her shoulders, the closeness of his body.
She felt herself blushing again.
"Here we are," he said a moment later, stopping before her little cabin.
"Home again, home again, jiggety-jig. Now I want you to march yourself straight to bed. No studying, no nothing, understand?" He gave her a mock-severe glance.
"Yes, Doctor," she said meekly.
He put two fingers under her chin and tipped her face up, his dark eyes studying her intently. Mahree caught her breath as their gazes locked. He's going to kiss me, she thought for a dizzy moment, then her common sense reasserted itself like a dash of icy water. No, of course he's not.
"Your color isn't good," he said, studying her. "And I don't 40
like the looks of those circles under your eyes. Seriously, do you need something to help you sleep?"
She swallowed. "No, I'll be fine." Even after he dropped his hand, Mahree found that she couldn't look away, that her eyes seemed determined to memorize the details of his face. The roughness beginning to darken his chin and jaw, the new lines etched around his eyes and mouth, the finger-combed dark curls. She felt a sudden, nearly irresistible urge to raise her hand and smooth his hair into place.
Stop it, she ordered herself, turning away with a jerk, abruptly afraid that he'd noticed--but his voice was unchanged. "Okay, if you're sure," he said. "
'Night Mahree."
"Good night," she said, letting the door slide shut behind her. She leaned against the wall until her heartbeat slowed and her stomach steadied, then took a deep breath, feeling drained. The green beans, she thought suddenly, I forgot to remind him that we have to rig the climbing strings tomorrow.
Quickly she left her cabin and headed back down the corridor toward his, her steps taking her along automatically. She was halfway there when she heard it: a woman's low, throaty murmuring, then a man's voice.
Rob's voice.
Mahree stopped in mid-stride, then cautiously tiptoed to the intersection and peered down the left corridor. She was just in time to see Yoki palm open the door to her cabin and disappear inside. Rob was only a half step behind her.
The door slid shut. Mahree heard the privacy lock activate with a small, distinct snick.
41
CHAPTER 4
Tempest Fidgit
Dear Diary: I hate him. I hate her. I don't want to talk about it!!!
"Pi, of course," said Jerry decisively. The Communications Chief and Mahree sat hunched over a table in the galley, the terminal on, but nearly obscured by printout flimsies. "That's comparatively easy for the computer to render with a holosketch. We can carry it out to fifteen or twenty places, so they can use that to cross-check their translation of our numbers."
"Pi was certainly the first concept I came up with," Mahree said. "But then I thought of a couple of others. 'Star,' 'planet,' 'moon'--we can demonstrate all of them by presenting a schematic of their own solar system."
"Of course!" Jerry's broad features creased into a grin. "And, more than that, we can probably do 'asteroid,' 'comet,' and maybe 'ring.' "
"Right. And those lead to 'orbit,' and 'year.' They're more abstract, but the computer should be able to illustrate them using a sequence of images."
"Another constant is the speed of light. But first we'll have to figure out their units of measurement."
Mahree nodded. "That brings us back to numbers. But we can 41
42
illustrate them with dots. You know, one dot beside the numeral one, two dots beside the numeral two, and so forth."
"I already thought of that," Jerry said, fumbling through flimsies to produce a sketch. "This what you meant?"
"Yeah, and we can just keep working our way up all the way to scientific notation."
"Providing their system has visual scanners."
"Ours does, so why shouldn't theirs?"
"Don't forget, Mahree, that all we've gotten from them so far are radio waves.
On Earth they produced radio waves from television broadcasts that escaped into space long before they had computers that were past the
She felt herself blushing again.
"Here we are," he said a moment later, stopping before her little cabin.
"Home again, home again, jiggety-jig. Now I want you to march yourself straight to bed. No studying, no nothing, understand?" He gave her a mock-severe glance.
"Yes, Doctor," she said meekly.
He put two fingers under her chin and tipped her face up, his dark eyes studying her intently. Mahree caught her breath as their gazes locked. He's going to kiss me, she thought for a dizzy moment, then her common sense reasserted itself like a dash of icy water. No, of course he's not.
"Your color isn't good," he said, studying her. "And I don't 40
like the looks of those circles under your eyes. Seriously, do you need something to help you sleep?"
She swallowed. "No, I'll be fine." Even after he dropped his hand, Mahree found that she couldn't look away, that her eyes seemed determined to memorize the details of his face. The roughness beginning to darken his chin and jaw, the new lines etched around his eyes and mouth, the finger-combed dark curls. She felt a sudden, nearly irresistible urge to raise her hand and smooth his hair into place.
Stop it, she ordered herself, turning away with a jerk, abruptly afraid that he'd noticed--but his voice was unchanged. "Okay, if you're sure," he said. "
'Night Mahree."
"Good night," she said, letting the door slide shut behind her. She leaned against the wall until her heartbeat slowed and her stomach steadied, then took a deep breath, feeling drained. The green beans, she thought suddenly, I forgot to remind him that we have to rig the climbing strings tomorrow.
Quickly she left her cabin and headed back down the corridor toward his, her steps taking her along automatically. She was halfway there when she heard it: a woman's low, throaty murmuring, then a man's voice.
Rob's voice.
Mahree stopped in mid-stride, then cautiously tiptoed to the intersection and peered down the left corridor. She was just in time to see Yoki palm open the door to her cabin and disappear inside. Rob was only a half step behind her.
The door slid shut. Mahree heard the privacy lock activate with a small, distinct snick.
41
CHAPTER 4
Tempest Fidgit
Dear Diary: I hate him. I hate her. I don't want to talk about it!!!
"Pi, of course," said Jerry decisively. The Communications Chief and Mahree sat hunched over a table in the galley, the terminal on, but nearly obscured by printout flimsies. "That's comparatively easy for the computer to render with a holosketch. We can carry it out to fifteen or twenty places, so they can use that to cross-check their translation of our numbers."
"Pi was certainly the first concept I came up with," Mahree said. "But then I thought of a couple of others. 'Star,' 'planet,' 'moon'--we can demonstrate all of them by presenting a schematic of their own solar system."
"Of course!" Jerry's broad features creased into a grin. "And, more than that, we can probably do 'asteroid,' 'comet,' and maybe 'ring.' "
"Right. And those lead to 'orbit,' and 'year.' They're more abstract, but the computer should be able to illustrate them using a sequence of images."
"Another constant is the speed of light. But first we'll have to figure out their units of measurement."
Mahree nodded. "That brings us back to numbers. But we can 41
42
illustrate them with dots. You know, one dot beside the numeral one, two dots beside the numeral two, and so forth."
"I already thought of that," Jerry said, fumbling through flimsies to produce a sketch. "This what you meant?"
"Yeah, and we can just keep working our way up all the way to scientific notation."
"Providing their system has visual scanners."
"Ours does, so why shouldn't theirs?"
"Don't forget, Mahree, that all we've gotten from them so far are radio waves.
On Earth they produced radio waves from television broadcasts that escaped into space long before they had computers that were past the
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