Sue would say there was no need to kick-start an angst generator—the important thing was to enjoy the moment. But Gidds made Laura want to think about her future, and his place in it—and she knew there was a tediously simple reason why she kept reacting with an instinct to back away.
She’d opened her life once, to someone she’d thought was exactly the right person for her. She’d been mistaken. On paper, Gidds was a far worse match, and perhaps it was foolish to get close to someone so utterly different from what she thought she wanted. But she’d do the man the courtesy of giving him time to prove her wrong.
She owed herself that much.
Gidds, with only occasional distracted pauses, was able to keep his job at bay during a relaxed morning in bed, and then made up for a need to respond to several messages by preparing breakfast while he did so.
While he worked, Laura went out to the south patio and sat on the wide double rim surrounding the pool, appreciating autumn, and the fact that safety fencing in technological futures involved force fields that activated only at the approach of unaccompanied children. This allowed her to enjoy Maze’s gift without obstruction. The trees had survived without notable transplant shock, and their reflections in the water were entirely beautiful, inviting daydreams. Laura drowsed.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Oh, the game I was playing yesterday," Laura said, interestedly inspecting the tray Gidds carried. "What are these called?"
"Toshen." He set the tray down between them. "A favourite of my daughters."
It resembled fried cornbread flecked with herbs and vegetables. Laura sampled a corner, and found it crumbly and delicious, with a zing of the radish-like Taren vegetable called vut.
"Your daughters are at Pandora Shore now?"
"Yes. They wish to continue on as Kalrani, but now that the Setari program has returned to a voluntary and less intense curriculum, I will be able to see more of them."
"More? But…if you were in charge of Setari training, wouldn’t you have seen them often?"
He shook his head, gaze focused on ripples on the pool. "No. It would have been unfair to allow myself more access than the families of other Setari in training. I had them for Sights sessions, which gave me more time than most parents of Kalrani. Otherwise, the holiday breaks, the same as everyone else. It will be very different now—I will have them every long rest."
Long rest was the weekend of their eight day week: two days, the same as Earth, although Muina also had short rest which was a half-day in the middle of the working week.
"Presuming you’re ever given rest days of your own."
"That is a difficulty," he agreed. "But I expect it to be manageable—and to allow me to see more of you. I’ve added you to my schedule group, so you will be able to see how my time is blocked out."
"I’ve added you to the house permissions," Laura said, with a faint laugh. "Perhaps we can try dinner again when you get back." She hesitated, then continued: "Or a rolling series of nightcaps. Whichever works."
He reached across the tray and brushed the fingers of his partially gloved hand over the back of hers. Not, she thought, to check how she was feeling, but simply to show pleasure.
"Tell me about the game you were playing," he said then.
Laura resisted the temptation to ask why, and described Red Exchange.
"I haven’t progressed very far," she said. "I’m supposed to be finding out what the spirit—the teszen—I’m trying to make my first contract with most desires, but have spent most of my time wandering about looking at things. A very pretty world."
"You enjoy the exploration?"
"Yes, although the plot and collection aspects seem interesting as well, and I generally enjoy puzzles. It’s like a combination…" Laura stopped, because Pokémon, Final Fantasy and Myst were all going to be meaningless for him. "Like a combination of a few Earth games I liked, but with all the amazing aspects of a virtual interface environment as well."
"I would enjoy playing that with you."
Laura didn’t quite hide a moment’s surprise.
"Free time would still be a difficulty, of course," he said. "But it is something we could share when I am in a remote location. And, if it is suitable for Sights, perhaps Allidi and Haelin will appreciate it."
"Well, schedule a time," Laura said, not sure whether he was doing exactly what she’d feared, but acknowledging that he had never said he didn’t enjoy games. "Starting island Zylat. My character name is Angharad."
He tilted his head. "Does the name have a meaning for you?"
Laura wondered whether the ghostly ferns that surrounded her had unfurled into new patterns, or if he was just guessing. "It’s the name of a favourite character in a favourite book."
He asked her to describe the book, so Laura talked him through the plot of The Blue Sword, and they ended up in a side discussion of whether the ability that triggered the plot had any resemblance to Sight Sight, and the difference between magic, powers, and talents.
The man, she reflected after he had departed, would discuss almost anything with the same focused attention. Collecting information about Earth, satisfying his Sight Sight need to know, and…learning Laura Devlin.
Restlessly, she did some minor tidying, reviewed Julian’s school progress, and promised herself that she’d do some more of her own lessons, since he’d passed her again. Then she broke out nearly the last of her hoarded share of the coffee supplies and made two mugs.
These she carried out of the house, down the path, and around the side of Sue’s house, to where a rounded room looked west to complement Laura’s eastern view. Since Sue and Laura had freely given each other a full set of security permissions, there was no problem triggering the external door—and then changing the glass polarisation so that the light could get in.
Sue lay sprawled with her usual abandon, as if unconsciously trying to take up the maximum surface area of the bed. The Pikachu onesie was a new development, however, and made Laura smile as she set the mugs on a bedside table. Then she fit herself Tetris-like into one of the gaps left by her sister, and waited.
It didn’t take long. The smell of coffee had long ago carved a direct route into Sue’s synaptic depths, and very soon there was a groan, and an elbow in Laura’s shin.
"I don’t know how I’m going to get you up once I’ve run out of your chemical alarm clock."
Sue groaned again, and rolled onto her side. "They promised me they’d prioritise growing the seeds you brought."
"Unless the techs have some sort of time-accelerator, that’s still going to be three or so years."
"Urgh. Well, they’ve found all sorts of Earth plants here—if Cass is right about this place being an actual idealised copy of Earth, then there’s got to be coffee plants somewhere. Ooh, and Bet will definitely have a care package next time the portal to Earth opens. Coffee and Tim Tams and copies of all the stuff we’ve missed. So, did you break out my lifeblood to celebrate something, or is this just more wibbling about whether the hottie is a good idea?"
"Wibbling. Or…not wibbling. I keep thinking over the reason why Mike and I divorced."
Sue sat up, Pikachu hood sagging over her eyes as she frowned at Laura. "Somehow I can’t see Serious Soldier screwing around with snazzily-dressed lawyers. What haven’t you been telling me?"
Laura sighed. Things that hurt her were things she didn’t talk about, even with Sue. But she needed her sister’s common sense.