“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.
SEVEN
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.
Try Again hardly seemed the major port city of a planet, Cidra decided as Severance Pay settled onto the landing strip. It was a small, shaggy boom town, the one place on Renaissance where employees of the highly competitive exploration and development companies supposedly mingled without risk of hostility or outright violence. Renaissance was a tough world, and the people imported by the companies to tame it had a reputation that matched the planet’s in many respects. Port Try Again had very few written laws but several unwritten ones. Among them was the understanding that the representatives of the different companies would coexist peacefully while in town. Chief among the written laws was that the town was the one place on the planet where it was illegal to carry a pulser. Outside the gates the side arm was a familiar sight.
Everyone needed the clearing in the jungle that was Try Again. It was the point of shipping and receiving for the planet, a supply depot, a place where people could relax in safety. The town had been hacked out along the banks of the wide, silty river that offered a green-walled highway into the vast depths.
But even before Cidra had begun to take this all in, she noticed that there was something wrong with the air of Renaissance.
“You’ll get used to it,” Severance told her.
“It’s like breathing soup!” It wasn’t that bad, Cidra admonished herself as she followed Severance toward the terminal buildings. But the still, heavy muggyness was a drastic change from the clean, crisp air of Port Valentine and an even greater change from the perfumed gardens of Clementia. With a sense of dismay she realized that the fine fabric of her formal midday surplice was already damp and clinging. The light, gossamer, green material seemed suddenly to have acquired a different texture. Green had been the wrong color to wear, anyway, she decided. There was far too much of it around.
She put the condition of her clothing out of her mind in favor of concentrating on the new and strange surroundings. In spite of the thick heat and the unrelenting backdrop of jungle, she felt a rush of anticipation. Renaissance was the first stop on her journey of discovery. Her quest had begun in earnest.
“Stay in sight while I arrange to have the cargo put in time-lock storage. I’m going to be busy, and I don’t want to have to waste time wondering where you are.” Severance gave the order somewhat absently as he led her into the air-conditioned terminal building.
Cidra didn’t bother to acknowledge the instructions. She was too occupied with observing the jumble of people and luggage surrounding her. A commercial freighter had recently arrived, and the new load of mostly company employees was a mixed lot. The majority were wearing the distinctive uniforms that identified their employers on sight. Here and there amid the spiffy, dashing uniforms was a ship suit of dull gray or brown, similar to the one Severance wore. Independent pilots or a temporarily unemployed worker looking for a job, Cidra deduced. There were plenty of high-paying jobs to be had on Renaissance if a person was willing to work.
Nowhere in the crowd were there any other formal midday surplices. Cidra felt strangely isolated. She was aware that she was attracting a certain amount of polite interest. Harmonics rarely traveled alone on the rare occasions when they left Clementia. They were almost always to be seen in the company of other Harmonics, moving through crowded passenger terminals in small, protected clusters. Her lone status no doubt seemed strange to those around her.
Cidra edged closer to Severance, who was leaning over a desk. He had both hands planted on the surface. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the grim set of his mouth and idly wondered what the young woman behind the desk had done to earn his displeasure. The woman was an attractive creature, Cidra realized. Her long blond hair was loose around her shoulders, framing an elfin profile. She was wearing the uniform of the company that had the terminal operation contract, and Cidra guessed that the outfit had been specially tailored for her full-breasted figure. Becoming interested in the interchange, Cidra turned to study the situation more closely.
“Don’t give me that, Gena,” Severance snapped. “You know I’ve got a priority claim on a time locker. Saints know I’ve paid your company enough for it. I want my mail off-loaded and put into storage within an hour.”
“I’m sorry, Severance, but the computer doesn’t show any record of your claim. You’ll have to get in line behind every other pilot who wants a locker.”
“The rest of those pilots can go line up at the nearest lav.” He reached into a pouch on his utility loop and removed a strip of plastic. “Shove this into your computer and see if it jogs its memory banks.”
“There’s no need to shout, Teague.”
“I’m not shouting. Not yet. You’ll know it when I do. Find my locker, Gena, or I’ll pile the mail here on your desk.”
Cidra saw the rueful dismay in the woman’s eyes. Apparently she believed Severance. Gena took the plastic record-of-contract and fed it into the port computer. There was a pause while the machine scanned the information and tried to correlate it with its records. A second or so later a lush, feminine voice responded to the waiting humans.
Time-lock storage priority claim acknowledged. Assign locker G17.”
Severance smiled faintly in triumph, taking back his strip of plastic. “Thank you, Gena. You’re always so helpful. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Teague, you know you’d get a lot more help from me if you tried a more diplomatic approach once in a while.”
