al I knew."
"At any rate, you took Lefthand Thread."
"Not exactly. I took Spiral Nebula-which had been UET's Wellington, to start with-and rename'd it. Damned near caled it Hogan's Goat, it was so fucked up-but we fixed it.'
"And this ship is coming here?"
"Or to rendezvous with Inconnu-depends on the ships's situation. But it's moving now, Rissa-it al starts to move!" She looked at him-his face flushed, eyes widened-and said, "The plans you have mentioned, Bran-this is part of them?" His eyebrows lowered. "I'l tel you al of it, Rissa-soon as I know if there's a hell's chance it might work. Al right?"
"Could I not help you decide?"
His palm slapped the table; wineglasses jiggled. "Sure-when I know enough to ask the right questions. Right now, too many loose ends. Even before those damned aliens showed up."
"I could guess your plan, I think-but until you wish it, I will not." She rose and put her dishes into the cleaner; when she turned to fetch his, he was bringing them.
He had left the glasses. He said, "Let's finish this in the other room," and took bottle and glasses to a small table there. He arranged two chairs and they sat. After he poured, he looked first at the window before him, then over his shoul-der at another. "Those things should be curtained, for night. We can't see out, but somebody could see in." He looked at her. "Can you sew? There's some material in one of those bottom drawers."
"You have needles? Thread? What of hanging rods?"
"Hell, I don't know. Welding rod, off the scout-I could bend the ends and drive them in the wood. But the sewing-"
"If necessary I will staple the cloth together, as you fasten your papers. I do not mind having to improvise."
"Yeah, I've noticed." Looking down at his wine, he sipped it. "New subject. Rissa-you're here because you want to be?"
"You did not carry me to the aircar. In fact, I carried part of my own luggage and climbed inside quite without help." His hand moved, swirling wine in the glass. "You're not making this easy, are you?"
"I mean to make no difficulties. What would you ask?"
"Do you want to go to bed with me?"
"I do not expect either of us to sleep on the floor, Bran."
"Why won't you give me a direct answer?"
"I will, when you ask a direct question."
"All right! You want to fuck with me, or don't you?"
"I do-of course I do, or I would not be here."
"Then why didn't you say so?"
"I thought the matter was clear enough."
He came around the table, and raised her to stand upright. She accepted and returned his kiss-then his clothes and hers fel to the floor unheeded and she was on the bed, looking up at his taut, unsure smile.
He began gently-that much he had learned on Inconnu- but gentleness was only prelude. Their coupling was not unduly brief but, for her, was done too soon. She felt her body move to respond-but then they lay quiet, her response stopped short of fulfillment.
He sighed. "You didn't make it, did you?"
"Not this time. But I began to, Bran. So do not be in too great a hurry-nor will I-and one day it will be as we both wish."
He was off her and across the room, then back with bottle and glasses. He placed them on the bedside stand next to the intercom unit and sat on the bed beside her. His fingers stroked her belly; they reached a ticklish spot; she laughed and wriggled. Then she saw that he touched the scarred area.
"That was done at the Welfare Center. Does it disturb you?"
"Would it disturb you if I fathered heirs elsewhere and brought them home for you to raise?"
"I am not ready for such a task. Someday, perhaps-" She sat up. "Bran! Needing heirs as you do, why did you marry me?" And why have I not told him?
He lunged toward her, pushing both hands into her hair and gripping it. His face pressed against her, his lips between her breasts. His shoulders shook-and only when he raised his head did she realize he was laughing.
"Several reasons," he said. "More than you know. But the one you're asking about-well, one time
"At any rate, you took Lefthand Thread."
"Not exactly. I took Spiral Nebula-which had been UET's Wellington, to start with-and rename'd it. Damned near caled it Hogan's Goat, it was so fucked up-but we fixed it.'
"And this ship is coming here?"
"Or to rendezvous with Inconnu-depends on the ships's situation. But it's moving now, Rissa-it al starts to move!" She looked at him-his face flushed, eyes widened-and said, "The plans you have mentioned, Bran-this is part of them?" His eyebrows lowered. "I'l tel you al of it, Rissa-soon as I know if there's a hell's chance it might work. Al right?"
"Could I not help you decide?"
His palm slapped the table; wineglasses jiggled. "Sure-when I know enough to ask the right questions. Right now, too many loose ends. Even before those damned aliens showed up."
"I could guess your plan, I think-but until you wish it, I will not." She rose and put her dishes into the cleaner; when she turned to fetch his, he was bringing them.
He had left the glasses. He said, "Let's finish this in the other room," and took bottle and glasses to a small table there. He arranged two chairs and they sat. After he poured, he looked first at the window before him, then over his shoul-der at another. "Those things should be curtained, for night. We can't see out, but somebody could see in." He looked at her. "Can you sew? There's some material in one of those bottom drawers."
"You have needles? Thread? What of hanging rods?"
"Hell, I don't know. Welding rod, off the scout-I could bend the ends and drive them in the wood. But the sewing-"
"If necessary I will staple the cloth together, as you fasten your papers. I do not mind having to improvise."
"Yeah, I've noticed." Looking down at his wine, he sipped it. "New subject. Rissa-you're here because you want to be?"
"You did not carry me to the aircar. In fact, I carried part of my own luggage and climbed inside quite without help." His hand moved, swirling wine in the glass. "You're not making this easy, are you?"
"I mean to make no difficulties. What would you ask?"
"Do you want to go to bed with me?"
"I do not expect either of us to sleep on the floor, Bran."
"Why won't you give me a direct answer?"
"I will, when you ask a direct question."
"All right! You want to fuck with me, or don't you?"
"I do-of course I do, or I would not be here."
"Then why didn't you say so?"
"I thought the matter was clear enough."
He came around the table, and raised her to stand upright. She accepted and returned his kiss-then his clothes and hers fel to the floor unheeded and she was on the bed, looking up at his taut, unsure smile.
He began gently-that much he had learned on Inconnu- but gentleness was only prelude. Their coupling was not unduly brief but, for her, was done too soon. She felt her body move to respond-but then they lay quiet, her response stopped short of fulfillment.
He sighed. "You didn't make it, did you?"
"Not this time. But I began to, Bran. So do not be in too great a hurry-nor will I-and one day it will be as we both wish."
He was off her and across the room, then back with bottle and glasses. He placed them on the bedside stand next to the intercom unit and sat on the bed beside her. His fingers stroked her belly; they reached a ticklish spot; she laughed and wriggled. Then she saw that he touched the scarred area.
"That was done at the Welfare Center. Does it disturb you?"
"Would it disturb you if I fathered heirs elsewhere and brought them home for you to raise?"
"I am not ready for such a task. Someday, perhaps-" She sat up. "Bran! Needing heirs as you do, why did you marry me?" And why have I not told him?
He lunged toward her, pushing both hands into her hair and gripping it. His face pressed against her, his lips between her breasts. His shoulders shook-and only when he raised his head did she realize he was laughing.
"Several reasons," he said. "More than you know. But the one you're asking about-well, one time
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