they didn't
speak was that their vocal chords were only in the early stages of
development. A few of them could manage a grunt, but they rarely used
it. Their language was pictures,"
"Like hieroglyphics:?"
"Not
precisely. They didn't use symbols or stick figures. They actually
created realistic drawings. Almost every one of them was gifted with
tremendous artistic ability. Any available surface was used to express
themselves—rocks, trees, cave walls—or they just scratched their
pictures into the dirt with pointed sticks. Of course, getting an idea
across sometimes took hours, but time had very little relevance to
them."
Shara could not imagine ever being that patient. "Tell
me, did you enjoy the silence as much as you expected to?"
Gabriel
laughed. "For the most part. Though I'll admit, after a few months I occasionally felt the
need to converse with my ship's computer."
"A few months! I'm
not the most sociable person, but I doubt I'd last that long without
any sort of dialogue."
Gabriel collapsed the cooker and stowed
it away. "I find that brief interludes of sociability are more than
adequate."
"Yet you seemed to enjoy teaching me about old
Norona and telling me about your journeys."
He
rubbed his chin. "I suppose I do. It must be because you're a good
listener." Again it struck him that his normal behavior had been
altered in her presence.
Gabriel was well into his third tale
when
the glow from the heater orb abruptly dimmed. Shara stared at it
fearfully and asked, "What's happening to it?"
Glancing up at
the
darkened sky, he could see the first stars had begun to appear. "It's
conserving the energy it stored all day. A small amount of energy can
be absorbed from the reflected light off the stars and moon, but not
enough to maintain all night the warm temperature it's been emitting so
far. Don't worry, though. The sleeping pouch will keep us quite
comfortable."
Shara's gaze darted from the orb, to the pouch
rolled
up in the comer, to Gabriel. He didn't look like he had any ulterior
motives in mind, but those angel eyes of his were impossible to read.
"I don't believe we should share your pouch again. I'll put on some
extra clothing and—"
"Don't be foolish. You may not freeze to
death
outside of the pouch, but you would be too cold to get a decent night's
sleep. We're both rational adults. If you don't wish to repeat what
happened before, we won't."
Gabriel couldn't understand why she would not want to repeat something
so pleasurable when it had not left his mind all day, but he would
abide by her decision regardless of how unreasonable it was.
Shara
held to her belief that she would be fine without his body heat, while
he summarized his last story, unrolled the pouch, removed his clothing,
and climbed inside. But as the temperature inside the tent gradually
grew chillier, she admitted that she was indeed being foolish. Hugging
her knees to her chest, she waited until she was certain he'd dozed off.
As
she attempted to discreetly make an opening for herself, he said,
"You'll be much more comfortable without your clothing."
Then
she remembered his comment about being a light sleeper. "No, I won't."
"Stubborn
woman. You're cold," he complained, but made room for her anyway.
She
tried to find a position where the least amount of their bodies would
be touching.
"Give
it up, Shara," he finally said in a tone that showed he was losing
patience with her. With little effort, he shifted them both onto their
sides with her in front of him. His arm, wrapped snugly around her
waist, held her against him. "Now go to sleep. We'll get up at first
light and start again."
She took a shaky breath and ordered
herself to relax.
This
was practical, not intimate. But if it wasn't intimate, why was she so
aware of how solid he felt against her back, or precisely how large his
hand was where it covered her ribs? Or how she could feel his body
changing because of
speak was that their vocal chords were only in the early stages of
development. A few of them could manage a grunt, but they rarely used
it. Their language was pictures,"
"Like hieroglyphics:?"
"Not
precisely. They didn't use symbols or stick figures. They actually
created realistic drawings. Almost every one of them was gifted with
tremendous artistic ability. Any available surface was used to express
themselves—rocks, trees, cave walls—or they just scratched their
pictures into the dirt with pointed sticks. Of course, getting an idea
across sometimes took hours, but time had very little relevance to
them."
Shara could not imagine ever being that patient. "Tell
me, did you enjoy the silence as much as you expected to?"
Gabriel
laughed. "For the most part. Though I'll admit, after a few months I occasionally felt the
need to converse with my ship's computer."
"A few months! I'm
not the most sociable person, but I doubt I'd last that long without
any sort of dialogue."
Gabriel collapsed the cooker and stowed
it away. "I find that brief interludes of sociability are more than
adequate."
"Yet you seemed to enjoy teaching me about old
Norona and telling me about your journeys."
He
rubbed his chin. "I suppose I do. It must be because you're a good
listener." Again it struck him that his normal behavior had been
altered in her presence.
Gabriel was well into his third tale
when
the glow from the heater orb abruptly dimmed. Shara stared at it
fearfully and asked, "What's happening to it?"
Glancing up at
the
darkened sky, he could see the first stars had begun to appear. "It's
conserving the energy it stored all day. A small amount of energy can
be absorbed from the reflected light off the stars and moon, but not
enough to maintain all night the warm temperature it's been emitting so
far. Don't worry, though. The sleeping pouch will keep us quite
comfortable."
Shara's gaze darted from the orb, to the pouch
rolled
up in the comer, to Gabriel. He didn't look like he had any ulterior
motives in mind, but those angel eyes of his were impossible to read.
"I don't believe we should share your pouch again. I'll put on some
extra clothing and—"
"Don't be foolish. You may not freeze to
death
outside of the pouch, but you would be too cold to get a decent night's
sleep. We're both rational adults. If you don't wish to repeat what
happened before, we won't."
Gabriel couldn't understand why she would not want to repeat something
so pleasurable when it had not left his mind all day, but he would
abide by her decision regardless of how unreasonable it was.
Shara
held to her belief that she would be fine without his body heat, while
he summarized his last story, unrolled the pouch, removed his clothing,
and climbed inside. But as the temperature inside the tent gradually
grew chillier, she admitted that she was indeed being foolish. Hugging
her knees to her chest, she waited until she was certain he'd dozed off.
As
she attempted to discreetly make an opening for herself, he said,
"You'll be much more comfortable without your clothing."
Then
she remembered his comment about being a light sleeper. "No, I won't."
"Stubborn
woman. You're cold," he complained, but made room for her anyway.
She
tried to find a position where the least amount of their bodies would
be touching.
"Give
it up, Shara," he finally said in a tone that showed he was losing
patience with her. With little effort, he shifted them both onto their
sides with her in front of him. His arm, wrapped snugly around her
waist, held her against him. "Now go to sleep. We'll get up at first
light and start again."
She took a shaky breath and ordered
herself to relax.
This
was practical, not intimate. But if it wasn't intimate, why was she so
aware of how solid he felt against her back, or precisely how large his
hand was where it covered her ribs? Or how she could feel his body
changing because of
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