Learning to Dance

got to play in the waves like that. It’s one of my favourite
memories.”
“There weren’t a whole lot of waves in Alabama, either,”
said Up. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d shared
so much about her childhood with him, and he felt oddly
touched. They watched the hidden sun draw closer.
“I never killed another person before, Up,” she said.
So it was bothering her. “I know,” he said. “You did
what you had to do. And you saved my life doing it.”
“Do you really think a human would join them
willingly?” she whispered to the sky, not looking at him but
something far above that he couldn’t see. “Betray their own
race?”
“Others have,” Up said. “Like your friend Mr. Brown...”
He had a sudden vision of Taz in a red dress, moving as
gracefully on the dance floor as she did on the battlefield.
Taz, dirty and bruised in her fatigues, shouting orders,
mowing down rows of robots with zapper fire, bending to
help a fallen comrade. Taz, a ball of anger and grief, always
fighting for the family she could never get back. Taz lying
here next to him, sticky with salt and sand and flushed with
exertion, her dark eyes a reflection of the moon above.
Different, but the same. And he wanted all of them. All of
her.
His hand found hers, and she let him thread their fingers
together, hers so much smaller but equally calloused,
equally worn. The rightness of it overwhelmed him.
“Taz,” he said, turning to her. “I-”
He stopped. Taz had closed her eyes, and her breathing
had become even, peaceful. The sun was peeking out over
the edge of the sea, giving everything a pinkish glow,
making her look like some kind of sea-swept, dark-haired
angel. She was sleeping soundly for the first time in weeks.
Up smiled, and closed his eyes too. Here, in this place,