Parello was easy to talk to. It was as comfortable as she’d been with anyone since her mother’s death. More than once they’d clunked their helmets together so that she could hear his deep laugh through conduction rather than the radio. They’d finally slept tipped together.
Christine considered asking Parello about his real past. He’d been subtle about it, yet candid about everything since joining the Army. Criminal? Didn’t get you into Special Operations. Not that a record kept you out, but it took a kind of determination and grit to make the grade that didn’t come easy. Enjoying hard work wasn’t why a man typically turned criminal.
But she couldn’t ask.
They were in “The Grind” now, far past talking. They’d covered over a thousand kilometers. It was a landscape from hell. Jupiter irra
