Starliner(111)

A pair of stewards entered the lounge, noticed the two officers, and lowered their voices as they walked on through to the Carthage Salon beyond.

"What I'd like to do," Wanda resumed, looking across at Ran and smiling fixedly, "seeing that we'll be laid over on Tblisi for an extra forty-eight hours so the home office can decide how to modify our schedule . . . ."

She took a deep breath. "Is for us to rent one of the fishing cottages out at the head of Bluewater Bay. And spend the next while getting to know each other better."

Wanda forced her smile broader. The tip of her index finger was white from the force with which she pressed at the autobar. "Is that clear enough for you, Ran?" she said.

He spread his right hand flat on the table and pushed. "Didn't you hear what I said?" he demanded, "They deliberately crashed—"

"Listen to me!" Wanda said as she covered his hand with her own. "I was there when they were installing the autopilot in the commander's cabin, remember? When we watched the Brasil—you didn't have to tell me what was going on, Ran."

Ran shuddered. He wouldn't meet her eyes, but he turned his hand palm-up to clasp Wanda's. "And it doesn't matter?" he asked.

"It's done," she said. "Whether it was a good idea or a bad one . . . and yeah, I think it probably was a good idea, the same as the commander does and you do. I'm just glad that it wasn't me who had to—do what was done."

She clasped Ran's hand between both of hers. "Look at me, Ran," she whispered.

He obeyed, giving her a wan smile. "I dunno, Ms. Lieutenant Holly," he said. "I'm not sure I'm tough enough for this business."

Wanda laughed. "You're tough enough for anything you have to do," she said. "I'm paraphrasing somebody I trust on that. But our job is to get the Empress in on schedule, with happy passengers. Not to worry about—other people's jobs, that they've already done and we can't undo if we wanted to."

She cleared her throat "And because we've done our jobs to the satisfaction of our superiors, we've got some time for ourselves. Which I want to spend with you."

Ran lifted their knotted hands and kissed the woman's knuckles. "Wanda," he murmured, "look, it wouldn't . . ."

"Look at me, Ran," she insisted.

He met her eyes. "I've known my share of women—" he said.

"Yes, I've noticed that," Wanda said drily.

"—but they didn't mean anything, any more than I did to them. I—"

"Are you really that naive?" Wanda asked. "That they were just having a bit of fun, because you were?"

Ran shrugged angrily. "Look, that's my business. What's your business is that you—for pity's sake, Wanda, you're a friend of mine. And I don't fuck my friends."

"Then who does that leave, Ran?" she responded softly.

He straightened as though he'd been slapped. "Wanda," he said. "I don't want anybody to get hurt."

She shook her head. "You can't control that," she said. "You're hurting people now with what you do. And you're smart, so you know that, whether you admit it or not And you're right, it's none of my business, except—"

She squeezed fiercely at his hand. "Except that it doesn't have to be like that. You care about people or you wouldn't be so upset about what happened on, t-to Nevasa City. You can care about a person too, Ran."

He chuckled. "I wouldn't bet on that," he said.

"I am betting on it, Ran," she replied. She got to her feet and drew him with her. "Come on," she added. "It's an hour by ferry to Bluewater Bay, and that's longer than I want to wait."

Ran slipped his hand around her waist as they walked out of the lounge. "I'm not much of a hand for fishing," he said in a neutral voice.

Wanda laughed. "To be really honest," she said, "I wasn't planning to rent fishing tackle."

The stewards, completing the post-landing check of the Carthage Salon, could hear the officers' laughter carol all the way down the corridor to the Embarkation Hall.