Page 46 of Alien Burn

“So we have.”

He lifted his hand. Sereya did not immediately move hers.

“You needn't look so concerned,” she said softly. “I didn't mind.”

That went through him more effectively than the touch.

“Neither did I.”

For a moment the water seemed very loud.

Sereya settled the cup on the bench between them, where it should have been in the first place. He watched her try to recover her composure and had the decency to attempt the same himself.

“Do you miss your home?” she asked.

He turned toward her.

“When you're here,” she added. “You said something about your father. Does he live nearby?”

“On the dark side, by the refineries. That's where I grew up.”

“What's it like?”

“Noisy. Even in the house you can hear the machinery. When I first slept away from it, I thought something had broken.”

She smiled. “Because it was quiet?”

“I went looking for someone to report it to.”

“How old were you?”

“Old enough that I won't be answering that question.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I might like the dark side.”

“Most of our visitors aren't eager to hear about ore crushers.”

“The stars,” she said. “Can you see them?”

“Beyond the refinery lights. More than you can count.”

The smile softened on her mouth. She looked past him, toward the pale strip of sky above the courtyard wall.

“I'd like that.”

He could have asked why. Where she had watched them before. There was a protected notice in his memory, and a whole life behind it that she had not offered him.

He left it there.

“There's a terrace behind my father's house,” he said. “My brother used to insist someone had to tell the stars good night before he could go to bed.”

“All of them?”

“Every one. It was an excellent way to remain awake.”

“Did you help?”

“For longer than I should have.”