Sweet Starfire (Lost Colony #1) Page 87
“Does the knowledge scare you?”
“A little. But I’ve accepted it. I don’t want to retreat to Clementia. Harmonics are a luxury for the human race. They are valuable and to some extent they are our conscience. But I’d rather be a survivor than a luxury.” Cidra’s mouth curved. “And I’d rather fight with Severance than go back to Clementia and worship Mercer from afar.”
“Who’s Mercer?”
Cidra grinned. “Another Harmonic on whom nature wasted a pair of gorgeous shoulders and the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen. For ages I told myself I loved him for his mind. I lied.”
Desma burst out laughing. “Does Severance know about him?”
“Ummm. Irritates the hell out of him. But I think Mercer worries him too. Severance is afraid I’ll start dreaming of the perfect platonic relationship somewhere between Renaissance. and QED.”
“I never could imagine Severance being very good at a platonic relationship with you,” Desma mused.
“He’s not. Oh, he tried hard for a while, Inspired by his noble sense of responsibility, no doubt. But it didn’t last. Now I’m the one who’s worried. He’s shipping me out on a commercial freighter, the same way he shipped out that woman with whom he once signed a convenience contract. What if he doesn’t come back for me, Desma?”
Desma smiled reassuringly. “You’ve got a contract with him to split the credit from this trip, remember? Nothing like a business agreement to tie two people together.”
Cidra brightened a bit. “That’s true.”
Severance had been right about one thing. During the next two days Cidra was aware that she was attracting more than merely curious attention. “Friends” of Severance materialized out of nowhere, professing eager interest in Cidra’s health and welfare. Most were concerned that she enjoy herself in Port Try Again while Severance was gone. Cidra was frequently stopped on the street, and Desma was prevailed upon to make introductions. Cidra handled the new attention with classic Harmonic politeness.
“It would be humorous if it wasn’t for the fact that all this interest in me merely proves Severance was right one more time,” she told Desma at one point. “I’ve had three invitations for dinner this, evening, four for tomorrow night, and half a dozen offers to buy me a drink. One very nice man asked if I was interested in playing Free Market. I got the feeling that I was going to be encouraged to put up my contract as a bet.”
“Severance would explode if he found out.”
Cidra smiled a little savagely. “Yes, he would, wouldn’t he? What’s happening to me, Desma? I never used to be vindictive or… or irrational and emotional.”
“You’re scared,” Desma said gently.
“I’m afraid so. I have no real hold on Severance. A couple of nights in his bed and a shared adventure. That’s all. It’s pleasant to think mat the contract ties us together, but it won’t. Not really. Not the way I want it to hold us.”
“He’s said he’ll come back for you.”
“I know. But he’s a Wolf.”
Desma frowned. “You’re afraid he won’t keep his word?”
“I’m afraid he’ll change his mind; that perhaps when he made the statement, he didn’t really know his own mind.”
“You’re a Wolf too. You might change your mind or fail to keep your word. You might not be waiting for him several weeks from now when he returns from QED. Perhaps the gardens of Clementia will hold more appeal than you remember.”
“No.” Cidra spoke with conviction, aware of her inner decision. “I won’t change my mind. If he comes back for me, I’ll be waiting.”
“He has no way of knowing that for sure.”
“He shouldn’t put us to the test.”
“Severance is looking for reassurance, if you ask me.”
“It’s odd, isn’t it, Desma? We’ve trusted each other with our lives more than once during the past few days. Yet we’re afraid to trust each other’s feelings.”
“I imagine things are much simpler in Clementia.”
“Yes,” said Cidra. “They are.”
Severance silently sent up a word of thanks when the holo-tape crew managed to trigger the Ghosts’ presentation inside the safehold. He had been mentally holding his breath, afraid that the showing he and Cidra had seen had been the final one. If that had been the case, he would have had to take a penalty cut on the contract he’d signed with the company. The safehold, itself, was still valuable but not nearly so valuable as the contents. The mind call itself was no longer functioning. Either that or the conditions weren’t right for activating it. When Severance and the exploration crew had finally located the safehold by a process of quartering all the terrain within an hour’s walk from the river, he had seen at once that the protected circle had shrunk. It was obviously fading, and that meant the valuable scenes inside were probably about to disappear also.
“I’m not sure we’ll get it to trigger again,” the crew chief announced, “but we’ve got it down on holotape.” He looked pleased. “A hell of a find, Severance. When you stumbled across this, it was really your lucky day. Enough history in here to keep half of Clementia busy for years.”
Severance stood in the vaulted entrance of the safehold, gazing at the bubbling stream where Cidra had been bathing the morning he’d awakened from the delirium. The stream was still barely inside the protected area. “My lucky day,” he agreed softly. He forced himself out of the reveries as a crew of technicians bustled past. “Any sign of a mechanism to explain how all this operates? We could use the secret of keeping the terrain clear. Whatever the Ghosts used, it’s more efficient than the deflectors.”
“Nothing so far. We’ve picked up no energy readings and no indications of any hardware hidden in the safehold walls. We may never find the answer. Might not be able to comprehend it if we do find it. This is damn sophisticated stuff, Severance.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “They had the ability to survive. But in the end they just gave up.”
“Never even made a try for space travel beyond the local system,” the crew chief said. “Doesn’t make any sense. So much technical expertise gone to waste. Other things became more important, I guess.”
Severance looked at him. “What could have been more important than the survival of the species?”
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