Sweet Starfire (14 page)

“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? / 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.”

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 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. Fred and I aren’t overly sensitive to a little sweat. We’ve learned to take things in stride. I’m sure mat 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.”

“Were you a mechanic for a while?”

“I told you. I spent a year as a bonus man.” He gave her a brief, hard smile.

“A bonus man is a mechanic?” she asked.

“In a way. He does whatever he gets paid to do.” He stepped back. “Your spray awaits, Otanna.”

“Thank you, Severance.” She hesitated and then quickly moved close to him. Balancing on her toes, she braced herself against his shoulders and brushed his mouth with her own.

Cidra had disappeared into the lav before Severance could catch hold of her and claim a more thorough kiss. He stood staring at the closed lav panel and tried to tell himself that it was just as well. No sense fueling the ache in his gut.

But a part of him didn’t buy that logic for a minute.

Cidra’s first impression of Renaissance was that it was too green. As the planet had filled the observation port during Severance Pay’s approach, some of that endless green had been broken up by the blue expanse of oceans. But once the ship had touched down, there was little to interfere with the sensation of endlessly lush, dark foliage, stretching forever in all directions.

Port Try Again was merely a drop of nongreen plunked down into the limitless jungle at the mouth of a major river. It would surely vanish at once if its human builders and maintainers ever departed. The jungle looked fully capable of washing over the pitifully frail-looking structures of gleaming triaton and diazite, gobbling up everything in its path and closing up the small wound. The tough triaton was an alloy formed from elemental metals wrested from the small polar regions of the planet. It had proven to be one of the few building materials capable of withstanding the corroding effects of the jungle. Its discovery had been a boon to company exploration teams, saving the firms the cost of importing heavy, expensive materials.