LC01 Sweet Starfire Page 11

  “Several,” Severance directed in a soft voice. “I’ll need several tablets.”

  She returned with two. He didn’t argue. He wasn’t up to arguing. Popping them under his tongue, he waited for the analgesic to hit his system. When the tablets were dissolved, he took a long swallow of the hot coffade. A swollen Renaissance swamp-bubble occupying the place normally filled by his brain slowly began to shrink. It had been close; another few minutes and it would have burst. Severance lifted his head and saw that Cidra had slipped back to the front of the cabin.

  “Smart female,” he growled. “Give the beast his coffade and ‘gesics, and then get out of his way. Where did an almost-Harmonic learn such a practical program of human relations?”

  “I keep telling you, Severance, I’m a fast learner.” But she smiled at him from the computer console where she had apparently already begun the day’s work.

  “Learn a lot last night?” Stupid crack. Severance regretted the words as soon as they hit the air.

  “A great deal. Feel like eating?”

  “No.” Her smile annoyed him. “I mean, no thanks. Not yet.”

  “Let me know when you are. I’ll put a prespac in the heater.” She turned back to the console.

  Severance thought about the situation. “There’s something wrong here,” he finally announced.

  “You’re not feeling well, that’s all.”

  He gritted his teeth. “I mean, there’s something wrong in addition to that small problem.” He shot her a suspicious glance. “You are not, by any chance, operating under the assumption that I don’t remember what happened last night, are you?”

  She didn’t look at him, her attention on the screen in front of her. “I assume your memory is as good as mine.”

  “Unfortunately” Severance climbed slowly to his feet. Better to get this part over and done. He held on to the edge of the upper bunk and glared balefully toward his companion. “Cidra?”

  “Yes, Severance?” She turned her head with polite inquiry.

  “I regret what happened last night,” he began in an incredibly stilted tone. “You are a passenger on board this ship. You are entitled to my protection. As the pilot in command, I have an obligation to remain, above all, in command of myself. I assure you that what happened last night will not happen again.” He felt both martyred and heroic.

  Cidra regarded him for a long moment, her gaze searching and, he could have sworn, gentle. Then she inclined her head in formal acceptance of his apology.

  “Thank you, Severance, but there is no need for you to accept the blame for what happened last night. I do not view the incident as anything serious.”

  He stared at her. “You don’t?”

  “Of course not.” She waved the passionate scene aside with a graceful movement of her hand.

  Severance began to feel something besides martyrdom and heroism. He began to feel irritated. “Then you obviously don’t know what the consequences could have been.”

  “I realize what might have happened if matters had gone to the extreme conclusion. I have studied the principles of human reproduction.”

  Severance’s hand tightened on the edge of the bunk. “I keep forgetting your extensive education.”

  She smiled quite brilliantly. “Precisely. And that is exactly how I view last night’s events. They were quite educational. Because, while I have studied the physical interaction of male and female, I have not yet had an opportunity to examine it on a personal level. There are risks involved in such a study, of which I am well aware. But I admit I have enough Wolf in me at this point to be curious about such matters. And I realize that once I have found the object of my quest, I may never again be interested in pursuing this particular line of investigation. Harmonics in general don’t seem very interested in sex, as we both know. Once I am one, I will also probably lose interest. In the meantime there is something to be learned, and last night I had a sudden, unexpected interest in learning. You mustn’t blame yourself or take responsibility for the risks involved. I was a willing participant. I am, however, also cognizant of the risks, and I give you my word that I will exercise better judgment in the future.”

  Severance listened to the little speech with a growing desire to break something. “Let me get this straight,” he finally said faintly. “You’re taking responsibility for last night’s little fiasco?”

  She inclined her head in that formal, gracious way that was beginning to infuriate him.

  “And you view the ‘incident’ as simply a learning experience?”

  “An experiment,” she amplified, smiling even more graciously.

  “An experiment,” he echoed. Slowly he pushed himself away from the bunk. “A scientific experiment.” He paced toward her. His headache was breaking through the barrier raised by the ‘gesic tablets. He realized that something of what he was feeling must have been showing on his face, because the brilliance in Cidra’s smile was fading. A distinct wariness was beginning to take its place. She stood up as he glided to a halt in front of her, but she didn’t back away from him.

  “Uh, Severance . . .”

  He ignored the uncertain tone. Deliberately he reached out, catching her chin with his hand. “Listen to me, my sweet, false Harmonic. I am in charge around here. I told you that the first day. And I am taking full responsibility for what happened last night. You were not conducting a scientific experiment. You were being seduced. Furthermore, you will never conduct scientific experiments with me, is that understood? I will not be used to further your education. If we ever wind up in a bunk together, it will be for the usual Wolf reasons. It will be because we’ve got a hunger for each other that can’t be satisfied in any other way. It will not happen because you’re conducting experiments! Do I make myself clear, Cidra Rainforest?”

  “Clear as diazite, Teague Severance.”

  He hesitated a moment longer, making sure that the last of the gracious brilliance had disappeared from her expression. Then, satisfied, he released her chin and stalked to the lav.

