The steady roar of the rain became hypnotic. Gradually Cidra stopped thinking about what might be happening to Severance. She sat quietly and just listened to the rain, which sounded as if it would come down forever. On and on it poured, the sound driving out all other thought. Cidra drifted in her mind, staring at the curving wall of the tent.

The first, gentle call passed by her almost unnoticed. Cidra became vaguely aware of a feeling of curiosity. For some reason she was suddenly interested in exploring the world outside the tent. She shook off the odd thought. It was utterly impossible. There was no point in getting soaking wet again today. Drying off after the swim in the river had taken long enough. She dismissed the strange curiosity and went back to drifting in her mind. The rain continued to beat down on the metal tent. Outside, the charge on the deflector control panels went down two more levels.

Another soft tendril of thought curled in her head, beckoning pleasantly. Not all of Renaissance was violence and death. This was a beautiful world that had once been under control.

Cidra lifted her chin from where it had been resting on her folded arms and stared, puzzled, at the tent wall. Under control?

She wondered where that thought had sprung from. She shifted position, wishing there was something constructive she could do. This business of waiting, knowing nothing of what was happening to Severance, seemed to be affecting her brain. She wondered if he could even move in the skimmer in this rain.

There seemed to be a slight altering in the steady beat of the water. Cidra waited until she was reasonably sure of the change in intensity and then unsealed the iris opening. It did appear that the rain was lessening. The knowledge brought a measure of relief. One less obstacle for Severance to surmount.

The rain passed slowly but surely, leaving in its wake a jungle smelling fresher than usual. Cidra was surprised at the almost pleasant fragrance. Also, the squeaks and screams seemed to have faded as everything took shelter. There were a few calls from the creatures living high in the trees but no close screams. Cidra unsealed the iris closure completely and stepped outside.

The ground was muddy, but in general, the water had drained off quickly into the river. Overhead, the clouds were already breaking up. Unfortunately the sunlight was not returning with reassuring warmth. Stanza Nine was already sinking slowly over the green horizon. Cidra listened to the occasional hiss of the deflectors and shivered. She didn’t want to examine the control panel again.

She was standing near the edge of the bank, staring out over the river when she caught sight of the skimmer. Incredible relief swept through her, even as she realized that there was no accompanying hum of the craft’s engines.

“Severance!” Belatedly she realized that he was poling the floating skimmer, using a long, thick limb to keep the craft away from the bank. In complete silence the skimmer glided toward her. Cidra saw that two of the cabin walls were shattered. Frantically she scanned Severance’s body as he jumped into the shallows and pulled the craft into shore. Diazite tinkled on the deck of the boat. Cidra knew what it must have taken to shatter the tough material.

“It’s all right, Cidra. I’ve got the screens.” Wearily he made fast the boat and turned to face her.

Cidra took one look at him and knew what had happened to Racer. “Oh, Severance.” She ran forward, throwing her arms around him. He was hot and sweaty, and there was a feeling emanating from him that she could only describe as hard and bleak. It made her want to cry. Instead she hugged him even more fiercely. “I’ve been so frightened for you.”

His arms went around her. “It’s all right. It’s over.”

She didn’t ask about Racer. Instead she helped him finish securing the boat, and then she carried the screens ashore as he handed them to her from the cargo hold. The deflectors were the first concern. The old ones were stored in the skimmer as the new ones took over.

“There’s not enough power left in the fuel cells to get the skimmer off the water, but there is enough to keep the deflectors charged. I’ve stopped the fuel leak. Be careful of the diazite,” Severance added as Cidra stepped into the craft.

“I wanted to see if there are any prespacs on board.” She walked carefully forward and opened the galley bin. There were several prespacs containing meat and two containing vegetables. Gratefully she pulled out two packages—one for her and one for Severance—and shoved them into the tiny skimmer heater. Food was what Severance needed.

When she brought his heated prespac into the tent, she found him sitting on a sleeper. He looked up without much interest as she handed him the food. “Thanks.”

Cidra reached down and found the container of Renaissance Rose ale she had rescued and held it out to him with a tentative smile. He raised an eyebrow in surprise, and then his hand wrapped around it. Without a word he downed a good portion of the brew.

“You know how to welcome a man home,” he said. Then he slipped back into his bleak silence.

They ate without talking for several minutes. Cidra was aching to ask questions but afraid to interrupt whatever thoughts were going through Severance’s head. He seemed very remote this evening. More distant than she had ever seen him. When he finally spoke, it was to give her a few facts.

“The communication equipment has to have a chance to dry out completely. It’s housed in the engine compartment, and that got flooded. We won’t be able to make any calls until morning.” He went back to chewing methodically.

Cidra hesitated and then asked, “What if the comm equipment doesn’t work when it’s dried out?”

“The worst possible case is that we have to pole the skimmer down the river the way I did this afternoon. It’s slow going and there are some risks, but it works. We’ll do it that way if necessary.” Severance lapsed back into silence.

Cidra could think of nothing to say, no way to break through the barrier that existed between them. In silence they prepared for bed, crawling into separate sleepers. For a long time Cidra lay awake, aware that Severance was staring into the darkness,

“Severance?”

“What is it, Cidra?”

“You had to kill him, didn’t you?”

“I killed him.” The words were flat, final.

Cidra lay in silence, wondering what to say next. Severance needed comfort, and she knew he would never ask for it. She wasn’t even sure how to go about offering it to him. But then she felt that trying was pointless. He would reject it.

But after another long silence Cidra shifted in the darkness. She unfastened her sleeper. And then she reached out to unfasten Severance’s sleeper.




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