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on a wafer, leaning his head back
against the tree trunk. He wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes
were on a pale blue winged thing that came fluttering across the
stream and began flying around in circles between them. When it got
too close to her, Narisa sidestepped it. Tarik put out one finger,
and the thing perched on it a moment, before flying off into the
bushes behind the tree.
    “What is that?” Narisa asked. “I’ve never
seen anything like it before.”
    “It’s a butterfly,” Tarik said, bemused.
“There are none on Belta, nor would you have seen any at the
Capital, or on any of the other developed planets. Lovely, isn’t
it? And remarkable, too. It begins life as an insignificant worm,
only later growing into the magnificent creature you just saw.”
    “A worm? I’m not sure that’s possible.”
Narisa sounded as confused as she felt. It wasn’t just the
butterfly, it was Tarik, too. He was not behaving like his usual
self, and certainly not like an officer of the Service.
    “If I explained it, you wouldn’t believe me.”
Tarik dismissed the butterfly with a shrug. “Let me hear your
report, Lieutenant.”
    Standing at attention, using the clipped,
brief phrases she had been taught were the correct form for
official reports, Narisa recited the events of the previous
day.
    “Have you finished?” Tarik asked when she
stopped. She had given him the fruit when she talked about it, and
he sat holding it, turning it over and over in his long
fingers.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “First, I want to thank you for saving my
life a second time. I have no doubt I’d be dead by now if you
hadn’t tended me so well. But do be careful, Lieutenant Narisa.
Save me a third time, and according to Demarian custom, you will
own me. Have you ever been to Demaria? No? It’s an interesting
place.
    “Next, will you please sit down? We have a
lot to discuss, and it hurts my neck to keep looking up at you.
Besides, it’s bad for discipline to have you looking down upon your
superior officer. Here, have some food. It tastes awful, but it’s
nourishing.” When Narisa did not move, he added, “Well, what else
have you to say? I thought your report was done.”
    “If you will forgive the impertinence, sir, I
must state that your appearance is slovenly. There is a very sharp
knife in the tool kit, surely you could use it to shave yourself.
Then you ought to fasten your jacket. Secondly, your attitude is
most unprofessional. There are Service regulations for situations
like this, when one finds oneself on an unknown world. But you sit
lolling against a tree, joking about discipline. You must recall
that our first duty is to find some way to communicate with the
Capital. Then we must—”
    “I liked you better with your jacket off,” he
said.
    Narisa stared at him, shocked.
    Suddenly, inexplicably, he began to laugh.
Before this day Narisa had never seen Tarik smile or heard him make
a joke, but there he sat, holding his sides and roaring with
laughter. The sound echoed around the clearing, while laughter
continued to pour out of him and tears ran down his cheeks. It was
a long time before he stopped and wiped his eyes.
    “Woman,” he said, still chuckling, “you
function like the memory banks of a spaceship. Everything is done
precisely, correctly, according to regulations, and no deviations
are permitted. Ever.”
    “Sir.” Narisa’s spine was stiff, her chin
high. She kept her expression blank, not letting her rising anger
show. She told herself she ought not to be angry with him. He had
been sick, and now he was clearly mad, and she would have to cope
with that problem as best she could.
    “Lieutenant,” Tarik said, his mirth
apparently under control, “sit down. Here, next to me. That is an
order. Now, take these two wafers and eat them. That is another
order.”
    He watched as she silently obeyed him.
    “In spite of your un -slovenly
appearance and highly professional attitude,” he went on, his lips
twisting