Sandcats of Rhyl Read Free

feel threat?” The creature’s mouth barely moved as it spoke. Nightwind couldn’t discern any expression at all on its face.
    “Constantly.” Nightwind was momentarily startled when the Maezen went into a trance. Its arms curled over its head indicating the creature was telepathically communicating with others of its race in preparation for death.
    Nightwind hastily amended, “No danger to
your
body!” The creature’s reaction was so sudden it made Nightwind smile ruefully. Tenseness flowed from its supple limbs, and the Maezen sidled away, its question answered and assured no immediate danger existed to its person. With the inexplicability of an alien mentality, it seemed to be totally unconcerned now about what danger Nightwind might have sensed.
    Another passenger had joined Nightwind in a soft chuckle. He turned to see a woman seated at a nearby table. She was lounging back in a reclining chair, long legs thrusting out from under the edge of an expensive, short green silk dress. She raised her glass to Nightwind in obvious invitation.
    “Come, join me,” she called out in a lilting voice. “The lounge might fill up soon, and you won’t be able to find another seat.”
    Nightwind knew the lounge would remain empty until after the midday meal. Even the Maezen had left. But he liked the come-on. And he liked the woman’s appearance. Young, perhaps twenty solar standard years, though with the cosmetics, plastic surgery and anti-geriatric drugs available, she could have been ten times that age and not looked much different. Shoulder-length brunette hair, soft brown eyes that danced with merriment, pursed ruby lips, a full figure and — the invitation.
    “Suppose I grab this chair before the crowd steals it away. Thank you for having me over in my moment of need.” Sitting back in his chair, he placed his drink on the table and waited.
    The woman frowned slightly. “You’re a strange one. A lovely girl invites you over to her table and you simply sit there. No big line to impress me, no heavy masculine ego buildup trying to seduce me. I find it hard to believe you’re — ”
    Nightwind shrugged. “I’m not. And I find you very lovely. But it was you who called me over. I assumed you had something you wanted to say to me.” He didn’t stir. His cold black eyes bored into the woman’s softer brown eyes until she looked away in sudden discomfort.
    “I … nothing. I just wanted someone to talk to. Sorry to have bothered you.”
    Nightwind still didn’t move. “You seemed to be amused at the short conversation I had with the Maezen.”
    “You don’t say much, do you?” she snapped, her eyes blazing again. Impulsively she said, “I’m Steorra.”
    “Steorra? A lovely name. Is that your name or your home planet?”
    “My name, silly! There’s no planet named Steorra. Though I think it would be such a nice … vanity! Yes, a vanity!”
    Nightwind wondered at the woman’s intentions. She was working hard to maintain the conversation. He wondered why. He might possess a masculine charm, but he doubted it. Cold, ebon eyes such as his were sure to drive off all but the most determined woman. And he was not that physically attractive. He was too tall, too thin. Lacking in bulky muscles, Nightwind made up for it with quickness and brains. And being a shrewd judge of character, Steorra wasn’t stupid; she was play-acting to make him think she was just another bored, rich traveler. He was sure Steorra wanted something from him, something more than companionship for one tired of being locked inside the belly of a starship.
    “I just don’t understand you. Don’t I interest you at all?” The woman was beginning to look perplexed. That put Nightwind on his guard. She should have been vexed. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have been as witty and charming as possible to her. But some small thing refused to leave Nightwind’s mind, kept nagging at him that Steorra was more than she