonal!”
“Who knows how this planet’s affected you.”
Spider was looking at him like Quaritch had just announced he was going to start classical ballet. “I’m bigger and healthier than other Sky People kids.”
Quaritch pulled a sarcastic expression. He could practically see Spider’s hackles rise. “Eh. You still got some growing to do.”
Spider’s face grew serious, as if he remembered where he was, and who he was talking to. “Leave me alone and I can get on with it then.”
He’d blown it. Spider turned away from him and returned to his fetal position on the floor, back to Quaritch. Still, they’d managed to have a half decent conversation and that was progress. Something kept Quaritch crouched on the ground, but he knew it was his cue to go. He reached out a hand and did something he’d never done before. He ruffled the kid’s hair.
Spider squirmed away from him, but didn’t say anything.
Quaritch took it as a win.
When he returned to his pack a few yards away to finally get some shut eye, he couldn’t help but watch Spider’s sleeping form long into the night. He told himself he just needed to make sure the kid wouldn’t attempt a jailbreak. He told himself he was watching out for predators or God knows what kind of poisonous bugs Pandora harboured, despite Wainfleet standing duty. He would never be able to accept that maybe, just maybe, he was fascinated by the child that his previous life had borne.