No point in being diplomatic with a computer.”
The blonde’s eyes widened innocently. “I’m not a computer, Teague. Not a single ounce of cold metal anywhere in my body. And I can prove it.” Gena inhaled deeply, filling the specially tailored uniform to perfection. She smiled.
Severance returned the smile, his mouth curving with dry reluctant amusement. “I’ll just bet you can, Gena. The only problem is, I’m not sure I’d survive the experience.”
“I’d go easy on you the first time,” Gena assured him softly.
“Appreciate that. I’ll let you know if I ever work up enough nerve to give it a try.” He turned away without waiting for a response, his smile vanishing. He caught hold of Cidra’s arm. “Let’s go
. We’ve got work to do.”
Cidra thought about the smiles she had just witnessed. She had felt uncomfortable during the blatantly sexy bantering. And she was very much aware of Gena’s thoughtful gaze following her as she was swept through the terminal.
“What are we going to do, Severance?”
“First we take care of the mail.”
Cidra nodded. “The mail always comes first.”
“You’re learning,” he said approvingly. “You can handle the computer manifest while I supervise the unloading.”
“And then?”
“Then I’m going to take you to a friend’s place and stash you for the duration.”
Alarmed, Cidra halted in her tracks. “Stash me for the duration? What are you talking about, Severance? I must have complete freedom to move around whenever we’re in port. I’ll need to consult the local Archive computer and talk to people who might be able to confirm some leads I’m following. I will not be stashed.”
“Calm down, will you? All I’m saying is that you’re going to have to stay someplace while we’re in port. You’ll be free to do what you need to.”
“Why not on board Severance Pay?”
“Because I’ll be staying on board ship,” he told her grimly.
“So what’s changed? We’ve both been sleeping on board for the past two weeks. I don’t see why I have to move out for the short time we’re here at Try Again.”
“Take my word for it, it will do us both good to have a break from each other.”
“But Severance, I—” Cidra closed her mouth abruptly as she remembered Gena’s smile. And then she remembered Severance’s bouts of heavy exercise and even heavier consumption of ale. Most of all she remembered the night he had pulled her down across his thighs and told her he needed a woman. “Oh, I understand.”
He shot her a sidelong glance as he propelled her toward the ship. “It’s wonderful traveling with an educated woman.”
Cidra smiled wryly. “As long as you’re going to stash me, why not in a hotel? Why do I have to go to your friend’s home?”
“You’ll be more comfortable with Desma,” he informed her cryptically. “Hotels in Try Again can get a little rough.”
Desma Kady was something of a surprise to Cidra. The older woman was large without being fat, she was tall and commanding with pale blue eyes that held intelligence and humor in fairly equal proportions. Her face had once been beautiful and had matured into a combination of features that could best be described as striking and interesting. There was a forceful personality in that face, and Cidra liked it.
Desma met Severance and Cidra at the entrance to a long building fashioned of triton walls and diazite windows. Cidra knew the diazite had been tempered for extra strength because it had the peculiar yellow cast the process produced. She wondered why the already tough, clear material had needed to be turned into virtual armor for this building. Desma was wearing a one-piece white jumpsuit, the kind usually worn by lab workers.
“Severance! You’re back. Bring me my new scope?” Desma laughed engagingly, including Cidra in the welcome.
“Have I ever failed you, Desma?” Severance held out the package he had retained when the rest of the mail had gone into temporary storage at the terminal.
“Never. It’s one of the things that makes you so wonderful.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek in a motherly fashion, and then she smiled at Cidra. “Otanna, you are most welcome. You honor my home.”
The formal greeting was a soothing balm on Cidra’s ears. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed the small, socially comforting rituals of Clementia. Although she was no Harmonic, this woman obviously knew the ceremonies. With a sense of gratitude Cidra inclined her head.
“You are most gracious, Otanna Kady. I thank you for your generosity, and I regret the inconvenience of my sudden arrival.”
“The inconvenience is as nothing. Please do not regard it.”
Severance stepped in before Cidra could follow up with the next formal statement. He must have remembered that this could go on for a long time before a ritualistic conclusion was reached. “That’s enough, both of you. Desma, this is Cidra Rainforest. She’s not really a Harmonic; she just looks like one because she was born and raised in Clementia. A clear-cut case of an overeducated female. Cidra, meet Desma Kady. She’s another female with a lot of education. Mostly in the biological sciences.”
Cidra made some quick connections in her mind and then once again inclined her head, this time adding the nuance of deep respect. “Of course. Desma Kady. A most distinguished specialist in the field of bioluminescence. I read your last monograph when I was preparing to enter it into the Archive computers. The one on the Rigor Mortis Mantis.”
