He awoke, whining, his tail between his legs. He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Glancing back at Antoinette, he watched as she murmured and shifted position, her hand seeking the place where he’d lain. Silently, he rose to his feet and began gathering his clothes and weapons.
“Cher?”
“I have to go. I can’t stay. It’s not fair to you,” he declared as he opened the door and slipped out.
“Non! Tracker!”
She rose and stood in the open doorway as she watched him stride away. She waited, praying for him to look back, show any sign that could give her hope. He turned the corner and vanished without a glance.
Hours later, Louis looked up from his lunch and saw Tracker slinking alone towards a table, tray in hand. Louis scowled with worry, then stood. Sasha looked up, a question in her yellow eyes.
”Sasha. Stay here. I’ll be right back.” She nodded and followed him with her eyes.
Tracker looked up as Louis came over, then hunched into himself. Louis squatted down and looked at him. “What’s wrong, Tracker?”
”Nothing,” he said in a dull voice and pulled away.
”Bull,” Louis replied bluntly. “What’s wrong? Did she dump you?”
”No!” Tracker said. Then, quieter, “Just leave me alone.”
”Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”
”Nothing!” he shouted, then sprang to his feet and darted out of the cafeteria. Louis stood and watched him go, then sighed and took Tracker’s untouched tray to the bussing window.
”Tracker iss not good?” Sasha asked as he returned to his seat beside her.
He shook his head. “No, he isn’t. Something’s wrong.”
”Iss sick?”
”No. I think he’s very upset about something.”
Her tail lashed suddenly. “Iss not good.” He shook his head silently as he took her hand.
When they left the cafeteria, they took the elevator to Doctor DeAlvarez’ office. “Doctor, I’m concerned about Tracker.”
She raised her brows. “Go on.”
”Well, I met him in the cafeteria and he looked terrible, apathetic, like he didn’t care whether he lived or died. I tried to talk to him, but he ran away. Something is wrong.”
She nodded. “I see. Very good. I’ll put someone on it. Let me know if you learn anything. ”
”Will do, ma’am.”
Doctor DeAlvarez smiled at Sasha. “How are you doing?”
”I iss better. Mania and depression not so bad. When terrorss come, I hold to Louis, feel better. I …” She hissed slightly in frustration as she fumbled for words, and her tail twitched in vexation. “I lonely, not so much. Have friendss, have … have job good to do.”
”That’s good, Sasha. I’m glad.”
”Yess … iss good.”
Antoinette ate lunch alone. In fact, she hadn’t seen Tracker at all since he left her the night before. After leaving Dr. Carter’s office she’d looked for him, hoping to see him waiting for her. But he wasn’t in the waiting room or anyplace else she looked. She queried the message center but he’d left no messages. She left a message of her own, but the message center said he was off base and likely wouldn’t receive it until he returned. She ate silently, mechanically. I miss him, she thought. The light in my heart; the spirit of my soul. What happened? Why did he leave?
At last, she sighed and bussed her tray.
That evening, Antoinette went to the pool as usual. Seeing no one there, she went around to the diving boards and lay her bathrobe on one of the chairs. Stepping onto the low board, she bounced lightly on the end before bending her knees and launching herself into a clean dive, cutting the water with almost no splash. Using a breast stroke, she swam deep beneath the surface to the other side of the pool, broaching right at the side and grasping the edge with one hand while raking her long hair back from her face with the other. Opening her eyes, she found herself face to face with an ebony-furred panther. Golden eyes seemed to shine from the blackness of its face as it stared into her own.
“You are M’sieur d’Armand, no?” she asked. The cat nodded. “You enjoy to watch me?” It nodded again, laying down at the side of the pool with its paws overhanging the edge. “Tres bien. As you wish,” she said, bringing her feet up and kicking away from the wall.
She swam over to the ladder next to the diving boards and climbed out. Walking over to the low board again, she sprang high, performing a near-perfect reverse jackknife, cutting into the water vertically and diving to the bottom of the pool before kicking off and surfacing again by the ladder. Several more times she dived, first from the low board, then from the 3-meter high board as she regained confidence in her skills. After her last dive from the high board, she knifed underwater through the channel under the bridge into the main pool and turned, floating on her back as she relaxed and skulled along with tiny movements of her hands. Interestingly, she realized that since she’d started swimming every evening, more of the residents of the base had begun using it more. Where before she’d been mostly alone with her appreciative audience of Red, Tracker and Walter, now many others, men, women and even children were spending more time in the pool and the area began to take on a community feel.
