THE PARADISE SNARE(42)

“You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine,” she said, still trembling, and tried to get up. Han was quick to catch her and offer a steadying hand.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her breath still ragged. “I’ll be fine, now.”

“I’ll walk you back to the dorm,” he said. “Just in case. You look kinda shaky.”

She didn’t argue as he took her arm, and they started back along the path.

It was growing quite dark by now, and Ylesia had no moon. Han could barely make out the path ahead, but 921 produced her goggles from the pocket of her robe and put them on. She led the way, but he kept hold of her arm to steady her.

“So, do you ever miss Corellia?” he asked.

“No,” she said, but he could tell it was a lie. “Do you?”

“I don’t miss the people, but I miss the planet,” Han said honestly.

“Corellia’s a nice place. I always wanted to go to the ocean, but I never got the chance. Ever been to the ocean?”

“Yes …” she said slowly, as if his question brought back memories she’d rather not think about.

“You got a family there?”

“Yes …” she hesitated, then added, “at least, I think so. I haven’t talked with them in almost a year.”

“Is that how long you’ve been here?” Han asked.

“Yes.”

They picked their way through the hot, wet darkness in silence. Han was very conscious of holding her arm beneath the wide sleeve of her robe. Her bones were too close to the skin, but her flesh itself was warm and soft and very female.

“So, you planning to stay here for good?” Han asked as a small clot of shambling pilgrims passed them in the darkness. “Or is this just kind of temporary?”

“Temporary?” He could barely see the light blur of her face, with the dark line of the goggles running across it, as she turned toward him.

“How could it be temporary? I want to serve the One, be part of the All, forever.” “Oh,” Han said. “Well, uh … what about stuff like … falling in love, traveling, maybe settling down someday and having kids?”

“We give up those kinds of attachments when we become part of the All,” she said, but there was a hint of regret in her voice.

“Too bad,” he said.

Without warning, it began to rain steadily. Han could feel 921 shiver slightly, despite the warmth. He pulled a rain poncho out of his pocket and spread it over both their heads. They walked along, huddled beneath it, bodies touching. Han was conscious of Muuurgh following at a discreet distance. Poor guy. He hates to get wet…

The pilot raised his voice to be heard above the spatter of the rain.

“You know, I can’t just go on calling you 921. If we’re gonna be friends, you’ve gotta tell me your name.”

“Who says we’re going to be friends?” she asked.

“I just know it,” Han told her. He grinned, knowing she could see him in the darkness. “I’m irresistible when I put my mind to it.”

“You’re conceited, that’s what you are,” she said, sounding halfvexed, half-amused. “Conceited, cocky, arrogant … insufferable …” she broke off, chuckling. Han realized it was the first time he’d heard her laugh.

“Oh, go on, please!” the pilot mock-protested, laughing himself. “I love it when women compliment me. Music to my ears.” He was delighted to hear her sounding so alive.

“I’m tired,” she said, her momentary good humor vanishing like morning mist. “And here we are at the dorm. Thanks for walking me back ˇ . .

Pilot Draygo.”

There was a faint circle of light emanating from the windows in the dormitory, and Han stopped them right on the edge of it, so he could see her, but they wouldn’t be fully illuminated to any onlooker.

“Not ‘Pilot,’” he reminded her. “It’s Vykk.”

She tried to step back, away from him, but Han tightened his grip on her arm, careful to be gentle, but not letting her pull away. “Vykk, okay?”

“Vykk … right,” she said. “Now, please … let me go. And .

. .

don’t come back. Please.”

“Why not?” Han was hurt.

“Because … you’re not good for me. For my spiritual essence.” He smiled in the hot darkness. “Admit it. You like me.” “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. Admit it.” He stepped closer to her, looking down into her face. She was tall, only half a head shorter than he was. Gently Han reached up to push the concealing goggles up, off her eyes. His fingers lingered on her cheek as he did it. “There,” he said softly, “that’s better. It’s wrong … totally wrong … to cover this face, these eyes …”