outside and have a look around. You wouldn't find much of interest, anyway. This is a pretty dull town. You stay here and guard the castle. When I return, I'm going to put this ship into space as fast as possible.
If you're not here, you'll get left behind. Clear?" He sealed the collar of his gray shipsuit as he spoke.
Cidra nodded, and then asked impulsively, "Have you ever seen a real castle, Severance?"
He glared at her. "It was a figure of speech, not an invitation to more questions."
"I've heard that the Ghosts left behind a structure that might have been a fortress," she ventured thoughtfully. "On Renaissance."
"Why don't you take a nap, Cidra?'
Her eyes widened. "I couldn't do that. You're leaving me in charge."
Severance muttered something unintelligible and started through the hatch. "That was a figure of speech too. Forget I said it. Fred is in charge. Stay out of trouble, Cidra, if you want to see Renaissance." With that he vanished into the cool Lovelorn night. The hatch hissed shut behind him, sealing and locking itself.
Cidra felt movement near her sandaled feet and looked down. Fred was investigating the hem of her black-and-silver robe. Even as she watched, Cidra saw his three rows of teeth appear. She yanked the fabric out of reach just in the nick of time.
"Don't you dare chew on my clothes! Just because you're ! the one who is officially in charge, don't get the idea you can terrorize innocent passengers." Then she smiled at the creature. Fred continued to expose this teeth, and Cidra chose to believe he was smiling back. She reached down to scoop him up into her arms and discovered it was difficult to pick up a rug. There seemedto be no stable bone structure inside Fred.
He didn't appear to mind the awkwardness of her grip, however. He simply wrapped himself around her forearm and continued to grin. Cidra looked for something resembling eyes.
"You're a Lovelady rockrug, aren't you? I've seen holotapes of your kind sunning themselves on mountain rocks. How do you like shipboard life?"
There was no answer, but the three sets of teeth disappeared into the tatty fur covering. As Fred settled down to sleep on her arm Cidra thought she saw a couple of small black eyes wink shut. It was hard to be certain because of the scraggly fur. Her arm felt pleasantly warm with the rockrug wrapped around it.
She wandered around the tiny cabin, investigating the functional, if spartan, lavatory facilities and the miniature galley with its preserver and heater. She checked the preserver to see if there were enough nonmeat food packs aboard to hold her until Renaissance. It was a limited selection, at best. Teague Severance was definitely carnivorous. Typical Wolf. Well, if he were willing to do without some of the vegetable packs, she might not starve to death. For someone who had been brought up to appreciate exquisitely prepared food, the prospect of two weeks of preserved vegetables was not a pleasant one.
But one had to make sacrifices when one set out on a quest, Cidra reminded herself as she shut the preserver. The heroes in the First Family novels always sacrificed comfort when they went adventuring.
She ought to know. She was an expert on Frist Family novels. The only real expert in dementia. She wandered over to the sleeping berths and fished around beneath Severance's bunk for her precious pack of books. Before she found it, she encountered a small metal chest wedged in behind the crate of ale.
She was far more intrigued by the unimposing storage container than she should have been, perhaps because she knew immediately that the box would contain something that was very personal to the enigmatic man who was taking her into space. For the first time in her life Cidra found herself wanting to explore the private side of another human being without waiting for an invitation. It took an amazing amount of fortitude to push the unopened chest back into the sticky storage net. But the ingrained rules of
If you're not here, you'll get left behind. Clear?" He sealed the collar of his gray shipsuit as he spoke.
Cidra nodded, and then asked impulsively, "Have you ever seen a real castle, Severance?"
He glared at her. "It was a figure of speech, not an invitation to more questions."
"I've heard that the Ghosts left behind a structure that might have been a fortress," she ventured thoughtfully. "On Renaissance."
"Why don't you take a nap, Cidra?'
Her eyes widened. "I couldn't do that. You're leaving me in charge."
Severance muttered something unintelligible and started through the hatch. "That was a figure of speech too. Forget I said it. Fred is in charge. Stay out of trouble, Cidra, if you want to see Renaissance." With that he vanished into the cool Lovelorn night. The hatch hissed shut behind him, sealing and locking itself.
Cidra felt movement near her sandaled feet and looked down. Fred was investigating the hem of her black-and-silver robe. Even as she watched, Cidra saw his three rows of teeth appear. She yanked the fabric out of reach just in the nick of time.
"Don't you dare chew on my clothes! Just because you're ! the one who is officially in charge, don't get the idea you can terrorize innocent passengers." Then she smiled at the creature. Fred continued to expose this teeth, and Cidra chose to believe he was smiling back. She reached down to scoop him up into her arms and discovered it was difficult to pick up a rug. There seemedto be no stable bone structure inside Fred.
He didn't appear to mind the awkwardness of her grip, however. He simply wrapped himself around her forearm and continued to grin. Cidra looked for something resembling eyes.
"You're a Lovelady rockrug, aren't you? I've seen holotapes of your kind sunning themselves on mountain rocks. How do you like shipboard life?"
There was no answer, but the three sets of teeth disappeared into the tatty fur covering. As Fred settled down to sleep on her arm Cidra thought she saw a couple of small black eyes wink shut. It was hard to be certain because of the scraggly fur. Her arm felt pleasantly warm with the rockrug wrapped around it.
She wandered around the tiny cabin, investigating the functional, if spartan, lavatory facilities and the miniature galley with its preserver and heater. She checked the preserver to see if there were enough nonmeat food packs aboard to hold her until Renaissance. It was a limited selection, at best. Teague Severance was definitely carnivorous. Typical Wolf. Well, if he were willing to do without some of the vegetable packs, she might not starve to death. For someone who had been brought up to appreciate exquisitely prepared food, the prospect of two weeks of preserved vegetables was not a pleasant one.
But one had to make sacrifices when one set out on a quest, Cidra reminded herself as she shut the preserver. The heroes in the First Family novels always sacrificed comfort when they went adventuring.
She ought to know. She was an expert on Frist Family novels. The only real expert in dementia. She wandered over to the sleeping berths and fished around beneath Severance's bunk for her precious pack of books. Before she found it, she encountered a small metal chest wedged in behind the crate of ale.
She was far more intrigued by the unimposing storage container than she should have been, perhaps because she knew immediately that the box would contain something that was very personal to the enigmatic man who was taking her into space. For the first time in her life Cidra found herself wanting to explore the private side of another human being without waiting for an invitation. It took an amazing amount of fortitude to push the unopened chest back into the sticky storage net. But the ingrained rules of
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