Nigel Findley - Into the Void

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His hesitation was long enough for Rianna to notice. Her warm smile faded a little. "If you'd rather not…" she said quietly, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

Quickly he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "No," he answered, "I'd like to." He took the chair she had indicated. It was close to her, close enough for him to notice a subtle aroma. Some kind of musky perfume? None of the other women aboard wore scent. Or was it just her natural fragrance? He sat in the chair a little stiffly, then forced himself to relax. For the first time, he had the opportunity to study the woman from close up. At this range, it was possible to be a little more critical. Taken individually, her features weren't as perfect as they appeared from a distance. Her mouth, for example, was a little large for her face, filled with white teeth. When she smiled, her upper lip pulled back to display a line of pink gum. Her jawline was hard, giving her a "stubborn" chin.

But that was nit-picking. When he looked into Rianna's face, it was the totality that mattered, the way the individual features combined into a harmonious whole. He had to admit that Rianna Wyvernsbane was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen, let alone spoken to.

He'd never been good at judging women's ages-and that fact had gotten him into minor trouble on occasion. Rianna simply reinforced the fact. Initially he'd guessed that she was around twenty summers. Now he had to revise that estimate upward. The laugh-lines around her eyes were deeper and remained visible-if only as a network of spiderweb-thin traces-even when her face was in repose. The eyes themselves were clear and steady and seemed to contain wisdom out of keeping with someone as young as his original guess. If he were forced to estimate now, he'd have to say she was about his own age, maybe even a couple of years older.

If Rianna noticed his close appraisal, she gave no sign. "I remember you were here when I first arrived," she said, "so you know who I am…." She let the statement trail off.

"My name is Aldyn Brewer," Teldin told her, a name that Estriss had suggested he use. Its rhythm was much die same as his real name, as were the sounds of its individual syllables. The illithid had reasoned that Teldin would be better able to remember-and respond to-a name with a cadence similar to his own.

"Aldyn Brewer," Rianna repeated. The name sounded so much better rolling off her tongue, Teldin thought. "Did you come here looking for me, Aldyn Brewer?"

"No," Teldin answered honestly. "I often come here to relax."

"To be alone with the stars," Rianna amplified. "Yes. That's why I came here. I miss it, being on a big ship. That's what I liked about the Ghost. Alone with the stars for days, weeks at a time. Do you like your own company, Aldyn Brewer?" Her voice was slow, lazy, as though she were merely vocalizing her wandering thoughts.

"Sometimes," he replied, "but I enjoy conversation, too."

She chuckled throatily. "Well spoken. What kind of conversation would you enjoy now?"

He shrugged, returning her smile. "Any that you'd care to give me."

"Ah-" she laughed "-the give and take of witty repartee. All right, then. Where do you hail from, Aldyn Brewer?"

Teldin's stomach went cold. He had a false name, but no false story to go with it. He desperately searched his memory. "From Wayspace," he said, clutching at the name of a crystal shell that Aelfred had mentioned visiting. "From Waypoint," he said, naming what he thought he recalled being the major world in that sphere. When she nodded, he asked, with a sinking feeling, "Do you know it?"

She shook her head. "Know it, no," she answered. "Know of it, yes. I've heard the name, but I don't know much about it. Tell me about your life on Waypoint, Aldyn."

"It's not that interesting," Teldin mumbled uncomfortably.

Rianna wasn't going to be put off that easily. "Perhaps not to you," she pointed out, "but I like learning everything I can about other worlds: the feel of the world, what it's like to live there." She sat up straighter in her chair and tucked her booted feet beneath her. Hugging her knees, she smiled at him again. "What did you do on Waypoint, Aldyn Brewer?" One part of Teldin's mind-the logical part-was telling him this was crazy, dangerous. He should make some excuse and get himself out of here right now. Another part admitted that this was the last thing he wanted to do. With Rianna sitting near him, and her fragrance in his nostrils, he certainly didn't want to leave. In any case, he found himself reasoning, he should be able to keep the topic of conversation away from anything sensitive. This would be good practice if he had to do it under other, more dangerous, circumstances.

Thus reassured, he relaxed back into his chair. "I was a farmer," he told her with a smile, "nothing interesting."

She shook her head, and her golden curls danced. "Don't undervalue yourself," she told him. "You left your world to seek adventure in space, didn't you? How many people actually do that? One in a hundred thousand? One in a million? You did. I find that interesting. Tell me about your farm. Was it yours?"

"My father's," Teldin answered, "but I ran it, ever since I came back from…" He paused. He'd almost said "back from the wars." He had to be more careful. "… from military training," he concluded quickly.

"Your land has an army?"

"I think all lands do," Teldin answered honestly.

She grinned. "Perhaps. What did you grow, Aldyn?"

"Some of everything," Teldin replied. He was beginning to enjoy this, despite-or maybe because of-the knowledge that he was taking a risk. "We were self-sufficient and grew enough to sell. We weren't rich-far from it-but we were comfortable. It was a good life, a pleasant life."

"But too dull, else you'd never have left to come into space, right?" She nodded as if answering her own question. "Were you married?"

"No. Never."

"Why not?" Rianna's grin grew mischievous. "Were you having too much fun breaking farm maids' hearts? Would marriage have put too great a limit on your freedom?"

Teldin shook his head firmly. "No," he answered again. "I just never found the tight woman. Maybe-" he had to smile at his own unaccustomed flight of rhetoric "-maybe that's why I left home, to seek her among the stars."

Rianna's eyes sparkled like emeralds. Her laugh seemed to thrill through Teldin's body. "Would you bow her if you found her, Aldyn Brewer?" she asked.

"Who's to say I haven't, Rianna Wyvernsbane?" he joked.

The woman laughed again. "If all men of Waypoint are as silver-tongued as you, maybe the place is worth a visit, but you know, it's interesting…." Her voice took on a musing tone, but her gaze was steady and appraising. "I always thought that Waypoint was a desert world, and all you could farm there was dust and lizards."

Teldin had felt like he was drifting through a warm, comfortable dream. Now reality struck him like a bucket of cold water. Stupid, he cursed himself. He'd let himself get blinded by Rianna's beauty and apparent friendliness, and she'd led him straight into a stupid contradiction. Damn it! She knew he was biding something. What else did she know?

The woman's green eyes were still on him. Well, he thought, he could at least do some damage control, "That must be the southern hemisphere you're thinking of," he said as casually as he could manage. "Well, it's been a pleasure, Rianna…." He started to climb to his feet, but Rianna reached out a hand and took his arm.

"No, don't," she said quietly. "Don't leave yet."

The woman's grip on his arm was surprisingly firm. Teldin could have broken it, but not without some effort. And, even now, he had to admit he didn't want to break it. He took his seat again.

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