Sweet Starfire

remembered Severance’s bouts of heavy exercise and even heavier consumption of ale. Most of all she remembered the night he had pulled her down across his thighs and told her he needed a woman. “Oh, I understand.”

    He shot her a sidelong glance as he propelled her toward the ship. “It’s wonderful traveling with an educated woman.” Cidra smiled wryly. “As long as you’re going to stash me, why not in a hotel? Why do I have to go to your friend’s homer’
    “You’ll be more comfortable with Desma,” he informed her cryptically. “Hotels in Try Again can get a little rough.”
    Desma Kady was something of a surprise to Cidra. The older woman was large without being fat; she was tall and commanding with pale blue eyes that held intelligence and humor in fairly equal proportions. Her face had once been beautiful and had matured into a combination of features that could best be described as striking and interesting. There was a forceful personality in that face, and Cidra liked it.
    Desma met Severance and Cidra at the entrance to a long building fashioned of triaton walls and diazite windows. Cidra knew the diazite had been tempered for extra strength because it had the peculiar yellow cast the process produced. She wondered why the already tough, clear material had needed to be turned into virtual armor for this building. Desma was wearing a one-piece white jumpsuit, the kind usually worn by lab workers.
    “Severance! You’re back. Bring me my new scope?” Desma laughed engagingly, including Cidra in the welcome.
    “Have I ever failed you, Desma?” Severance held out the package he had retained when the rest of the mail had gone into temporary storage at the terminal.
    “Never. It’s one of the things that makes you so wonderful.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek in a motherly fashion, and then she smiled at Cidra. “Otanna, you are most welcome. You honor my home.”
    The formal greeting was a soothing balm on Cidra’s ears. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed the small, socially comforting rituals of Clementia. Although she was no Harmonic, this woman obviously knew the ceremonies. With a sense of gratitude Cidra inclined her head.
    “You are most gracious, Otanna Kady. I thank you for your generosity, and I regret the inconvenience of my sudden arrival.”
    “The inconvenience is as nothing. Please do not regard it.”

    Severance stepped in before Cidra could follow up with the next formal statement. He must have remembered that this could go on for a long time before a ritualistic conclusion was reached. “That’s enough, both of you. Desma, this is Cidra Rainforest. She’s not really a Harmonic; she just looks like one because she was born and raised in Clementia. A clear-cut case of an overeducated female. Cidra, meet Desma Kady. She’s another female with a lot of education. Mostly in the biological sciences.”

    Cidra made some quick connections in her mind and then once again inclined her head, this time adding the nuance of deep respect. “Of course. Desma Kady. A most distinguished specialist in the field of bioluminescence. I read your last monograph when I was preparing to enter it into the Archive computers. The one on the Rigor Mortis Mantis.”
    Desma laughed in delight, dropping the formality. “That’s me. The lady who works with bugs that glow in the dark. Where did you find Severance?”
    “In a tavern,” Cidra said honestly.
    “That doesn’t surprise me. What were you doing in the sort of place he’d hang out in?”
    “Looking for transportation to Renaissance.” Cidra smiled proudly. “I’m a member of his crew.”
    Desma flashed a quick glance at Severance. “Is that right?”
    “She’s on a crew contract, Desma, not a convenience contract. Mind if we go inside? It’s hotter than a miner’s temper out here.”
    “You don’t want to come into the lab. It’s no cooler in there.” Desma looked at Cidra. “Have to keep it at normal Renaissance temperature and humidity. The bugs like it that way. Let’s go to the house.”
    She started off, leaving Severance and Cidra to follow her next door to a smaller, company-built structure that looked much like all the other standard-issue, company-built housing Cidra had seen in Port Try Again. The structure was the usual octagonal design, the rooms inside cut up like pieces of a pie under a convex roof. Deliciously cool air awaited beyond the invisible electronic grid of the