Desma laughed in delight, dropping the formality. “That’s me. The lady who works with bugs that glow in the dark. Where did you find Severance?”
“In a tavern,” Cidra said honestly.
“That doesn’t surprise me. What were you doing in the sort of place he’d hang out in?”
“Looking for transportation to Renaissance.” Cidra smiled proudly. “I’m a member of his crew”
Desma flashed a quick glance at Severance. “Is that right?”
“She’s on a crew contract, Desma, not a convenience contract. Mind if we go inside? It’s hotter than a miner’s temper out here.”
“You don’t want to come into the lab. It’s no cooler in there.” Desma looked at Cidra. “Have to keep it at normal Renaissance temperature and humidity. The bugs like it that way. Let’s go to the house.”
She started off, leaving Severance and Cidra to follow her next door to a smaller, company-built structure that looked much like all the other standard-issue, company-built housing Cidra had seen in Port Try Again. The structure was the usual octagonal design, the rooms inside cut up like pieces of pie under a convex roof. Deliciously cool air awaited beyond the invisible electronic grid of the deflector screens used to keep out small, flying insects. The invention of the screens was one of the technological advances that had made the exploration of Renaissance possible. When they were constructed along larger, heavy duty lines, the deflectors were capable of warding off most Renaissance wildlife. Huge networks of the screens protected the perimeter of Try Again.
“How long are you going to be in Try Again this time, Severance?” Desma led her guests into a wide, wedge-shaped seating area and punched up a selection of cold drinks from a serving tray. She motioned Cidra to sit down.
“I’m figuring five or six days. Long enough to find a few good shipments to take to some of the company outposts I’ll be hitting later.” He shrugged, helping himself to a mug of iced Renaissance Rose ale. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and pick up some mail for QED. We’ll be leaving Renaissance in a couple of weeks.”
“Did you want to stay with me while Severance is running around in the jungle, Cidra?” Desma leaned back in a chair and crossed her legs at the ankle as she sipped from a glass of fruit juice.
“Oh, no,” Cidra assured her quickly. “I’ll be going with Severance when he makes his trips to the outposts. I agreed to a crew contract with him because I want an opportunity to visit as many places as possible.”
“Off to see the Stanza Nine system after all those years stuck in Clementia, hm?” Desma was amused.
“Not exactly,” Severance answered in a flat voice before Cidra could respond. “She’s looking for something. Something she thinks will let her go back to Clementia as a full-fledged Harmonic. Waste of time, but she’ll probably learn a lot en route. Cidra’s bound and determined to expand her education.”
Cidra flushed under the thinly veiled derision. She was getting used to Severance’s remarks regarding her quest, but she was embarrassed that he would make them when others were present. “You must forgive him, Otanna Kady. His manners appear to be very unformed at times.”
“I know,” Desma said easily, ignoring Severance’s scowl. “I’m used to it. Don’t be embarr
assed for him.”
Severance stood up without any warning. “I’ll let the two of you dissect my character in private. I’ve got work to do. I’ve got to find the local rep for ExcellEx and get his sensors off my hands. Cidra, you’re to stay with Desma until we’re ready to leave Port Try Again.”
“I understand, Severance.”
His glare intensified at her meekness. “And stay out of trouble.”
“Yes, Severance.” She deliberately made her voice even gentler and more acquiescent.
Severance seemed briefly undecided about what to say next. Finally he turned to the older woman, who was watching the exchange with barely concealed amusement.
“Thanks, Desma. I appreciate this.”
“Anytime, Severance. Anytime, that is, that you turn up with an intelligent, well-mannered houseguest. I’m sure it won’t happen often.”
“Sweet Harmony. Why is every female in sight picking on me today?”
“Probably because you make such a good target,” Cidra offered far too politely. When he swung around to confront her, she smiled her most brilliant smile. “Have a good time, Severance. I’ll be here when you’re ready to leave.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.” He stalked to the door and disappeared into the glaring heat. The deflector screens hissed faintly as he passed between them.
A long, speculative silence pervaded the cool room. Through the window Cidra could see nothing except the row of octagonal houses and lab buildings across the dusty street. The street shouldn’t have been dusty. It was paved with an impermeable membrane that was almost as tough as the triaton and diazite of the structures. But there was a general grittiness in the air that hung over the entire town.
Desma Kady took a long swallow of her fruit juice. “Well,” she announced at long last, “this is all very interesting, you know. Small towns like Port Try Again tend to thrive on new gossip. And you’re bound to create some. I hope you won’t mind?”