He stormed into the Down Time and snapped out an order for a triple. He knocked it back, then ordered another. Gotta calm doom before I face her again. Goldie’d been right about that much, at least. He couldn’t talk to her in this frame of mind He had to recapture his composure, marshall his arguments, decide to approach the very serious problem her rebelliousness had raised.
But…
Whatever possessed the brainless little fool to do it?
”Worse than you,” Malcolm had said
Kit winced and downed another triple Great. That was just great. All he needed to make his life complete was a seventeen-year-old female carbon copy of himself bent on raising hell everywhere she turned her ambitious little gaze.
He was tempted to haul her kicking and screaming to Primary and toss her bodily through it. But that wouldn’t do any good She’d just come back Or go to another station and try it from there. He had to find a way to reason with her, convince her to keep training, that she wasn’t ready despite marginal success in surviving Rome.
The problem was, Kit had no idea how to go about it.
Everything he did or said only made matters worse.
So he delayed the inevitable and ordered another triple. just one more for fortitude. Then he’d face her. Lonely old man, she’d called him. Well, that much was true: He was lonely and he was afraid of losing her. But that wasn’t the reason he was holding her back. Surely he could find a way to convince her of that?
Yeah, right, just lake I convinced Sarah to stack by me.