Page 40 of Alien Burn

Sereya looked at her.

Roemary stopped. Her eyes flicked toward the dark communications panel.

“Another delay? Your uncle is losing patience.” The male voice came from the panel.

Roemary struck the control. The screen stayed dark, the voice gone.

“An old connection,” Roemary said. “It should have closed.”

“My father,” she said. “He has put a great deal into this program.”

People, Sereya thought.

She said nothing.

Roemary touched the sleeve of her gray tunic and smoothed a wrinkle that wasn't there.

“I'm tired. It's been a wretched two days. And you know how he worries.”

“Of course.”

“There will be other opportunities. A reception, once they remember they have guests. We will try again.”

Sereya nodded.

Roemary studied her for another moment, then let go of the sleeve.

“Don't wander off without telling me. If someone asks where you are, I need to know what to say.”

Sereya waited until she was in her own room before taking off the gray tunic.

The russet one lay folded where she had left it. She picked it up, held it for a moment, then put it back.

She had understood Roemary's ambitions on the ship. At least she had thought she did. An important mate. A place everyone else wanted. The satisfaction of being chosen in front of an audience.

Someone to answer to had never been part of it.

Sereya sat on the edge of the bed. The skin beneath her dressing was beginning to itch, and her feet still felt cool from the pool.

She thought of Roemary at the communications panel. The untouched drink. The sudden need to know exactly what Sereya had said to Dhomhes.

There were questions she could have asked downstairs. Questions someone responsible for their safety might have answered.

She had come back to the suite instead.

On the service panel, she found the courtyard on the residence map. It was inside the guarded boundary. Open to guests. No appointment needed.

She traced the route from her door until she was certain she could find it again.

Then she laid the russet tunic over the chair for morning.

7

DHOMHES

The search report blamed a fault line on the wrong side of the mountain.

Dhomhes read it again. It was midday on the third day since the ship's arrival, and the search was losing more time.