Joris nodded. He walked away across the apron as though he carried on his massive shoulders some heavy burden that weighed them down. Trehearne signed over his manifests to the port official in charge of unloading and went in search of Shairn.
She stood outside the great barred gate, watching for him. She was just as beautiful as he remembered.
He said, "You haven't forgotten me then?"
"No. Did you expect me to?"
"I wouldn't have been surprised."
She laughed—the sweet familiar laughter spiced with mockery. "You're a wise man." She cocked her head back and studied him. "You've changed. You've got so brown and hard and—older. I think I like you even better now. But I'll have to learn to know you all over again." She pulled him toward the long, sleek vehicle that waited. "It will be nice," she said, "this getting acquainted again!"
The broad road took them northward along the coast, away from the clamoring spaceport and the city. The cliffs rose from the golden sea, wild and forbidding.
She asked suddenly, "Where did you get that?"
His sleeve had fallen back and she was looking at the scars on his wrist.
"Someone set the hounds on me," Trehearne answered indifferently. Then, "By the way, how is Kerrel?"