He dismissed it. It didn’t matter if the Earth people got the right impression for the wrong reason. What mattered was that morale was higher than it had been in a very long time and it boosted his own spirits to see the young people actually happy and excited for a change. It had almost begun to seem as if their trials had turned them into old people, that they’d lost youth along with everything else. They needed the hopes and dreams of the young to build again as much as they needed material things.

    Satisfied that the group needed no encouragement or supervision-he’d never seen them work with quite as much enthusiasm-he left the ‘conference’ center they’d built that was a replica of the one the Americans had erected for the treaty talks. Once the festival was over and the Americans returned to the temporary Embassy they’d constructed, the ‘conference’ center could be used to house the colonists arriving from Pluto until the real construction began.

    It was uncomfortable to walk outside-still. Even so close to the northern pole, the temperature was usually miserable at the peak of the day, the air quality and atmospheric pressure oppressive enough to make any sort of activity a test of endurance, but he crossed the landscape toward their base on foot anyway. Despite the discomfort, it was a pure joy to walk on solid ground, to look up into a sky instead of the deck above, to see a sun and clouds instead of artificial lights and peeling paint.

    It was time he chose a new lover, he decided, ignoring the familiar tightening in his chest at the thought as he spotted the first shuttle drop toward the ground like a great bird to circle the landing field they’d cleared and leveled. He had little enthusiasm for it, but he knew damned well that everyone had begun to wonder about his lack of interest in looking for a woman. Theirs was a small community. Gossip was about the only excitement they had to look forward to and it was inevitable that he would become a target given his position. It annoyed him. He disliked the lack of privacy as much as he disliked the almost proprietary attitude they all had toward him.

    Regardless, he thought it was probably as important that they see him in a stable relationship as any of the other things he did to promote the sense of normalcy they all needed. Like it or not, he knew they looked to him for guidance in every aspect of their lives and he couldn’t expect them to begin rebuilding their civilization if he wasn’t willing to lead by example.

    Myune seemed interested in spite of the insensitivity, poor judgment, and worse manners he’d shown when he’d made the comment about her state around the time the humans had first arrived-when he’d first met Sybil. He was going to have to make it clear to Myune, though, that he wasn’t ready to father another child. His grief for those he’d lost was still too fresh for him to want to open his heart to another and risk more pain. If she couldn’t accept that, then he would choose another. It really didn’t particularly matter to him at this point, not when he knew he couldn’t have the one woman he truly wanted.

    The thought prompted memories he’d fought hard to banish from his mind and he struggled to push Sybil from his mind as he did every time the memories assailed him. He’d closed that chapter of his life. He wouldn’t be reopening it.

    It was harder to dismiss her than it would’ve been if he hadn’t discovered just how wrong he’d been about her. Right up until he’d seen the surveillance vids, he’d told himself that it was all an act on her part, that she couldn’t be trusted any more than any of the other humans. The counterassault she’d mounted against that worm, Meachum, had laid those doubts to rest-even while it raised fresh ones. It was indisputable that she hadn’t wanted any part of his plans, but the threats Meachum had made might well change all that.

    If she showed, he would know. He hoped to hell she didn’t. He hoped she would stand her ground and not cave in to empty threats and give him more regrets, but he wasn’t counting on it. He’d had a crash course on just how little faith one could place in humans. Deception and faithlessness seemed to be a part of their nature.

    Maybe he needed for her to show, he thought wryly. If she didn’t, he would be left believing she truly had cared about him and that was eating him alive, would make it hellish taking a new lover purely for appearances-because that was all it would be.

    He knew his people had been convinced he’d only taken Sybil as his lover for political purposes and hadn’t questioned his liaison for that reason-because they thought they knew his motives. That was the root of the gossip, the growing suspicion that it hadn’t been politically motivated and the only way to nix the gossip and appease them would be to take a new lover.

    It infuriated him, but he had to live among them, had to have their respect to continue to lead them, and he had a duty to his people that he couldn’t simply discard at will. Otherwise, he would’ve called them all together and told them fuck off and mind their own gods damned business!

    The shuttle he’d been watching settled to the ground at last and he paused, struggling with the urge to change directions and head to the landing field to see what, or who, had arrived. It occurred to him that he had a good excuse. He’d threatened his troop with bodily harm if they let on just how delighted they were to get their hands on the supplies, but they were young and not especially adept at guarding their emotions.

    He dismissed the urge and the excuse when he saw the door begin to open. Turning, he strode quickly to the base entrance and went in, calling himself a coward and walking faster. His

    heart was beating so uncomfortably fast when he reached his quarters that he felt downright lightheaded-the effects of walking outside, he told himself. If she was with them, he could be sure he would be forewarned long before the festival. He would have time to brace himself. He was going to need it. * * * *

    Sybil was so jittery with nerves she couldn’t be still. Her hands shook until it was nearly impossible to apply any makeup to her face without looking clownish. She finally discarded the idea of creating a masterpiece of perfection and settled for a little color on her pale cheeks and a few dabs of mascara to define her eyes.

    She hadn’t expected the Sumpturians to throw a party in their honor the moment they arrived. She’d thought it might be a possibility shortly thereafter, and worried about it, but they’d been told about the festival as soon as they’d been shown to their living quarters. Already on edge and struggling with nerves, that announcement had only made things worse and, contrary to all expectations, she’d grown more jittery as the time approached rather than more calm.

    With the exception of the gala on the moon, she’d never agonized so much over what to wear in her life. It had instantly popped into her mind to wear the sinfully expensive dress she’d bought for the gala, and then immediately occurred to her that that wasn’t the best idea for a number of reasons. A lot of the people, including Anka, were bound to remember the dress, which would make it clear that she didn’t have an extensive wardrobe-not that she especially cared about the impression it would make on anybody else, but she knew Anka would be there and it mattered what he thought. There was also the likelihood that Anka would think she’d done it to remind him, that it was an attempt to entice him back, and she was not only hoping that wouldn’t happen, she didn’t want him to think that was why she’d worn it. Beyond that, the moment she struggled in to it, another reason not to wear it became clear. The clingy black fabric that had set off her figure so well that night set off her blossoming shape with equal emphasis.