Sybil turned cold. “That’s a leap,” she said through stiff lips.

    Powell shrugged. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t rule out the possibility that he’s some sort of hero to them. It would be hard to say considering how little we know about them.”

    Sybil wished she’d been close enough to stomp his foot… and break it.

    Kushbu agreed with him. Holly Rains, thankfully, didn’t simply fall in with the others. “I don’t know much about the military, quite honestly. Aren’t they supposed to follow whatever orders their commander gives them?”

    “Unless they’re treasonous.”

    Holly gaped at him. “Well! I didn’t get that impression at all if you’re saying he’s some sort of… budding dictator! He’s a very kind and well mannered man, from what I could tell… uh… ril.”

    Sybil could’ve kissed the woman! “I agree with that. Under the circumstances, considering he could well have viewed us as a threat to Sumpturian security, he was extremely gracious.”

    Meachum didn’t seem the least bit happy at that assessment. The bastard! He should’ve been relieved. Instead, he wanted to think the worst! He shrugged after a moment. “Maybe too gracious? He could also be a master at manipulation. He would’ve known as soon as they’d examined the craft that it was a scientific expedition. There were no weapons on board.”

    “There were plenty of cameras, though,” Sybil pointed out dryly, “which could just as easily have led to the conclusion that we were there to spy.”

    “And maybe it did?” said the devil’s advocate. “His ‘gracious’ behavior might have been nothing more than a smoke screen to create that impression to get you to lower your guard.”

    Honestly! As if everybody in the world-universe-was as paranoid as the American government! “And maybe we shouldn’t judge them by ourselves?” she suggested tightly. “As you keep pointing out, they’re rils, not men. We don’t know how they think. It doesn’t seem to me that they’re in a position where they’d need to worry about how we feel about them.”

    “It doesn’t, does it?”

    Sybil wanted to demand to know what the hell he meant by that, but she didn’t need to.

    The government was beginning to wonder why the Sumpturian’s had been willing to form a treaty and they weren’t convinced it was graciousness on their part.

    Wasn’t it just like them to decide nobody would offer such a thing merely to have peace? That they must be worried, or fearful? It made her blood run cold just thinking what they might try if they thought the Sumpturians were vulnerable in any way.

* * * *

    If possible, Sybil had a worse headache that evening as she headed back to her quarters. Instead of popping more painkillers, she decided to try to take a catnap. Her mind was so active she thought at first she wouldn’t be able to, especially when she could smell the mingling of her scent and Anka’s on her linens. Eventually, though, the broken rest she’d had the night before caught up with her. She woke to discover she’d slept nearly two hours and the headache wasn’t gone. Maybe she just needed food? She hadn’t eaten much the night before or at lunch.

    The temptation to order another tray was strong. Reluctantly, she discarded the idea. The moment she’d thought of food the hope had instantly arisen that Anka might come back, but it was that very thing that drove her from her quarters to dine in the mess with everyone else. She shouldn’t be there if he did decide to come back!

    She had a bad feeling that Meachum suspected something and it wouldn’t be good for either of them to be caught together. Not that she was particularly worried about herself. The Sumpturian enclave was restricted to the conference center, though, even if they did have diplomatic immunity. Anka wasn’t supposed to be inside the military complex at all and there was no telling what sort of flap it would cause if he was found there.

    Despite her objective in using food as a curative, she found that it only succeeded in dulling the pain a little more. It was tension headache, she decided, not a hunger headache. When she left the mess hall, she headed to the gym for a workout, reminding herself that she was behind in her routine anyway. It took work, and a lot of it, to counteract the effects of micro gravity despite the efforts to create simulated gravity. Without the centrifugal force the rotators created and the workout they got from the magnetic fields, the moon base would’ve been completely impossible, but even with them anyone stationed for a long period had to work out regularly.

    Thankfully, the work out took care the tension. Feeling pleasantly tired, Sybil headed back to her quarters and a hot bath. She was sitting in the middle of her bed combing the tangles from her hair when a strange phenomena in the center of her quarters caught her attention. Her heart skipped several beats as the particles solidified, fear and joy instantly at war.

    “Anka!”

    He grinned at her expression. “My apologies. There are patrols in the corridor or I would’ve had better manners than to enter without permission.”

    Sybil sprang from her bed and rushed toward him, gripping his arms a little frantically. “This is bad! This is really bad! You shouldn’t be here!”

    He lifted his brows at her but gathered her into his arms, nuzzling her neck. “Does that mean I’m not welcome, my nodia?”

    Sybil clutched at him. “Of course it doesn’t! I mean…!”

    He chuckled. Leaning away, he stroked her cheek lightly. “Yes or no, nodia?”

    Sybil felt a thrill race through her at the reminder of that night, the first night he’d asked her that. She struggled with the warmth it produced, wrestled with her desire to have him stay and her concern for him. “This is a restricted area. You aren’t supposed to be here.”

    He studied her for a moment. “Then come back to my place with me.”

    The temptation was so overwhelming she wanted to jump on it. She bit her lip, thinking about it. “I’ll be considered AWOL if they try to summon me for any reason and I’m not here. And that could cause trouble, too, especially if they figure out I’m with you.”

    He studied her face. “You’re very worried about this?”

    Sybil sighed. “I’m worried about you.” She hesitated. “You’re here now, though. Stay a while.”

    Anka led her to the bed and drew her down with him. “Tell me what you’re so worried about,” he murmured once he’d arranged her against his length.

    Wariness flickered through her. “I told you. Don’t pretend you don’t know that this is a restricted area. I know you have them on your own base.”

    He shifted far enough away to study her face. “I wouldn’t insult your intelligence, nodia.” He released a harsh breath. “I shouldn’t have come.”

    Sybil wrestled with the thoughts that had been circling her mind ever since the conversation with Meachum earlier. She didn’t think they would’ve taken root and created uncertainty if she hadn’t already been struggling with doubts of her own, but she realized she simply didn’t want to face the possibility that Anka was trying to use her. “I wanted you to come, hoped you would. I know you’ll be leaving soon and…” She paused, swallowing with an effort against the emotions clogging her throat. “I just don’t want to create problems for you.”

    “That’s all of it?”

    “It’s enough.”

    “It isn’t enough to keep me away. Tell me it will cause problems for you. Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll go and I won’t come back.”

    Sybil looked into his eyes mournfully, feeling her own fill with tears. She knew what she should say if she truly cared about him. “I don’t want you here. I want you to go.”

    His gaze flickered over her face. “Liar,” he murmured. Surging toward her, he pushed her onto her back and covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply. The glide of his tongue over hers was sheer delight. His taste and scent invaded her like a strong intoxicant, making her dizzy, warm, and completely malleable.