"Y'know, I never imagined the competition version involved so many tricky permutations. It's more complicated than painting pretty pictures with a reversible Life variant, as I did with my set in jail. It'll be a challenge holding our own against even junior players."
Maia could not believe his penchant for understatement. Just when she thought she was starting to understand Renna, he surprised her again. "All they want to do is laugh at us. I won't be embarrassed like that again."
Renna seemed puzzled. "It's only a game, Maia," he chided lightly.
"If you think that, then you don't know much about men on Stratos!"
Her hot response gave Renna pause. He pondered for a moment. "Well … all the more reason to explore the matter further, then. Are you sure you won't . . . ?" When Maia shook her head firmly, he sighed. "In that case, I'd better get to work if I'm to have a game plan ready by this evening." He stood up. "We'll talk later?"
"Mm," she replied noncommittally, finding a way to occupy her hands and eyes, folding the sighting rods of her sextant with meticulous care as he departed with a cheery goodbye. Maia felt irked and confused as his footsteps receded — as much by his obstinacy in continuing to play the stupid game as by the way he took her refusal so well.
I guess I should be grateful to have a friend at all. She sighed. Nobody's ever going to find me indispensable, that's for sure.
It turned out he needed her even less than she had thought. When lunch was called, Maia took Renna his plate as usual, only to find him sitting near the fantail with the electronic Life Set on his lap, surrounded by a cluster of extremely attentive young rads.
"So you see," he explained, gesturing from one corner the board to the other. "If you want to create a simulated ecology that'll do both things — resist invasion from outside while persisting in a self-sustaining manner — you have to make sure all elements interact in such a way that — Ah, Maia!" Renna looked up with unmistakable pleasure. "Glad you've changed your mind. I had an idea. You can tell me if I'm being an idiot."
Don't tempt me, she thought in a flash of jealous temper. Which was silly, of course. Renna appeared oblivious, so caught up in his enthusiasm for concepts to notice that these vars weren't swarming over him out of any love of abstractions.
"Brought you the chef's special," she said, trying to maintain a light tone. "Of course, if anyone else is hungry . . ."
The other women shot her daggers. By unspoken agreement, two of them got up to fetch, so the rest could keep Renna attended.
They're the idiots, Maia thought, noting that other clusters of women could be seen following any ship's officer who stepped off the sacrosanct quarterdeck. All this had been provoked by the morning's glory fall. She doubted any of the vars actually wanted to get pregnant here and now. Not without a niche and bankroll to raise a child securely. Maia had seen women putting pinches of ovop leaf in their cheeks, as a safeguard against conception.
Even if pleasure was the sole objective, however, their hopes were ill-fated. Great clans spent fortunes entertaining men in winter, getting them in the mood. Without incentives, most of Manitou's sailors would choose whittling and games over providing exertive services free of charge. Well . . . I've seen exceptions, Maia admitted. But Tizbe Beller's drug was doubtless far too dear for rads to afford, even if they had the right contacts.
"Go on," one of the young women urged Renna. It was the slim blonde Maia had overheard earlier, now leaning against Renna's shoulder to look at the game board, hoping to distract his attention back from Maia. "You were talking about ecology," the rad said in a low voice. "Explain again what that has to do with the patterns of dots."
She's acting stupid on purpose. Maia watched Renna shift uncomfortably. And it's going to backfire on her.
Sure enough, Renna lifted his eyes in a silent sigh, and gave Maia an apologetic glance before answering. "What I meant was that each individual organism in an ecosystem interacts primarily with its neighbors, just like in the game, though, of course, the rules are vastly more complex …"
Maia felt a moment of triumph. His look meant he preferred her conversation to the others' close-pressed attentions, no matter that they were older, physically more mature. Naturally, his reaction would have been different in summer, when rut turned all men into —
Wait a minute. Maia stopped short suddenly. We talked about seasonal sexuality on Stratos. Deep-down, though, I kept assuming that it applied to him.
Does it, though? Would summer and winter have anything to do with what Renna feels?
