It was hard work. The flower, even dead, did not willingly give up its prey. When Racer at last rolled free, Severance saw that his clothing had already been dissolved- in places and that there were bright red marks on the skin that showed through the holes. “Get up.”
Racer crouched at Severance’s feet, still weeping. “I said, get up.”
Racer shook his head, brushing his eyes against his sleeve. “You’ll kill me. I knew you would. I figured you’d rather do it than let that… that thing do it once I told you about Jeude. A pulser’s better than being eaten alive.”
“Why, Racer? Why couldn’t you just stay the hell out of my way? Why did you have to kill Jeude? Why did you try to take Cidra? You should have just come after me, Racer. You should never have gone after them.”
“This time I figured I had you too,” the kneeling man whimpered. His voice broke into a hoarse whisper. “I couldn’t stand it any more.”
“Couldn’t stand what?”
“The way you look through me as if I weren’t worth a single credit. I knew what you were thinking. I kept wondering when you’d decide to have a laugh and tell someone else what really happened that day in the sinkswamp. You knew what it was doing to me. Never knowing when you’d decide the game had gone on long enough. You were just biding your time, waiting for a really good moment to tell everyone how I’d left you to face that killweaver. And after you’d made your announcement I’d never have worked as a mail pilot again. No one would have trusted me. I couldn’t let you hold that weapon over me forever, Severance.”
“Why did you go after Jeude?” Severance realized that his hand was trembling. He ached to pull the trigger.
“It was supposed to be you,” Racer said bleakly, staring at the spongy ground. “It was supposed to be you in that ship. I didn’t know you’d stayed behind until afterward. All I wanted was the cargo. I wanted to make it look like you’d sold the cargo to a higher bidder. But the sandstorm came up so quickly. Jeude didn’t stop following the distress beacon. He just kept riding it.”
“Right into the storm and then into the ground. I should have left you in the flower, Racer.”
“You wouldn’t,” Racer said. “You couldn’t. That’s the thing about you, Severance. You’re soft in some ways. Too soft.” He climbed slowly to his feet, more assured now. “I don’t think you’re going to use the pulser, either. You’d have done it by now if you were capable of killing me in cold blood. You’ll take me back for a nice, neat legal trial, won’t you?”
“Sorry, Racer. I’ve got better things to do than see you get that kind of justice. Besides, a good trial costs credit.” Lowering the pulser, Severance walked around the man, heading back the way he had come.
“Severance!”
Severance ignored him. He didn’t trust himself to turn. It would be so easy to use the pulser. The memory of Jeude and the image of Cidra filled his head. The pulser grip was warm in his hand. Too easy. Racer didn’t deserve it that easy.
“Severance, you can’t leave me!”
There was a scrambling sound behind him. Severance heard it and knew instinctively that Racer wouldn’t risk tackling him, which left only one other explanation for the frantic, scuffling movements. Racer was going for the weapon he had dropped when the flower had caught him. Severance swung around and fired just as Racer, kneeling, raised the pulser he had found. He gave only one short, chopped-off cry. The familiar,horribly abrupt scream of one more Renaissance victim.
Severance lowered the pulser. Too easy. Jeude’s killer should have died more slowly. He had wanted Renaissance to execute the sentence in its own inevitable, fearsome manner. The fact that neither Jeude nor Cidra would have wanted that kind of end for Racer was immaterial. They had nothing to say about it. Severance was the judge, the jury, and the executioner.
The rain broke out in a torrent. Severance holstered the pulser and raced for the skimmer. Water would be filling the engine housing already. Racer had left the panel open when he had been surprised. Renaissance was so good at destroying equipment.
The rain caught Cidra by surprise. She had watched the clouds build up all afternoon, but the sudden, drenching downpour had begun without any warning drops. The skies of Renaissance simply opened. She dashed for the tent and was thankful to find it dry inside. Huddled on a sleeper, she went back to doing what she had been doing since Severance had left: she waited and thought.
A great deal went through her mind as she sat in a position of meditation. Thoughts of Clementia’s tranquil gardens, memories of the games of Free Market she had played with Severance, and a desperate curiosity to know what was happening between Severance and Racer all crowded her head. The one thing she didn’t allow herself to think about was the amount of time left on the deflector screens. She had checked the controls before escaping into the tent, and she knew the charge was already beginning to weaken.
The rain was a steady roar on the curved shell of the tent. At least the drumming was a change from listening to the screams, clickings and occasional thrashing noises that were a part of normal jungle life. Cidra tried meditating and found it impossible to concentrate. She consoled herself with the thought that even a true Harmonic would have had trouble meditating under such circumstances.
That thought only led her to the next, inevitable bit of logic. She was farther than ever now from being a true Harmonic. Everything from her interest in gambling to her growing hunger for Severance’s brief, possessive kisses was ample evidence that she had too much Wolf in her. She had to face the possibility that even if she found the relic for which she searched, she might never be entirely free of her Wolf heritage.
And if Severance did not succeed in finding Racer, neither of them would be free of this damned jungle. Surprisingly she wasn’t as worried about that as she ought to have been. She discovered that she had a great deal of faith in Teague Severance’s abilities. She also knew that when he found Racer and secured the skimmer, he would be back for her. She knew it with the same certainty as she knew the deflectors were going to fail by nightfall.
Cidra was not at all so sure of what would happen to Racer when Severance found him. Or perhaps she simply didn’t want to think about it. What would it do to Severance if he killed a man? Perhaps he had killed in the past. She had no way of knowing. She had seen so much violence already during her short visit to Renaissance. The planet seemed to inspire it. Only a true Wolf could survive here. Cidra didn’t want to imagine what would happen if a group of Harmonics was abandoned on Renaissance.