Magda found she did hot want to explore this point just now. She reminded Montray, rather tartly, that she had come here in off-duty time; he told her to put in a voucher for the extra pay, and let her go.
Yet, back in her own quarters, removing her heavy clothing, she thought about what he had said. Rohana had spoken formally at first, and when she had called Magda “my child” she had spoken in the inflection normally used to a servant or an inferior-or someone like a translator. But at the end she had called her “my girl,” in the intimate mode she would have used to a young woman of her own caste. Was it only random kindness?
Outside, the snow had turned to heavy sleet; Magda went to the window, drawing aside the curtains to look out through the doubled, soundproof glass into the silent raging of the storm.
You’re out there somewhere, Peter, she thought. What are you up to? If there’s really any such thing as ESP, I ought to be able to reach you somehow. Damn it, Peter come home, I’m worried, damn you. 1 She thought, How Peter would laugh at me. He’s somewhere, following some obscure lead he’s found. Magda knew she was a good Intelligence officer; knew Peter was considered a gifted one. A woman could not do too much in the Intelligence line on a planet like Darkover, where strong codes and taboos regulated female behavior; Magda knew that elsewhere, on a less strongly patriarchal planet, where men and women were equals, she could have had more scope for her talents. Yet Darkover is my home . . ..
One of the messier moments, during the tense weeks before the showdown that had ended their brief marriage, had been Peter’s accusation that she was jealous, jealous because he was allowed to accomplish more than she was on a world like Darkover. And of course, it was true. …
Oh, Peter, come home. I’m worried. Feeling foolish, yet taking it seriously, Magda strained in concentration-as she had done at the New Rhine Rakakowski Institute on Terra, making her significantly better-than-chance scores on her ESP cards-to try to send a message, if such a thing were possible. Peter, Peter, we are all worrying. At least let us know you are safe.
But there was no sense of contact, and at last, drained and weary, feeling it had been an idiotic endeavor, Magda gave up and went to bed.
That night she dreamed of Peter Haldane, but he was laughing at her.
Chapter SEVEN
The season drew on, and the cold thickened. Magda, who had been born in the mountains, did not mind the cold; at least, not when she could wear suitable clothing for it. But most of the Terrans burrowed indoors like animals in their winter holes, venturing out only when they must; and the crews of the starships that touched down here confined their stay to the minimum, seldom venturing out even into the port and never going into the Old Town.
Even Magda, careless of official disapproval, wore her Darkovan dress more and more around the HQ, suffering the inconvenience of long skirts and heavy petticoats for their warmth. One afternoon when she came in from a day spent in the Old Town, it was snowing so heavily that the idea of changing into the thin Terran synthetics seemed insane; she went directly to Personnel, and the station where her observations were recorded. Montray’s pretty assistant, heavily sweatered, looked at her with envy. “I don’t blame you for going native. I’m almost tempted to transfer to your section so I can dress for the climate! I don’t know how you manage to get around in those things-but they do look warm!”
Magda grinned at her. “Usual question.”
“Usual answer, I’m afraid,” Bethany said soberly. “No word from Peter. This morning the boss took him off the active-duty list; he’s officially reported PMOD-provisionally missing on duty. Pay suspended subject to official contact, and so forth.”
Magda flinched. The mechanism was in motion for having him declared Missing, presumed dead.
Bethany said, trying to comfort her, “Nothing’s final yet. Maybe he found a friendly place to stay and just settled in for the winter. He couldn’t travel in this, even if he was all right.”