Page 35 of Alien Burn

He asked for Roemary's official correspondence to join the incident file, then looked again at Sereya's name. He hoped someone had stayed long enough to reassure her properly.

He left the protected notice where it was. If he wanted to know how she was, he could ask her.

The terrain-team query had reached yet another office. He took its acknowledgment downstairs to the search commander.

6

SEREYA

Sereya went looking for tea before Roemary woke.

She had slept badly, her hand ached, and the service panel offered drinks she couldn't pronounce. The guard directed her toward the breakfast gallery.

At the carved archway, she heard laughter. Dhomhes stood with a younger male carrying a practice weapon. He was smiling without the polite expression he had used in the hall.

He looked tired. There was a crease in his jacket and the same dressing around his hand. But he was smiling, and when the younger male started to leave, Dhomhes caught his shoulder and said something that made him stay.

Sereya slowed.

The exchange became more serious. She was too far away to hear it clearly, and the last thing she needed was to be found lingering around a Gol-Vett's private conversation.

She slowed, then turned into the gallery before anyone could find her lingering.

An attendant helped her choose tea.

As she took it to a table overlooking the courtyard, the younger male passed the doorway walking backward, making a gesture omitted from the Galactic Alliance's etiquette lessons.

Dhomhes followed and collected bread. When she looked up, he was watching her. His fingers flexed beside the plate, a hard ridge showing briefly at his wrist.

Sereya lowered her cup. He had looked at her like that on the ramp, before everything broke.

Someone called to him from the service door. He turned, caught his sleeve on a chair, and paused to free it. She hid a smile against her cup as he left.

Sereya drank her tea while it was still hot.

When they returned for breakfast, Roemary chose the table by the pillar.

“There.”

Sereya had been hoping for the little table she had used earlier. It looked toward a courtyard where water spilled quietly into a shallow pool. From there she couldn't see the ruined landing site.

The pillar table faced the main doors.

She sat.

The gallery smelled of warm bread and something sharp and sweet being cut into slices at the serving counter. Most of the volunteers wore the same supplied clothes in different colors. One had rolled her sleeves nearly to the elbows. Another was attempting to fasten a belt that had plainly been made for someone twice her width.

Roemary had found a cream tunic that suited her. She had made Sereya change out of a russet one into gray.

“It brings out the mark on your face,” she had said.

Sereya had liked the russet.

An attendant brought plates and showed them which dishes had been cleared for their species. Sereya took bread and a piece of pale fruit with red seeds inside. The first bite was tart enough to make her mouth water.

She took another.

“He comes through here,” Roemary said.