“To what do I owe the honour?” Soghra’s question was directed at John, even if his attention wasn’t.
“It’s pretty quiet at themoment,” John answered casually.
“Yes, it is.”
“I mean, this whole sector’spretty quiet.”
“Most of these worlds are stillquite primitive.”
John smiled to himself. He wasright about one thing. Soghra’s knowledge of the galaxy was extensive. However, it was not something he shared readily. He preferred to amuse himselfat the expense of others, waiting and watching while someone struggled for daysor weeks over an answer he could easily have supplied.
With his mind distracted, histongue was looser than usual. For well over fifteen minutes, he talked freelywith John, who deliberately kept almost half the conversation away from itsmain topic.
McReidy’s mood simmered and shebarely listened to them. She played with herdrink; stirring the ice chips around with her straw, and taking small, slowsips. Then she took the sprig of lemon from the rim and dropped it into herdrink, pushing it to the bottom with her straw. She stabbed at it, attempting tosquash out what little juice it had.
John knew her discomfort. Avoiding her look at all costs, he suddenly felt in sympathy with the lemon.
He watched while she fingered herstraw; noticed how the tips of her long fingers trailed slowly down the length ofthe glass when she put it down, causing the condensation to trickle afterthem. He heard the short sharp intake of air and incorrectly believed it to beSoghra.
“You know,” Soghra paused,changing the subject yet again. “The lieutenant commander doesn’t say verymuch.”
McReidy’s eyes lifted from herdrink, looking to one then the other, and back again. She blushed as sherealised that she had become the topic of conversation.
“And she blushes so beautifully.”
John couldn’t help the grin thatcovered his face. He grimaced slightly as a boot connected with his shin underthe table. But he had no immediate counter to Soghra’s comment.
“I guess we really should begoing,” he finally decided.
“Perhaps the lieutenant commander–”
“The lieutenant commander hasother duties to attend to.” John swallowed the last mouthful of rum, puttinghis glass down and rising to his feet. The subject was closed; theconversation ended.
McReidy remained seated. Provinga point, John figured as she swirled the dregs of her drink around in theglass, and slurped a long sip through the straw that was more air than liquid.
Soghra sighed deeply at theirimpending departure.
McReidy put her glass down,pushing it towards Soghra. “Thank you,” she managed politely, then rose slowlyto her feet and moved past John towards the door.
“Commander,” Soghra leanedtowards John and lowered his voice. “As much as I enjoyed the company, thenext time you want something, try asking.”
Now it was John’s turn to blushslightly. He glanced to McReidy but her lack of response told him she hadmoved out of earshot.
“Captain Decker and I had an…arrangement. I believe that now extends to you. We will discuss it sometime.”
John nodded. His curiosity wouldhave liked to discuss it now. Common sense told him he had other matters moreimportant. He owed McReidy an apology. One he didn’t think she would acceptgraciously.
She turned on him as soon as thedoor closed and they were alone in the corridor. “How dare you do that to me!”
He opened his mouth to saysomething, but knew she wasn’t going to let him.
“Do you know how used I feel? Ithought you had some sort of respect. Especially after that incident withSenator Bela. I guess I was wrong.”
“I –”
“Don’t interrupt me! I haven’tfinished with you!”
Her hands were clenched in fistsby her side. The murderous look in her eyes confirmed the power of restraintthat stopped her from hitting him. Enraged, she had a temper to match hisown. And he was the only one capable of bringing it out.
“I’m sorry. It –” he managed toget out.
“Sorry? Sorry doesn’t begin tocover it.”
A fist pounded into his chest. He grabbed her wrist in case she decided to do it again and reached for herother one. It was still firmly by her side.
“You know that striking asuperior officer is an offence,” he tried to lighten the mood.
“When I strike you, you’ll knowabout it!” she warned.
“Calm down.”
“I am calm!”
No, she wasn’t. John could feelher anger as she pulled against his grip. He refused to let her go. He didn’twant to hurt her, hadn’t meant to. But he now saw that he had. And it washurt, not anger, that upset her.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Ididn’t think –”
“That’s just it. You don’tthink.”
She let out a low growl andrelaxed a little and he released his grip.
“If you had asked me first,” shecontinued. “But then, that never was your strong point.”
She had him there. She waswaiting for an answer that he didn’t have. The anger was gone; the hurt stillremained.
He took a step back, sliding his handthrough his hair and over the back of his head.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’dget this upset.”
“It’s not what you did, it’s theway you did it.”
He opened his mouth to apologiseagain but her glare cut him off and he changed tack. “Let’s get back to thebridge. We’ve got work to do.”
Their boots echoed along thesilent corridor for a minute before McReidy broke the tension.
“Don’t think I’ve forgiven you.”
“Not for a minute.” The commentwas directed more at himself.
*
Lynn was beside Giacomo atnavigation, the two in quiet discussion. He nodded as she pointed to variouspoints on her console, his expression alternating between questioning andunderstanding. His attention and his hands shifted between navigation and thehelm as his soft words had her nodding.
“Sorry,” Giacomo apologised whenhe saw McReidy standing off to one side.
“We’re finished here,” Lynn added, quickly vacating McReidy’s seat.
John slipped his hand into hispocket and pulled out a miniature recorder. He had recorded the conversationwith Soghra, hoping there would be some useful information put forward abouttheir location and the peoples they might encounter.
“Lynn.”
“Sir?” she turned to John.
“Log it and map it.” He tossedher the tape and took his chair.
“Yes, sir.” Lynn caught the tapeand headed to the bridge door.
McReidy took her seat, her moodfiltering
