Page 62 of Alien Burn

“You'll need to be more specific.”

“No, I won't. You noticed as soon as I said dark-haired.”

Sheira became very interested in her bread.

“What did you say to this female?” Dhomhes asked.

“I told her about the ceiling. She thought it was confident.”

There could not be two of them.

“Sereya,” Dhomhes said.

“That's her name?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I forgot to ask.” Tivek considered him. “Do you like her?”

“I met her properly this afternoon.”

“That wasn't the question.”

Ruthak made a quiet sound into his cup. It might have been a cough, if his father had ever coughed at such a useful moment in his life.

Dhomhes looked around the table. Sheira had abandoned any pretense of interest in her food.

“Yes,” he said. “I like her. We're in Courtship.”

Tivek's mouth opened. Sheira put down the bread. Dhomhes waited through a silence considerably more interested than the question had prepared him for.

“Good. So do I. You should bring her here.”

“Perhaps I should speak to her again before arranging visits.”

“All right. Speak to her again. Then bring her here.”

“An admirably simple plan.”

“You're welcome.”

Sheira offered Dhomhes the bread. He took it because doing so gave him something to look at besides the pleasure on her face.

The inspection unit's departure notice arrived as they cleared the table.

Dhomhes checked the names against the crew allocation, then sent Hawn a short update himself. Equipment moving. Fresh survey being coordinated. Still no news of Fiviel.

When he lowered his comm, Ruthak was beside the kitchen door.

“Tivek did well today,” his father said.

“He told us.”

“He wanted to tell you.”

Dhomhes glanced toward the room where his brother was now arguing cheerfully with Sheira about whether training clothes could be considered clean if they had only been worn indoors.

“He knows he can call.”