“For us both,” he said as though dazed.
Chives brought in an omelet and fresh-baked bread.
{From a dealer in Thursday Landing, Kossara rented an aircamper and
field equipment, bought rations and guidebooks, requested advice. She
needed information for its own sake as well as for cover. On the long
voyage here–three changes of passenger-carrying freighter—-she had
absorbed what material on Diomedes the Shkola in Zorkagrad could supply.
That wasn’t much. It could well have been zero if the planet weren’t
unusual enough to be used as an interest-grabbing example in certain
classes. She learned scraps of astronomy, physics, chemistry, topology,
meteorology, biology, ethnology, history, economics, politics; she
acquired a few phrases in several different languages, no real grasp of
their grammar or semantics; her knowledge was a twig to which she clung
above the windy chasm of her ignorance about an entire world.
After a few days getting the feel of conditions, she and Trohdwyr flew
to Lannach. The resident had not actually forbidden them. In the towns
along Sagna Bay, they went among the gaunt high dwellings of the winged
folk, seeking those who understood Anglic and might talk somewhat
freely. “We are from a planet called Dennitza. We wish to find out how
to make friends and stay friends with a people who resemble you–”
Eonan the factor proved helpful. Increasingly, Kossara tried to sound
him out, and had an idea he was trying to do likewise to her. Whether or
not he was involved in the subversive movement, he could well fear she
came from Imperial Intelligence to entrap comrades of his. And yet the
name “Dennitza” unmistakably excited more than one individual, quick
though the Diomedeans were to hide that reaction.
How far Dennitza felt, drowned in alien constellations! At night in
their camper, she and Trohdwyr would talk long and long about old days
and future days at home; he would sing his gruff ychan songs to her, and
she would recite the poems of Simich that he loved: until at last an
inner peace came to them both, bearing its gift of sleep.}
Flandry always dressed for dinner. He liked being well turned out; it
helped create an atmosphere which enhanced his appreciation of the food
and wine; and Chives would raise polite hell if he didn’t. Kossara
slopped in wearing whatever she’d happened to don when she got out of
bed. Not to mock her mourning, he settled for the blue tunic, red sash,
white trousers, and soft half-boots that were a human officer’s ordinary
mess uniform.
When she entered the saloon in evening garb, he nearly dropped the
cocktail pitcher. Amidst the subdued elegance around her, she suddenly
outblazed a great blue star and multitudinously lacy nebula which
dominated the viewscreen. Burgundy-hued velvyl sheathed each curve of
her tautness, from low on the bosom to silvery slippers. A necklace of
jet and turquoise, a bracelet of gold, gleamed against ivory skin.
Diamond-studded tiara and crystal earrings framed the ruddy hair; but a
few freckles across the snub nose redeemed that high-cheeked,
full-mouthed, large-eyed face from queenliness.
“Nom de Dieu!” he gasped, and there sang through him, Yes, God, Whom the
believers say made all triumphant beauty. She breaks on me and takes me
like a wave of sunlit surf. “Woman, that’s not fair! You should have
sent a trumpeter to announce you.”
She chuckled. “I decided it was past time I do Chives the courtesy of
honoring his cuisine. He fitted me yesterday and promised to exceed
himself in the galley.”
Flandry shook head and clicked tongue. “Pity I won’t be paying his
dishes much attention.” Underneath, he hurt for joy.
“You will. I know you, Dominic. And I will too.” She pirouetted. “This
gown is lovely, isn’t it? Being a woman again–” The air sent him an
insinuation of her perfume, while it lilted with violins.
“Then you feel recovered?”
“Yes.” She sobered. “I felt strength coming back, the strength to be
glad, more and more these past few days.” A stride brought her to him.
He had set the pitcher down. She took both his hands–the touch radiated
through him–and said gravely: “Oh, I’ve not forgotten what happened,
nor what may soon happen. But life is good. I want to celebrate its