Though the night was made for loving,

his neck was strong and the pulse beat in his throat. She wanted to put her finger tip on it and almost did before retracting her hand. He was more truly hers when asleep, untouched by stress, relaxed, his rib cage barely moving. She loved the line of his chest, the smooth skin clothing smooth pectoral muscle, and once again she had to repress the wish to run her hand down the shape of him, to feel the fine crisp hair on his chest. He was not hirsute and she found that much to her preference as well, his legs and arms having only a fine dusting of blond hairs. She had seen handsomer men but the composition of his face pleased her better. Lanzecki now that was the first time shed thought of him in days actually was the more distinguished in looks, heavier in build. She decided she preferred the way Lars Dahl was put together. She sighed. It was easier to be philosophical about Lanzecki. Would she have been as easily resigned to that loss if she hadnt met Lars Dahl? She had broken off with Lanzecki for his own good, but she hadnt lost him, for she would return to Ballybran. Once shed left Optheria For a moment her emotions hovered above a new abyss of despair and regret. And for the first time in her life, the thought of bearing a mans child crossed her mind. That was as much an impossibility as remaining with Lars, but it emphasized the depth of her emotional involvement with the man. Perhaps it was just as well that no child was possible, that their liaison would end when this assignment was over. She surprised herself! Children were something other people had. To feel that desire was remarkable. Optheria, for all its conservatism and alleged security, had unexpected facets of danger. Not the least of which were her adventures so far. She could hardly fault Trag, or rail at the Encyclopedia Galactica. Facts she had had. What couldnt have been foreseen were the astonishing predicaments which had entangled her. And the fascinating personalities. More extraordinary still, she remembered all too vividly, and with just a trace of chagrin, her rantings and ravings and desperations when shed left Ballybran, a sacrifice to the Guild for Lanzeckis good. Now, when contemplating a much deeper and irreversible loss, why was she so calm, fatalistically resigned, even philosophical. How very strange! Had her loss of Lanzecki inured her to others? Or was she mistaking her feelings for Lars Dahl? No! Shed remember Lars Dahl for the rest of her life without benefit of data retrieval. The second chimes rang faintly across digital cameras using microsd storage the open court outside the windows. Faint but sufficient to waken Lars. He was as neat on wakening as he was in sleep. His eyes opened, his right hand searched for her body, his head turned and his smile began as he located her. Then he stretched, arms above his head, back arching toward her as he extended his legs and then on the top of his extension, suddenly retracted himself, drawing her against him, to complete a morning ritual which included the exercise of their intimate relationship. Each time, they seemed to discover something new about themselves and their responses. She particularly liked Larss capacity for invention, stimulating as it did heretofore unsuspected originalities in herself. As usual hunger roused them from these variations. Breakfast here is the heartiest meal, Lars said cheerfully, striding quickly for the catering unit. Youll like it. Killashandra saw that he had left the jammer behind him, and she followed him at a quick trot, holding the device up to distort anything else he might say. He laughed. Wed best leave them something to hear. A discussion of breakfast must be sufficiently innocuous. Killashandra settled in one of the chairs near the catering unit, swiveling her hand as she looked at the little jammer. If only some way could be found to mask that mineral residue in Optherians! Blank out the detector. You know, Killashandra said as they ate, sitting companionably together on the elegant seating unit, I simply cannot understand this concentration on one instrument albeit a powerful one but theyre wiping out more than ninety-nine percent of the FSPs musical traditions and repertoire, as well as stultifying talents and potential. I mean, your tenor is formidable! Lars shrugged, giving her a tolerant side glance. Everyone sings at least in the islands, they do. But you know how to sing. Lars cocked an eyebrow at her, still humoring what he felt was her excessive fascination with a minor ability. Everyone knows how to sing I dont mean just opening the mouth and shouting, Lars Dahl. I mean, projecting a voice, supporting it properly on the breath, phrasing the music, carrying the dynamic line forward. When did I do all