  An experiment. Saints in hell! One thing was for certain. Severance decided as he stood under the spray: He was going to have to keep a lid on his consumption of ale after dinner. The feelings of martyrdom and heroism returned.

  But there was another sensation too. A tantalizing, aching, hungry sensation that didn’t fade as the ship day progressed. It stirred every time the memory of Cidra’s response in his arms flickered through his brain. Severance was afraid he was going to have to learn to live with it, because as long as Cidra was around, his awareness of her was not going to disappear.

  Cidra did her utmost to adhere to the normal ship-day routine. The morning’s scene stayed fresh in her mind, and she knew that for the first few hours following it she was walking on thin crystal. One false step and everything might shatter.

  There was more than one meaning of the term Wolf. It referred in part to an ancient, mythical creature reputed to be an extreme carnivore, an animal well adapted to violent survival. The other meaning was just as old. Wolf also meant a discordant, unharmonious chord struck in music, an instance of dissonance. Both meanings suited the general population of non-Harmonics, and Severance was a fine example. But today he seemed as determined as she was to tread lightly, and by the time of the evening meal, things seemed relatively normal.

  When Cidra suggested a game of Free Market after dinner, she thought at first that Severance was going to refuse. She saw him glance at the half finished bottle of ale he had started during the meal, and then he seemed to change his mind.

  “All right,” he agreed, reaching for the playing field.

  Anxious to please, Cidra had an idea. “I know the game isn’t very interesting for you without real stakes.”

  He shrugged and set out the cubes. “I’ll survive.”

  She coughed delicately, feeling quite adventurous. “I was thinking,” she began cautiously, “that we might try livening up the game for you by making genuine wagers.”

&n
bsp; Severance’s hand paused over the stack of sardite chips. Something gleamed in his eyes and then vanished beneath an expression of polite inquiry. “What sort of wagers?”

  “Well, I haven’t got much, and it would be foolish to bet anything valuable, anyway, since you’re bound to win, but there is the matter of preparing the meals. We’ve been more or less alternating the task, but we could decide that the loser would put the prespacs into the heater for, say, a full ship day.”

  Severance lowered his lashes, ostensibly concentrating on counting out sardite chips. “A possibility.”

  “Well?”

  “All right. It’s a bet. Whoever loses gets stuck fixing meals for the next cycle.”

  Cidra felt a strange rush of excitement, an emotion she hadn’t yet experienced when she played Free Market. She nodded and sat forward, determined to pay extra close attention to the game. She would probably lose—she always lost to Severance—but perhaps not as badly this time.

  It came as an almost overwhelming surprise when she won. At first she couldn’t believe it. Cidra stared at the blank spot in front of Severance where his sardite chips were normally stacked. All of the chips were on her side of the table. She was suddenly quite euphoric.

  “I won!”

  He leaned back in his seat, mouth twisted in a dry smile. “So you did. How does it feel?”

  She grinned with unabashed enthusiasm. “Very pleasant. You’re going to do all the meals tomorrow?”

  “Looks like it.”

  “You don’t mind?” she pressed.

  “A man’s got to pay his gambling debts.” He leaned forward and scooped up cubes and playing pieces. “Want to try another game?”

  She did, but there was a problem. “I can’t think of anything else to bet.”

  “How about one of my Laughing Gods against that fireberyl comb you wear?” Severance suggested very casually.

  Cidra was shocked. “They’re both much too valuable.”

  “That’s what will make the game interesting.”

  She shook her head firmly. “I couldn’t.”

  “ The way you just played, I doubt you’ll have any trouble winning again. You seem to have gotten the hang of Free Market.”

  That much was true. She was obviously improving rapidly as a player. The strange euphoria was still bubbling in her blood. Recklessly she smiled. “All right, Severance, it’s a bet.”

  He smiled too. That smile with all the teeth.

  Then he coolly and methodically proceeded to demolish her in the next game.

  When it was over, Cidra sat feeling dazed by the loss. She realized belatedly that she hadn’t expected to lose. The first win had given her an unnatural confidence in her new skills. It was an unwarranted confidence, apparently. Severance said nothing, waiting for the impact of the loss to sink in. Wistfully she watched him retrieve the last sardite chip from her side of the table, and then she lifted her gaze to his.

  “You won.”

  “Ummm.” He sat waiting quietly, with an air of grave expectation.

  “I suppose you want the comb.”

  “It’s customary to pay a gambling debt immediately.”

  “Of course.” She straightened proudly, determined to be a good loser. She fished the beautiful fireberyl comb from her coronet of hair and slowly held it out to him.

  He took it from her and examined it. The trapped flames of the polished fireberyl flickered in the light. “It’s very beautiful.”

  “My parents gave it to me when they saw me off on my quest.” Memories of her mother’s gentle, understanding expression as she had said good-bye to her daughter tugged at Cidra for the first time in days. Her father had been equally compassionate. Their understanding was tempered with the natural emotional distance a Harmonic instinctively maintained with a Wolf. They had both known that this farewell had been coming since the day Cidra was born. Their young Wolf cub had to find her own way. They could offer shelter, but they could not provide a true way of life for her.

