absences with the staff?â
âJust told them Iâve been resting. Iâll account for your presence as a preliminary survey for FT & T. Right? As if any of those lamebrains could âsearchâ me,â she concluded contemptuously.
âSo true,â Afra, replied, indicating in his public mind his professional respect for her.
She was not deaf to the irony and was about to reply hotly, but went back to eating rather than give him further satisfaction.
It was unprecedented, this contact with sentient life from what was probably another galaxy, yet for all her capriciousness, Damia had not permitted a hint of panic or her own inner excitement to escape. In that she heeded one of the basic tenets of her position. Panic enough was fomented within the complex Federated Worlds in the normal course of power struggles, revolutions, ecological problems, and pioneer exigencies. By common consent, instantaneous communications between planets no longer meant instant hysteria of worlds unconcerned with the emergency. Federated World Government handled the reports of all local disputes which were, by law, reported to them by FT & T Primes. Interstellar political or natural disasters were not added to the emotional burdens already suffered by populations. Primes exercised the option to disperse or retain reports which might affect minorities within their jurisdiction, but digests of all communications were, by law, available on request.
Damia propped her chin in her hands and looked earnestly at Afra across the table. She sighed heavily.
âYou were right to call me to task for âtastingâ Larak and Jenna. But I did want to know what it would be like to be in love and then bring forth a baby.â
âAnd . . . ?â
âApart from the pain, I guess itâs rewarding enough.â
âYou donât sound too sure.â
Damia cocked her head and traced an involved pattern on the table with her index finger.
âIt must be different to do it yourself, no matter how deeply you scan.â
A trace thought behind her shield, called forth by her remark, sent through Afra a bolt of terror which he barely managed to contain. She was unconsciously censoring, and it had to do with the alien aura and with her own desire for the experience of motherhood. But trace thought it was, and he had only that one millisecond impression, tantalizing, terrorizing.
âWhy, Afra, why?â Damia continued, unaware of the reaction she had produced in him, her own mind absorbed in self-pity. She launched herself physically from the table in one lightning move, and stood at the window wall, her back as expressive of her frustration and bitterness as her mind. âWhy am I a loner? The Rowan found Jeff, but where, when will I find someone?â
âDamia, youâve met every psionic prospect Talent above Class 7 in the Nine-Star League.â
âThem,â she dismissed those candidates scornfully.
âYoung Nicos, the T-5 working with Jeran on Deneb, was mighty taken with you. Calm down a bitââ
âNicos!â Damiaâs eyes flashed blue fire. âThat post-adolescent mess! Why, itâd be five or six years before heâs even presentable.â
Afra was no stranger to such dismissals. Heâd heard many since the time Damia had begun to be interested in the opposite sex as a precocious adolescent. There had been times when he wished he had followed his own deep-hidden desire. But he had given a great deal of thought to the variables, and knew that he could only wait. He knew how hard it must be for Damia to watch others pairing off, achieving the enviable total accord that telepaths enjoyed, and for which she was so eager. Her very brilliance and beauty caused many otherwise willing mates to shy away. Usually, she would talk herself out of her mood, but tonight there was a new undercurrent that was dangerous in its intensity.
âIs that why you so