Page 136 of Alien Burn

“Adryel. On the ship. About Roemary. Only that she was planning something. I didn't know what.”

“I saw you sitting together.”

“I don't know whether it helped.”

“You gave her what you knew.”

Sereya turned the cup between her hands.

“She thanked me.”

The surprise in her voice hurt him.

“I expect she meant it.”

“Yes.” Sereya's mouth softened. “I think she did.”

For a little while they drank the tea. It was too strong. He liked it better than anything he had been brought all afternoon.

“I thought there would be fewer pipes,” she said.

He looked toward the window. It faced an illuminated crossing of lines between two buildings, an impressive view if one's interests happened to be pressure and flow.

“There are places with fewer pipes.”

“You sound doubtful.”

“I'm trying to remember where.”

She laughed. He had wanted that sound all day.

“I was promised stars,” she said.

“You were.”

“I'm willing to wait for a better view.”

He set down his cup.

“I used to sit above one of the old service sheds. When the shift lights dimmed, you could see a strip of sky between the towers.”

“Were you supposed to be up there?”

“Certainly not.”

“Did Tivek learn all his habits from you?”

“A slanderous suggestion.”

She smiled into her cup.

He watched the lamp catch the curve of her cheek, the loose fall of dark hair against her shoulder. The room smelled of tea and clean fabric. Beyond the wall, the refinery kept working.

He could have stayed.

The burn had followed him through every corridor since he'd left her. Here it sharpened with each small movement she made: her fingers against the cup, her bare foot tucked under the chair. He had arranged his life to leave easily. Now he sat close enough to touch her and dreaded the moment he would have to get up.

“You have to go,” she said.