Although Jimjoy wore the unmarked greens of the Institute and could have been taken for an Ecolitan at first glance, even with the black hair and blue eyes, his lightly tanned complexion had not seen the outdoors to the extent required of Institute faculty and students alike. And the raw and unconcealed intensity in his eyes was not that of the Institute.
The Ecolitan greens had represented a compromise for Jimjoy. He had not brought a uniform, nor did he intend to wear one, or admit publicly that he was an Imperial officer. At the same time, civilian clothes would have been even more out of place.
While the greens had scarcely been a major consideration, they were now critical to his plan. If his calculations were right, the one Ecolitan named Andruz would finally be coming along the walkway before long. If she didn’t eat at home or skip lunch like she had for two out of the last four days. Or bring her friend Meryl along again. Or lunch with the entire field training staff…
He continued his glances down the ramp until he caught sight of the distinctive silver hair.
At that, he turned away from the old-fashioned bulletin board and started toward the dining area. According to the literature, few people ever considered someone in front of them to be following them, although that was exactly what Jimjoy had in mind. He let the gap between them narrow.
As he entered the dining area, he took the left line, the one always used by the Institute staff, and slowly moved through, listening to see if Thelina, who was alone today, unlike the last time, had any comments. She said nothing.
“What will it be, Major?”
He could have cared less today, but he grinned in spite of himself. The staff behind the counters still seemed to delight in announcing him and his rank.
“What do you have?”
“No meat. Just fish—grubber, parfish, or lingholm.”
“Parfish.” He’d seen it before, and the Ecolitans seemed to enjoy it.
“The lingholm’s better.”
“Then I’ll take the lingholm.”
The student serving as cook’s helper grinned broadly back at him.
That was another thing he didn’t understand. Virtually the entire Institute took his presence with an amused seriousness, yet denied to outsiders that he even existed. He had heard two beginning students tell, with tears of laughter running down their cheeks, how they had played dense colonials to a Fuardian faxer tracking down a rumor that Imperial officers were being trained by the Institute.
Chalk up another angle for the ubiquitous Commander Allen, getting yet another stooge to do the work. But he was glad the Institute ignored the potential danger and could still laugh.
Jimjoy did not look back. If his scheme were to have a chance, Thelina had to be convinced that he had not seen her.
At the end of the food line, he paused by the salads, as if trying to decide upon fruit or greenery. Finally, after the man behind him had slipped by, he picked a small fruit plate and straightened, blocking Thelina without seeing her.
He turned and carried his tray toward the dining area, slowly scanning the tables as if searching for someone, but carefully avoiding anyone’s glance while straddling the aisle. He could feel Thelina moving closer. He stopped momentarily, then leaned forward, as if to head for a table, then stopped again, leaning back.
Her tray jabbed him in the back, and something hot sloshed onto him.
He turned, hoping his calculations had been correct.
“Oh…” he said, letting his mouth drop open as he looked at the silver-haired Ecolitan. Then he grinned ruefully. “Still throwing things at us poor Imperials? Were you trying to alert me this time?” His voice was gentle and good-humored.
Thelina Andruz sighed. “It would be you, wouldn’t it? I should have guessed.”
“Guessed?”
“Who else but you or a visiting dignitary would be ambling around?” She glanced over her shoulder. “We’re crowding the aisle. Take that table over there. Your company won’t hurt, as long as I can eat quickly.”
Jimjoy said nothing, but eased over to the two-person table toward which she had inclined her head.
He took an extra napkin from another table as he passed, and, after setting his tray down, awkwardly tried to mop up the liquid that had splattered across his lower back.
“Scampig broth,” explained Thelina as she slid into her chair. “It shouldn’t stain anything, and…”
Jimjoy nodded. “And I probably deserved it for stalling around, right?”
“Probably,” observed Thelina, before taking her first bite out of a thin sandwich.
“Since it’s taken me more than a week to engineer this,” Jimjoy commented softly as he seated himself, “I hope you’ll stay long enough to listen.”
“Engineer what?”
“Your running into me.”
“You…unwhoooo…” For a moment, Jimjoy wondered if she were choking or laughing or swallowing, or all three.
The Ecolitan coughed again and cleared her throat, before swallowing and taking a sip of her iced liftea. “For what reason? You certainly could have just walked over to see me. I’m hardly inaccessible.”
“That’s assuming I wanted the entire world to know I was looking for you.”
“That, in turn, means you are up to no good whatsoever, Major Wright.” Her voice had turned distinctly cooler.
“Half right,” answered Jimjoy, before taking a bite of his salad. He said nothing else and bit into a bright green fruit, trying not to let the large piece pucker his mouth too much.
“First time I’ve ever seen anyone try to eat an entire sourpear at once.”
“Could be the last,” mumbled Jimjoy as he reached for his own iced liftea.
“Your half-right proposal, Major?”
He refrained from glancing around the crowded dining area, hoping that the overall noise level and the apparently spontaneous meeting were enough to allow him a quick comment. “I would like your help in leaving Accord and getting to somewhere like Sligo or even Alphane without the Empire being alerted to my departure.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not likely to arrive, otherwise.”
“You believe that of the glorious and saintly Empire which you serve?”
“Flamed right.” His voice was low.
Thelina did not respond, but cocked her head slightly and took a spoonful of the scampig broth, that which remained. Then she pursed her lips, but still said nothing.
Jimjoy watched the green eyes, noted that the silver hair was twisted up short behind her head in some sort of bun.
“That’s right, Major. Worn up or short now that I’m back here in a physically active billet.” She took another spoonful of the broth.
