“Well, it didn’t prove to be a paradise,” Desma observed coolly. “The machinery broke down and the hatchlings fell victim to the first intelligent predators who found them.”
Cidra swallowed uncomfortably. “Don’t remind me. Do you have any idea what it’s like to know you’ve wiped out the five surviving members of an intelligent race?”
“Don’t start feeling guilty. From what you’ve told me the first hatchling was going to eat Severance for lunch. Probably would have turned on you next.”
Cidra nodded gloomily. “You know, it was strange, Desma. There’s no sense of alienness about the Ghosts. They’re different from us and we’re fascinated by them, but we’re more or less comfortable with the idea that they belonged in this system. It wasn’t the same with the blue creatures. They felt wrong, somehow. I hated that hatchling on sight.”
“Small wonder. You’ve still got your primitive human instincts, Cidra, even if you have been reared in Clementia. I’m sure those instincts were working at full strength when you saw the egg crack. Your primary reaction was to protect Severance.”
“And a brilliant reaction it was too,” declared a new voice. Cidra glanced up in surprise as Severance grabbed a vacant chair, shoved it near hers, and sank down onto it in his usual sprawl. He looked extraordinarily pleased with himself. He signaled for a mug of Renaissance Rose ale and leaned back to smile smugly at the two women.
“I take it,” Desma said, “that you have concluded a successful negotiating session?”
“Right. And you’ll be happy to know that your firm coughed up the necessary credit to get first crack at the ship.”
Desma’s eyes gleamed. “Fantastic. Who got the safehold?”
“Vinton Archaeology.”
Demsa nodded. “They’ll do a first-class job. When do you show them their new finds?”
“We leave at dawn tomorrow. It’s a big event. Four skimmers and two research crews. After I’ve helped them locate the safehold and the ship, I’m going to take one of the skimmers on up the river to the ExcellEx camp. I’ve still got those reeting sensors to deliver. You don’t mind if Cidra stays with you for a few days?”
“Of course not.”
“She’ll be returning to Lovelady on the next commercial freighter. But it doesn’t leave until the end of the week.”
Cidra cut savagely into another tuber. “How much, Severance?”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “How much what?”
“Credit. How much did you get in exchange for the locations of the safehold and the ship?” She didn’t look at him. Her whole attention was on her meal.
“Five hundred thousand.”
Cidra nearly dropped her knife. “Five hundred thousand? Sweet Harmony, that’s a fortune.”
“I know.” The ale arrived, and Severance took a healthy swallow. His eyes were glittering over the rim. “A very nice stake.”
“Five hundred thousand.” Desma’s tone was awed. “Congratulations, Severance.”
“I’ll want a recorded contract for my share, naturally,” Cidra said. “Two hundred and fifty thousand.”
Severance set down his mug with great care. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me.” She continued eating the remains of the tuber. “I’ll want a contract. Properly sealed and recorded. And I’ll want it before you leave tomorrow morning. We’d better find a contract office tonight.”
Severance’s gray eyes slitted. “Why do you want a recorded contract?”
“You know the answer to that. Remember all those games of Free Market, Severance? The one lesson you drilled into me was that you can’t trust a Wolf. Always count the cubes before you start play. In the case of a two-way split of five hundred thousand, I’ll want to get it on tape and get it recorded.”
The frozen silence at the table was broken only by die sound of Cidra continuing to eat the tuber. Desma stayed very still, watching the other two from under her lashes. Severance just stared at Cidra, his gaze brooding and malevolent.
“You don’t need a contract and you know it,” he finally said.
“How do I know it? You’re taking off for QED as soon as you get back from this little jaunt up the river. After QED, who knows where you’ll go and what you’ll do? I may never see you again.” She smiled grimly. “I have to protect my share of the profits.”
Severance continued to glare at her for another moment, and then he turned on Desma. “Did you put this idea in her head?”
Hastily Desma put up a hand. “Not me. I had nothing to do with it.”
“I,” said Cidra calmly, “thought of it all on my own.”
“This is ridiculous.” Severance’s voice was tight. He took another large swallow of ale.
“A woman alone can’t be too careful.”
“This is a form of retaliation, isn’t it? You’re madder than hell because I’m sending you back to Clementia.”
Cidra waved her fingers in a graceful, airy gesture. “I’m merely putting into practice all the things I’ve been learning recently.”
“Yeah?” He leaned closer. “And what else that you’ve teamed recently are you planning to put into practice?”
Cidra smiled gamely even though she was fully aware of the newly erratic nature of her pulse. She had to struggle to control her breathing. Severance could be very intimidating when he chose. “You needn’t concern yourself with anything except the details of splitting the credit.”
“Why, you little…” He made an obvious effort at regaining control of his own temper. Then he slammed the half empty mug down on the table and got to his feet. “You want a recorded contract? All right, you’ll get one. We’ll take care of the details right now.”
“But I haven’t finished my dinner.”
“We do it now or not at all.” He turned to Desma. “You,” he informed her, “can act as a witness.”
Desma struggled to hide her amusement. “I’ll be happy to do so.” Quickly she paid for the meal and stood. “Ready when you are.”
The deed was done in almost total silence. By the time her signature had been recorded and her voiceprint used to verify it, Cidra was almost shaking. Severance was furious. He scrawled his name beside hers, barked into the voiceprint recorder, and escorted her out of the contracts office in a chilled silence. He didn’t speak until he had deposited the women at Desma’s door. Severance stood in front of Cidra, feet braced slightly apart, one thumb hooked in his utility belt. He was the very picture of a man scorned.
