Day of the Dragonstar by Thomas F. Monteleone, David Bischoff Page A

say?”
    “Phineas, I accept the fact that you care more about this blasted job of yours than you care about me. Just don’t shove it in my face. You won’t have to worry about me.” She turned on him quickly, frowning. “I’ll just make sure I don’t make the mistake of that Snipecrew and follow the more stupid of your orders. My number one exercise of that resolution will be to ignore your demand that I don’t go on the mission.”
    He cringed a bit as though he had been slapped. Stunned, he took a step back. Then his face hardened: his neck muscles tensed. “Verywell, Becky. I . . . I’m sorry to try and persuade you against doing what you want. I’ll see you before you leave.” He turned around and began to walk away. “Maybe.”
    “Phineas. I didn’t mean to phrase it that way.”
    He ignored her, and continued walking, his footsteps echoing softly in the corridor.
    Becky sighed shallowly. Men! They refuse to open up, and when you desperately try to get some emotion out of them with a jab, they reel and then run away from you! Why the hell had she gotten involved with Phineas Kemp, surely one of the worst of the Iot! For two years she’d been seeing him, and it had always been this way, never improving. Why? Why? Because he was handsome and strong? He was that, certainly. Something melted inside of her when she looked at him. Because he was good in bed? Yes, that too. The best she’d had as far as endurance and technique went. Because he reminded her of her father? Very much so. And at least Phineas never slapped her around.
    Because of all those reasons, and because she respected him for his competence. Trusted him. He never lied. Maybe it was because he lacked the imagination, but still it was a sight better than a lot of men she had known whose egos and relationships were propped upon an elaborate structure of dissembling and self-delusion. But above all, there was a part of her that helplessly surrendered to him , immersed itself deeply in his being when he was around. It was deep and it was love, no question. He said he loved her too, and perhaps he did in his way. But he refused to surrender to her, give himself to her as she did to him.
    So, she figured if she gave him a taste of his own medicine, showed him she was fully as competent as he, competed withhim (oh how he relished competition), they might at least be able to begin to discuss things on equal terms. God, how condescending he was sometimes . . .
    Oh, dammit! Don’t even think about the self-righteous jerk, Becky told herself. Do what you want to do, she thought as she reached the lift which would take her to her apartment.
    She did want to go on the mission, and not only to prove herself. Indeed, she felt a sense of awe about the thing. As a specialist in biology and space medicine, extraterrestrial life had always been one of her consuming interests. To think that she was going to have theopportunity to actually examine evidence of it!
    She concentrated on this as she entered the lift, struggling very hard not to think of Colonel Phineas Kemp.
    For the first time in their relationship, she wanted to think of herself first, herself as the most important person in her life. It was difficult to do that when you were in love with someone, she knew, but there always comes a time when you have to stop thinking about the other person to the exclusion of your own happiness. Just how happy was Phineas Kemp making her anyway?
    A tough question to answer.
    She reached her apartment level, left the lift, and walked slowly down the corridor to her door. Palming the lock and entering the small living space, Becky paused to look around the room. A picture of Phineas on the dresser portrayed him in his best media-image — waving to the the cameras as he emerged from an orbital lander, holding his helmet jauntily under his left arm, an award-winning smile on comely face. It was the Phineas Kemp that the world knew well; Becky wished there was a more