hand rose smoothly to clasp hers, lightly, warmly, leaving her with the essential cool-green-comfortable-security that was the physical/mental double-touch of him.
Then, with a one-sided smile, he bowed to indicate he was flattered but allowed a recollection of her as a nude baby on a bath towel to cross his public mind.
She made a face at him, and substituted Larakâs son. Afra blandly put âherâ back on the towel beside her nephew.
âAll right,â she laughed, âIâll behave.â
âAbout time,â he said with an affable grin, and looked beyond her to their surroundings.
He had seen Auriga in othersâ mind-eyes but the amber sunlight was easier on his eyes than Earthâs bright yellow, so that Auriga was not a dark world to him, but a restful one. The sweet-scented breeze sweeping down from the high snowy mountain range was lightly moist and the atmosphere had a high oxygen content, exhilarating him.
âItâs a lovely world you have here, Damia.â
She smiled up at him, her blue eyes brilliant under the fringes of long black lashes.
âItâs a lovely young vigorous world. Come see where I live,â and she led the way from the landing stage to her dwelling.
The house perched on the high plateau above the noisy metropolis that was Aurigaâs major city, and Damiaâs Sector Headquarters. Its randomly sprawling newness had a vitality which the planned order of Earth lacked. Afra found the sight stimulating.
âIt is, isnât it?â Damia agreed, following his surface thought. Then she directed his mind to her dayâs discovery, giving the experience exactly as it had happened to her. âAnd the touch is unlike anything Iâve ever met.â
âYou certainly didnât expect it to be familiar, did you?â Afra asked in dry amusement.
âJust because they come from another galaxy doesnât mean they
canât
be humanoid,â she replied.
Afra snorted in disgust and went into her main living room.
âIâll fix your favorite protein,â she volunteered in one of her mercurial shifts.
âOh, donât go to any trouble for me.â
âNo trouble at all.â Mischievously, she allowed him to see her reaching for supplies from his home world light-years away.
âAlways the thoughtful hostess,â he said, graciously inclining his head. âHave you estimated the alienâs arrival?â
âIâll know better when Iâve had a chance to judge their relative speed,â she said. âA day or two would give me some idea.â
He watched her at the homey duties. Like most T-1s, she enjoyed manual work and performed the daily housekeeping herself, without relying on mechanical services most households considered necessities. In a few minutes she set before him a perfectly cooked attractively served meal which he greeted perfunctorily.
âCanât I ever impress you?â she asked, half wistful, half sharp.
âWhy should you want to?â he asked, affecting mild surprise. âI knew you from your first incoherent thought.â
âFamiliarity breeds contempt, huh?â
âContempt, no. Understanding, yes. Particularly at our levels. And, of course, confusion, wherever you are,â Afra replied. âVery good, just the way I like it,â he added appreciatively, indicating his dinner.
Damia made a face at him across the table, and with a deliberate disregard for T- manners, reached a portion of the sauce-steeped meat into her mouth without spilling a drop. When Afra continued to ignore her, she sighed and picked up her fork.
âShall I take over the regular workload, Damia, and leave you free for surveillance?â
âWe donât have a heavy traffic right now. Itâs between harvests in this system, and manufacturing is slow for the next few months. The usual amount of tourists, though.â
âHow have you covered your
Back in the Saddle (v5.0)