Jimjoy repressed a sigh and tried another fruit, a reddish one with a pink interior. Unlike the sourpear, the red fruit was sweet, with only a hint of tartness. He wondered if the tartness were part of the Accord character and fostered by its foods. He continued to eat methodically, occasionally studying the silver-haired woman, but refusing to bring up the subject again until she acknowledged interest or rejected the idea.
“Greetings, Major.”
Jimjoy kept from jumping, barely. Instead, he glanced up at the thin-faced professor with mild interest. “Greetings, Temmilan. How is the philosophical history business?”
“About as practical as ever…or, as you suggested, as impractical as ever.” The historian transferred her study to the Ecolitan across from Jimjoy. “You’re in the field unit, and we met last year, but I’m not good with names. Temmilan Danaan.”
Thelina nodded. “Thelina Andruz. Field Two.”
“Pleased to see you again. You know the Major well?”
“Not terribly well, Temmilan,” answered Jimjoy. “This is the second time we’ve met. She was considering making amends for running into me with a full tray of scampig broth.”
“Major Wright is always accurate, Temmilan. It is one of his worse faults.”
“You may be right, Thelina. Make what amends you can…if he will accept them.” Temmilan nodded to them with a pleasant, if distant, smile and eased past the table.
“And what did you do to her?” asked Thelina dryly.
Jimjoy found himself flushing, and shrugged.
“That bad?”
“No. You might say it was what I didn’t do.”
“That’s worse.” By now the silver-haired Ecolitan was smiling an indecently broad smile.
Jimjoy looked down at the last few bites of the lingholm and speared a small morsel, gulping it down.
“Well, you have some ethics, if no taste.”
“Won’t claim either.”
“Let’s take a walk. Whether you intended to or not, you’ve just told the whole world you’re looking for me. After that confrontation, half the Institute will be told that we’re lovers.”
“Uhhnn…” choked Jimjoy.
“Temmilan’s the biggest gossip around, except for old Firion.”
The Imperial Special Operative managed to choke down the last of the fish. He followed that with a deep swallow of liftea to clear his throat.
“Am I that unattractive, Major?”
“I believe you mentioned a walk.” He stood.
“I did. The main garden would be nice, if you don’t mind, the one by the biology quad.”
“Lead on, Ecolitan Andruz.”
Neither said anything until they had entered the garden and taken the second path to the left, which led toward a bench surrounded by a low hedge on three sides and shaded by a large evergreen.
Jimjoy glanced upward.
“Silft…native. This bench is proofed for conversation. Have a seat, Major.”
Jimjoy raised his eyebrows, but followed her directions. Thelina seated herself next to him, as closely as he could have wished under other circumstances.
“Look toward that building. See the lack of focus?”
Jimjoy nodded. Obviously the raised hillock on which rested tree, hedge, and bench contained more than mere earth.
“Why don’t you trust the Empire? And why should we help you, assuming we could? Specifics, please, Major.”
He took a deep breath before starting. “Simple. My cover was broadcast to every outsystem agent possible. Commander…the agent at the hotel…were clearly after me. If I leave on any recognized transport, there’s no way I can count on recognizing my own assassin. You and your people are clearly able to track me anywhere and keep me from getting off-planet without your consent.”
Jimjoy shrugged. “And if I tried to stay here, the Empire would put pressure on you. Insist that you send me back on a planned schedule, during which I would meet some sort of unfortunate accident. If you stood up to them directly…that gives them an excuse to come down hard, say with three or four fleets.
“Doesn’t leave you many options. Odds are that if anything happens to me, and that’s exactly what the Service wants, they’ll tag you with it. I’d like to stay in one piece. You’d like that, too—professionally, at least. That means I have to get off-planet and to a location where I can show up so visibly that the Empire has a problem with me, not with you.”
Thelina looked straight ahead, not meeting his eyes. “This one time, Major, I agree with your logic and all your conclusions. You did forget one option.”
“My death here by doing something wrong? No…that would still get me out of the Empire’s hair and allow them to use me as a martyr and a cause to move against you.”
“That was not what I had in mind. What if you stayed here, at least for a few weeks longer, then suddenly appeared back at your original duty station?”
“Some risk for the ‘local’ Major Wright, isn’t there?”
“Not if he stays at the Institute.”
Jimjoy grinned at the thought of confounding Commander Hersnik.
“What do we get from it, Major?” The Ecolitan’s voice was soft but cool.
“What do you want? Editing rights to my report? Future information? My gratitude? Mutual survival? Those are the options, but my chances for future information and long-term survival are slim.”
“They’re probably nonexistent.” Her voice was flat.
“Where there’s life…”
“I suppose so. You don’t offer much.”
“Editing my report…”
“Major, we would only edit your report to point out factual errors. Frankly, we want it to be as complete and accurate as possible. That is one reason why we would prefer to keep you in good standing, officially, until someone in authority actually reads it.” She paused, then added, “That’s because the rumors about us are far more deadly than the facts.”
And more true, probably, thought the Major, not vocalizing the thought.
“That should do it,” concluded Thelina. “Now, put your arm around me for a moment, as if we’re about to say good-bye. A bit more affectionately, Major. There will be some speculation as to why we’re seen together, and we need to give the gossips the right flavor. You were right about that also.”
Jimjoy put his arm around her, as requested, and leaned toward her, although he could feel his eyebrows raised in question.
“How else can I see you? Especially after hours. Everyone will think you’ve made another conquest, Major.”
He could feel himself blushing, and resenting it. She leaned into his arm, briefly resting her head against his. Just as he was beginning to enjoy the feeling, she sat up and looked at her wrist.
“I’ll be late, again.” Her lips brushed his cheek, and she was gone, leaving him standing by the bench.
He did not shake his head, but he wondered if he had actually had his arm around her.