Page 37 of Alien Burn

Sereya kept walking. Behind her, the aide began to speak, then stopped.

“Thank you,” Dhomhes said. “I have someone waiting.”

“Surely they can spare you a moment.”

“They've been waiting longer than a moment.”

His footsteps continued toward the other door.

At the counter, Sereya set down her cup too hard. The attendant reached for the pot.

“More?”

“Please.”

She did not need more tea. She needed a reason to remain here until Roemary stopped watching the door.

Dhomhes hadn't sat. He hadn't even slowed enough to make it look as though he might.

Perhaps he had seen exactly what they were doing. Or perhaps he had meant what he said and someone was waiting. Sereya found she wanted the second explanation to be true. A male allowed to be busy. A refusal that meant only that he could not stop for breakfast.

Roemary would never accept it.

When Sereya returned, the empty chair had been pushed back beneath the table.

“You went too early,” Roemary said.

Sereya sat down.

“You said when he was near.”

“I said he should notice.”

There was still fruit on Sereya's plate. She picked up the last piece and ate it.

Roemary watched, displeased, but did not correct her in front of the attendant who had come to collect the dishes.

For once, having her mouth full was useful.

The medical room was two passages beyond the service stair. Sereya had the dressing on her hand changed, let the medic examine the scrape on her jaw, and asked about the woman she had helped outside the hall.

Resting. No further treatment expected after the afternoon check.

Sereya thanked him.

She had been carrying that question since she woke. With it answered, the walk back seemed less urgent. She could stop at the courtyard for a few minutes. Roemary was occupied with the communications service and had told her not to interrupt.

At the next junction, Sereya took the passage she thought led toward the fountain.

It ended at a row of closed offices.

She turned around.

“You're going the long way.”

The young male from that morning stood behind her with a piece of fruit in his hand. The practice weapon was still slung over his shoulder. His hair was damp at the temples, and there was a dusty mark down the side of his tunic.

“I appear to be going the wrong way.”