Leaning through the opening of the ship, Cidra caught a glimpse of a huge skeleton mouth through the murky case cover. She shuddered. “Look at those teeth.”

Severance grinned briefly. “Definitely a carnivore.”

Cidra glanced at his own rather feral smile. “His teeth remind me of yours. Damn it, Severance, if you don’t come out of there, so help me, I’ll—” A flash of black light at the end of the case interrupted her words. Once more energy sizzled, although it seemed weaker this time. “The light! Severance, that’s what happened before!”

Severance felt the same tingling shock he had experienced earlier. Energy clawed him, not as strong this time, but enough to force him to his knees. With both hands he gripped the pulser and aimed for the source of the eerie light. He squeezed off one shot and then another before a small explosion rocked the shattered ship. He heard Cidra call his name, and then everything went still.

Slowly he got back to his feet, watching as the light flickered and died at the end of the long case. “Cidra?”

“I’m all right, Severance. So are you. What happened?”

He examined the charred metal fixture that had produced the crackling energy and the light. “Whatever it is, it’s useless now. Tough to keep machinery working on Renaissance.”

Chapter Seventeen

The hike through the jungle to the river’s edge was without further incident. Cidra was exceedingly grateful. When the campsite came into view, looking very much as it had when they left, she smiled with relief and headed for the tent.

“I can’t wait to change these clothes. This habit Wolves have of wearing one set of clothes all day long is bad enough, but to be stuck in the same set for three days is very annoying.” She plucked at the fastening of the oversize shirt as she walked through the silent deflector screens.

“Wait a minute, Cidra. Let me make sure nothing has decided to take up residence in the tent. The deflectors have been off for at least a full day.” Severance caught her arm.

She stopped short. “Yes, of course. Details.”

“Paying attention to details is supposed to be one way of staying alive on this planet.” He stepped around her and cautiously opened the tent, pulser in hand.

“If you ask me, sheer luck has a fair amount to do with staying alive around here.”

Satisfied with the tent search, Severance turned to give Cidra a laconic glance. “I didn’t know you believed in luck.”

“I’ve learned a lot lately.” She sauntered past him as he waved her into the tent. “What I’d really like is another bath.”

“I don’t know how you survived without your usual two hours a day in a lav.”

 ‘A clean body aids in the development of a harmoniously tuned mind,’” she quoted from inside the tent.

“One of your Klinian Laws?”

“A minor but important one.” She stuck her head outside the tent and smiled winningly. “Feel like fetching some water for me?”

His mouth kicked up at the corner as he took in the blatantly coaxing expression. “You’re not the only one who could use a bath. I smell like the inside of that egg-laying spaceship. I’ll rig up something.”

“You always manage to rig up something.” She ducked back inside the tent.

There were more important things to worry about first, however. Severance stepped into the skimmer and critically scanned the instruments and the in nards of the powerhouse. There was still sufficient power to recharge the deflectors. He snapped the power pack out of the pulser, replaced it, and then got the deflectors operating at full strength. When he was satisfied with the security of the campsite, he put in the call to Port Try Again. The comm set worked after a bit of relatively minor tinkering.

“Where in a renegade’s hell have you been, Severance? I’ve had ExcellEx reps yelling at me for two days. Seems they’re expecting some sensors. Where’s Overcash?” The security official sounded short-tempered and inclined to be abusive.

“Overcash became a meal. So did Racer.” “Racer? He was on a run upriver to the Masterson field camp. How did you connect with him?”

“It’s a long story. I’m requesting a skimmer and pilot to pick us up.”

“Who’s us? Oh, you’ve still got the little Harmonic with you? If Overcash and Racer wound up feeding the local wildlife, how did she make it?”

“She’s tougher than she looks. How about the skimmer?”

“Give me your coordinates. I’ll get someone out to you as soon as possible. Can you make it through another night?”

 “Yeah, the deflectors are working, and we’ve got a pulser.”

 “I’ll have a skimmer out to you by midday tomorrow.”

 “Thanks,” Severance said, and waited for the inevitable final question. Nothing came for free on Renaissance. Or anywhere else in the Stanza Nine system for that matter.

“Who’s picking up the tab for the rescue run? ExcellEx?”

 “No. Charge it to my account,” Severance said. There was a short wait while his account was pulled up from the computer. “Good enough,” the security officer said. “Your credit is still first-class. Looks like you always pay your bills.”

“Always,” Severance murmured, and switched off the comm set. He sat for a moment in the gently rocking skimmer and idly watched a pair of dracon eyes that were watching him.

Nothing came for free. There was a price on everything. How much of a price had he forced Cidra to pay in order to survive? He’d had no right to subject her to the events of the past few days. He should have taken better care of her. His job was to protect her.

Instead she had taken care of him. He remembered the comfort she had given him when he had been swimming in and out of his fever. In addition to the hazy nightmares he saw fleeting images of her gentle touch, the cooling baths, and the soft warmth of her lap as she cradled his head. She had come aboard Severance Pay as a delicate, cultivated creature accustomed to the finest manners and the most elevated of lifestyles. This morning he had awakened to find a young huntress rising from the edge of a stream to bring in the day’s meat. Because of him she had been forced to become a carnivore. That seemed unpleasantly symbolic to Severance.

She had learned other things from him too. He’d had no right to teach her about passion. But even as he berated himself, Severance knew deep in his gut that, given the chance, he would have repeated the lesson. The woman pulled too strongly at his senses and his mind. The two weeks on board Severance Pay alone with her had been sweet hell at times. He had known then that if she stayed with him on the run to QED, she would end up in his bunk. As long as he was anywhere near her, he would have no peace unless he knew he could possess her. He could not allow her a choice. She affected him too fiercely, made him ache with need, filled him with the desire to put a claim on her. At the same time he was aware of a violent desire to protect her. The possessiveness and the protectiveness went hand in hand, seeming natural and inevitable until the twin goals foundered on the ultimate dilemma. How could he protect her from himself?