Free gaian consortium 03 - the gaia gambit by Christine Pope Page A

him. Without blinking, he replied, “Looking for you.”
    “Well, you found me.” And I really wish you’d done so after I’d had that first swig of brandy…
    “So I have.” He moved a few paces closer and paused, looking around at the somewhat dubious surroundings, the sector’s dregs sitting at the far end of the bar or huddled in shadowy corners. “Perhaps I should be the one asking what you’re doing here.”
    “An overwhelming urge to get away from it all?” Her tone was brittle, but she refused to tell him the truth, that she had ended up in this miserable backwater because of him.
    She turned then, hoping he would take the dismissal for what it was. Of course he didn’t, but came even closer, until he was standing next to her at the bar. How could she have forgotten how tall he was, how almost physically overwhelming his presence could be?
    To cover her confusion, she reached for the glass of brandy.
    “I don’t advise drinking alone,” he said, and shifted so he addressed the barkeep, who’d been hovering at the other end of the counter and trying to act as if he weren’t listening to every word they were saying. No doubt Gared Tomas would have a complete account of their exchange before nightfall. “One for me as well.”
    She lifted her shoulders, knowing somehow it would be pointless to tell him to go away. Maybe another woman would have been flattered that he had tracked her down so far from his own sector. Right then she just felt tired, and uncertain whether she had the energy to give him the brush-off…and, even if she could muster the strength to send him packing, whether he would be accommodating enough to comply.
    What she did know was that they couldn’t have any kind of meaningful conversation here. The bartender was one of Tomas’s creatures, and, for all she knew, so was the young woman who wiped down the tables and served as a back-up barkeep when necessary. Asking Rast sen Drenthan to leave with her seemed like the sort of encouragement she really didn’t want to give him, but she didn’t have much choice.
    “No need for that,” she announced. “We should get going anyway.” And she lifted the brandy and took it neat and fast, the way she’d learned during too many rowdy shore-leave episodes from her academy days.
    Rast’s copper eyes widened a bit, but then he seemed to catch her sidelong glance toward the bartender, and he nodded. “That restaurant you were telling me about…”
    “The very one,” she agreed, relieved that he’d picked up on the hint. “I’ll show you the way.”
    She began to reach for her pocket to pull out some irrads , the local currency, to pay for her brandy, but Rast forestalled her by dropping a few copper coins on the counter. “Best get going. I’m very hungry.”
    Holding her tongue appeared to be the best response. In silence, she led him out of the bar and on down the street. A block away was a small courtyard that some previous inhabitant had planted with off-world flowers and ornamental shrubs, with a stone fountain in the center. It provided a quiet space to sit and think — or stand and talk, as the case might be. For some reason the Iradians mostly ignored the spot, intent on their own busy commerce, but Lira had found it to be a welcome refuge in a world she found more than a little hostile.
    Iradia’s orange-tinted shadows had begun to slant toward dusk. They had only an hour or so before night fell, and Gared Tomas would expect her back by then. She’d been given her liberty this afternoon, since he had no appointments until this evening, but she knew better than to be late.
    “All right,” she said, after they had entered the courtyard and found it to be empty, as she had hoped. “What in the galaxy are you doing here? And what makes you think I’d be remotely happy to see you?”
    That did seem to take him aback. He paused, staring down at her, the black brows forming a “V” shape as he frowned. The ridges above