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" "Of course it is; I brought you here. I know my entertainment," said Swipe. "Maybe he'd consider dancing if a young woman asked him." "Possibly." Swipe plugged his nose again, sneezed. "We can offer her a few credits." "Who?" He sneezed again. "A native gal. Some are quite lovely, quite a novelty to a tourist, and they'd die for intergalactic credits." "Well why don't you ask her," and Swipe pointed at a young Orian sitting alone at a nearby table. "Right!" As the trill soloist walked on stage, the ballroom grew quiet. For just a moment the performer was silhouetted against the light rays streaming into the crowd, then he lay supinely before the projector and lifted the trill to his mouth. The triple-piped instrument rose vertically from his face and captured a beam of light. A lone, high note sounded, echoing against the curvature of the ballroom's dome, then fell as cascading colors. The trill was in tune, and now the musician let her fly. Streaks of colors accompanied or preceded. She was genuinely tired, and I suspect she was more than happy to lie down. She stretched out on the couch. I got a spare pillow and a blanket, and got her situated. "Aren't you the domestic one," she mumbled, and started snoring.I sat at my terminal, started a job, and then dropped into my recliner. I figured a few minutes rest would be all that I needed.I awoke at 9am to the smell of fresh coffee.I was a little disoriented. I lived alone, and had for three years, since my wife died. I got up and saw Sara at the table."Hi," she said, sounding chipper and a little nervous. "I took the liberty of making some coffee." No, no, that's great," I said - or rather slurred. I'm not much good without my morning caffeine. "How long have you been up?" About an hour," she replied.I excused myself to the bathroom. When I came back, there was coffee poured and waiting. Sara gave me a rundown on how things were going. All in all, we were doing well. I fixed us some breakfast, and we ate as we.
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