  Severance looked up. “So your parents know you’re on your way to Renaissance?”

  Surprised by the question, Cidra hesitated and then admitted, “No I don’t think so. I implied that I would begin my search on Lovelady. They would have had doubts about the wisdom of going to Renaissance.”

  “Especially as a passenger in a mail ship.”

  “They might have had doubts,” Cidra said firmly, “but they would not have argued with my decision. I am an adult. They respect that status. I simply did not wish to cause them undue concern. Renaissance has a reputation for being very dangerous.”

  He studied her for a moment. “Your parents don’t know you very well, do they?”

  “They are kind, intuitive people who saw to it that I had an excellent education and proper training in the Klinian laws,” Cidra informed him proudly.

  “But no matter what they did, they couldn’t make you into a Harmonic. You’re a Wolf. So they don’t really know you.”

  “You don’t really know me, either, Severance, so don’t make any judgments,” she heard herself retort. “You can’t ever get to know me the way Harmonics know each other. Wolves aren’t capable of that kind of communication.” She got to her feet, aware that she was trembling. Without a word she retreated into her bunk with her precious copy of Nisco’s Serenity and Ritual.

  Severance made no move to stop her. He put away the playing pieces, stashed the field, and then carefully tucked the fireberyl comb into a pouch on the utility loop that was hanging near his bunk. He decided that he, too, would read tonight. He could do without any more ale for a while.

  When he finally stretched out to sleep, he had a last mental image of Cidra in his arms. In the fantasy she was wearing nothing except the fireberyl comb in her hair. The flames in the comb were dim compared to the flames in her eyes.

  Cidra spent the next couple of days working diligently on her programming project. The tensions of the first week had been far more severe than she could have imagined. Occasionally she had unpleasant visions of how much worse her situation would have been if she had accepted passage with someone such as Scates, the man who had come to her hotel room in Valentine.

  There was no doubt that living in close quarters with Teague Severance had its risks and that his mood could be somewhat volatile, but she was learning to manage the unstable atmosphere between them. And she had to admit that Severance was able to deal with the situation. He seemed grimly determined to get to Renaissance without losing his temper or his self-control again. She knew instinctively that he placed a high value on his own sense of control. He was the pilot in command, and the concept was important to him. His sense of responsibility ran deep.

  They were four days away from Renaissance when disaster struck in the lav. Cidra had just turned on the spray and was anticipating her all-important evening shower when she realized that something had gone wrong. The spray bubbled briefly from the surrounding walls and then died. She stared at the disappearing drops of water in dismay. Keeping the length of her showers to a minimum was hard enough; to do without a spray altogether was unthinkable.

  “Severance!”

  He was at the panel in an instant, sounding alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

  Clutching the panel to shield her naked body, she peered around the edge. “The spray fixture is broken. There’s no water.”

  His alert, concerned expression turned into one of sardonic interest. “Is that a fact?”

  “Severance, this is serious! We’re four days from Renaissance. What are we going to do?”

  “Use a lot of deodorant?”

  She glared at him. “This is not a joke.”

  “I know it’s not for you. Anyone who spends a couple of hours

  a day in the lav probably finds this a full-scale catastrophe.”

  “I do not spend two hours a day in here, and it is a full-scale catastrophe. I have never gone one day in my life without a proper bath.”

  “It’s all right. F
red and I aren’t overly sensitive to a little sweat. We’ve learned to take things in stride. I’m sure that after a couple of days we’ll all be accustomed to each other.”

  Cidra was appalled. “I can’t possibly go four days without a bath. You have to do something, Severance.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as fix the spray! You keep telling me you’re the one in charge around here. Well, here’s your chance to prove it.”

  He leaned against the bulkhead, arms crossed, and considered the situation. “What’s in it for me?”

  “A clean passenger.”

  “I was thinking of something a little more useful.”

  She eyed him warily. “What do you want?”

  “A kiss from my passenger.”

  Cidra blinked in astonishment. “That’s all you want in exchange for fixing the spray?”

  “Do we have a deal?”

  “Maybe you can’t fix it. Maybe that’s why you’re teasing me like this.

  “A deal?” he persisted.

  “Can you fix it?” she countered.

  “Lady, I may not have your education, but I’m good with my hands. In a situation this critical, a few practical manual skills are a hell of a lot more important than a headful of fancy Harmonic philosophy.”

  She smiled winningly up at him. “I have great respect for knowledge of any kind.”

  “A deal?”

  Cidra nodded once, very firmly “A deal.”

  Severance straightened away from the wall. “Stand aside.”

  He had the spray working twenty minutes later. Cidra was elated. “You’re a magician, Teague Severance. Where did you learn such skills?”

  He activated the spray experimentally to make sure it was now functioning properly. “Here and there,” he said vaguely. “I’ve always had a knack for keeping machinery running. Comes in useful on Renaissance.”

  “On Renaissance?”

  “Yeah. That planet’s hell on machinery. The heat and humidity are enough to cause problems on their own, but there are also a whole bunch of corrosive plants and soil materials. A good mechanic can name his own price on Renaissance. Stuff is always breaking down.”