Free Mind Guest by Sharon Green Page A

pay the price and count myself lucky, there had been times when it had been higher. I watched the man in front of me carefully, waiting for his first move, but for some reason it didn’t come. He just stood and frowned down at me, finally shaking his head.
    “If you’re expecting me to start a fist fight with you, you can forget it,” he said, his tone flat and final. “Despite your generous offer, I don’t make a habit of fist-fighting with women – even when they deserve a good swatting at the very least. All you can expect from me is the swatting, but I’ll choose my own time and place, thanks. I’m used to setting up my own schedules.”
    I watched him walk between Dameron and me and head for the door, and once it had closed behind him I couldn’t help shaking my head the way he had.
    “What in the name of the deep endless dark was he talking about?” I asked no one in particular, then looked at Dameron. “And what’s a swatting?”
    “He was trying to tell you that he doesn’t beat up on women even when they’re expecting him to,” Dameron answered, leaning back against the wall by the door with folded arms. “How did all that happen to get started?”
    “He came in and immediately began asking me all sorts of questions,”
    I explained, still feeling the urge to shake my head. “I decided that it was enough for you and your second to know about me, and we didn’t need baby to make three. I had the choice of telling him what to do with his questions and thereby starting a fight, or conning him and keeping it peaceful. Believe it or not, I decided to keep it peaceful.”
    “Do all of your people use the same definition of peaceful?” Dameron asked with a snort of amusement. “If they do, I can’t wait until we’re in full contact with them. And for your information, Valdon is my second in command. He wasn’t there when I was questioning you – a small crisis had come up that needed seeing to – and he was probably trying to find out what he’d missed. Looks like he got more than he bargained for.”
    “He should have told me who he was,” I said with a shrug, ready to dismiss the whole thing. “I usually use restraint when dealing with an ally. And speaking about dealing, now that your urgent errand is seen to, let’s take that walk and do a little dealing of our own. I think I can safely say you owe it to your people to get me out of here as soon as possible.”
    “You may be right about that.” he nodded, still sticking to his piece of wall. “But when you talk about my urgent errand having been seen to, don’t start assuming it was seen to successfully. Flantoril, the post 9 fighter who just came in, can’t do the job I need her for. The only reason she’s back here is to be treated for the wounds she took in a recent fight; if she hadn’t been brought back, she would have died. Healing will keep her alive, but only if she doesn’t have to go through a second session of Healing to change her into Bellna.
    Rumanoids from her home sector don’t react well to too much. Healing.
    Did you really intend trying to defend yourself against Valdon?”
    “Why not?” I asked, surprised by the sudden, out-of-context question.
    “A small, harmless-looking man like him ought to be a cinch to take.
    What has that got to do with our visit to my course computer?”
    “It has a lot to do with it,” he said, finally coming away from the wall to stand himself in front of me. “When I saw you calmly accepting the possibility of a fight with a man most men would try to appease, it came to me to wonder how well you can handle a sword.”
    “No, you don’t!” I said with an immediate headshake, holding one hand up toward him while the other turned into an automatic, unconscious fist. “As far as you’re concerned, I don’t even know what the word sword means. Your problems in Narella are none of my business, and I intend keeping it that way. If you’ll just show me the blinking red sign