Editing Before and After

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was late and I’d just turned in when I heard Joshua knock on my door.  I hauled out of bed and grabbed my robe, shrugging it on before tripping the lock from the bunk console.<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"It's okay, Joshua. I was thinking along the same lines, actually. If you have to impersonate someone well enough that people he saw every day wouldn't realize he'd been swapped, you're going to need some time alone to prepare. I'm surprised you could do it in a week. That mine sounds like a fairly big operation. That's a lot of people to fool."<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;''Yes. More explicit.''<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Do you remember what I'd said about Mike offering me a chance at payback during the war?" I crossed my arms and looked at him. "I had to assume the identity of an innocent woman because I needed access to something sensitive. And when I took her place, I had to take it all the way. I don't know if Mike pulled the trigger or if one of his men did it, but she had to die. They used her body to cover my tracks and when the job was over, I walked away with another fake identity and it was like she'd disappeared into thin air. During the job, I had to .... hide myself so deeply that what I'd normally do as easily as breathing, I couldn't, because for ''her'' it would have been impossible. But it cut both ways. I had to be outgoing and make friends, because she would have. I had to get taken to bed by those friends, because she would have. I had to publicly support the Feds in the war, because she would have. Everything she'd written about herself in her journal, I had to be. I had to squeeze my brain into a tinier box, dream tinier dreams, dare tinier tasks...because she couldn't have done more."<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I scrubbed my face and felt the hard injections under my fingertips where my cheekbones and chin had been built up. I snatched my hands away and tucked them in my armpits, to keep from fidgeting.<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"I didn't spend a lot of time looking in the mirror then, Joshua, because I couldn't afford to. The only time I could be my true self was lying in my bunk at night when everyone else in the dorm was asleep, and I could finally breathe. I lived a lie. For fifteen months. I couldn't have done it if I'd had Mike working next to me. Or my friends. Or my family. It would have dragged my true self to the surface and my cover would have been blown. And I would have been shot as the spy I was.<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"So if you feel I won't understand why you're shutting yourself up in your quarters for the rest of the trip, you're mistaken. I do understand. I understand that while you're Jackson, you can't be Joshua and therefore there can't be Rina-and-Joshua. I saw that coming a mile away. I also realized that there's a chance that you won't be able to put aside Jackson's identity. That it's a risk you took on when you agreed to do this. I understand that, too. But if it's possible to carry something forward with you while you're Jackson, then know this: we have your back, Joshua, and we'll be waiting for you when you come in from the cold."<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I pushed off the desk and wrapped my arms around him, and hugged him long and hard.<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I knew it was Joshua--''Jackson'', I corrected myself--in the galley and I dithered with my notes on the couch. Had it been Joshua still, I would have gone in to investigate, maybe lent a hand. It was Jackson, however, and I admit I had little patience for the man's clumsy attempts at being suave and sophisticated. That sort of thing had irritated and bored me as a schoolgirl, and it irritated and bored me now.<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;However, that didn't release me from simple human decency to another fellow being. With a sinking feeling of resignation, I put my notes down and got myself to the galley and poked my head inside.<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;''Better plates? Looks to me we need a better man.'' And I bit my tongue on the words before I could say them. My dislike for the mannerisms shouldn't be visited on the owner. I could see that Jackson was sincerely trying to fill Joshua's shoes--and that's how I had to look at it to preserve the masquerade--and tempered my response.<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Why don't you take care of the spices while I get the plate? These edges are sharp and I wouldn't want you to cut yourself."<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"We'll see," I said with a non-committal shrug. I got the last of the big pieces into the trash and got down on my knees to eyeball the deck, looking for any smaller slivers I might have missed. Finding none I set to work on the food next. I tried not to compare sharing the galley with Jackson with either Christian or Joshua, but it was hard for me not to miss the mess Jackson had made of things.<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Which, on a certain level, only testified to Joshua's proficiency at assuming an identity and living it. The hands that ineffectually swept at the spilled spices were the same hands that had deftly cooked and cleaned a week before, but the owner of the latter was no longer in residence. Or at least buried so deep as to make no difference.<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I was just grateful that Jackson's face wasn't enough like Joshua's to confuse one for the other. Hearing Jackson but ''seeing'' Joshua would have been too much for me. As it was, I tried to spend as little time with Jackson as possible, to avoid that internal dissonance of expectation, of wanting someone who wasn't there.<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In short, I missed Joshua. And it was something I couldn't let on where Jackson could pick up on it. ''Jackson'' would get the wrong idea and having to fend off the man's attentions where a week ago I would have welcomed them would have been the absolute last straw.<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;''Seriously, it's a good thing he doesn't have Joshua's face.''<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I got the pasta onto the dust pan and stood up to dump it...and bumped right into him.<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Yeah, sure. Go ahead," I said to the walls, to the countertops, to anything but him. I didn't watch him go but dumped the pasta and started on the rest of the mess. I paused and took in the spills and splashes, of utensils littering the counters and the dirtied pots in the sink, at boxes and bags leaning crazily against the various bowls and canisters Jackson had taken down and failed to clean or stow.<br>

&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was a far cry from Joshua's precision and creativity, or even Christian's looser style. The galley sat in chaos and no longer imbued with the spirit of either man, it was just a messy room that needed cleaning. ''Time I got to it, then.'' I took a deep breath and working methodically, I cleaned and scrubbed and put things back to rights. And mindful that the crew still needed feeding, I started throwing together a meal that I knew they'd eat.<br>