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demeanor.
    Dhreen took a large portion of the meal I’d prepared, and tasted it with a grin. “Did I mention this is orifice-salivating, Doc?”
    “Mouthwatering,” I corrected. To repay Dhreen’s undemanding hospitality, I’d coaxed some more sophisticated dishes from his limited food supplies over the past week. The preparation unit he possessed was, like everything else on the Bestshot, a conglomeration of salvaged parts. Yet with a little inventive programming, I was able to produce some appetizing fare.
    It also helped to keep me occupied. The closer we came to K-2, the larger the mistake I might be making seemed to grow. By the last day, it was nearing the dimensions of Jupiter.
    It didn’t always help, I thought ruefully, to keep busy. I had no appetite left, and declined to eat my full share of the meal. Dhreen happily polished off the last of the spicy vegetable and synpro stew.
    “If you ever decide to give up medicine, you should open a restaurant,” he said, sighed, and glanced down at himself. “I’ve put on at least a couple of kilos with you on board.”
    “You’re welcome,” I replied, trying not to sound too ironic as I added, “it’s nice to know I have something to fall back on. So tell me, where are you headed after K-2?”
    “Plenty of traders around the border looking for cargo space,” Dhreen said, rubbing one of his almost-ears. I had learned that gesture was the Oenrallian equivalent of a smirk. “Lots of newlies pay hefty credits for return passage to their homeworlds, too.”
    “Newlies?”
    “Newly established traders... newly installed jaunt routers... newly transferred physicians...”
    “Not a chance, friend,” I said. “You’ve gained your last credit from my account.”
    “Listen, Doc...” Dhreen’s good-natured features sobered. “I haven’t grilled about your plans, like I said, none of my business. But you should know the territories... well, they aren’t like your homeworld.”
    I was counting on it. “Don’t worry, Dhreen. I’ll be fine.”
    “If you say so.” He checked his wristcom, which reflected the helm status. “Looks like we’ll be arriving in 2.5 Terran stanhours. Time enough to take a nap, if you’d like.”
    Sleep. Right. Was he kidding?
    I spent the last hour pacing my cabin, checking the viewport every five minutes. At last I forced myself to sit down and try to relax. Sleep, however, was out. Music, I thought, and opened one of my cases.
    As I sorted through my collection, I recalled how much it had irritated my father that I didn’t share his taste in music. I liked a little of everything, and a lot of jazz. He preferred more conservative compositions by ancients like Wagner and Beethoven.
    I frowned at one disc without a label. What’s this? I was about to load it in my player when Dhreen announced that we were in orbit. I dropped the headset and case, tripping over my own feet in my dash to the viewport.
    Below the ship loomed a massive, grayish-green orb surrounded by an asymmetrical ring of some twenty moons.
    Kevarzangia Two.
    Thin swirls of pale green clouds softened the atmosphere of the enormous globe. Beyond K-2’s outer curve, I spotted the distant, twin suns, glowing with amber-orange light. Two blazing giants caught forever in each other’s magnetic allure.
    “Suns,” I murmured softly. Now I understood why that word was used as an expletive out here.
    According to the data, Kevarzangia Two was somewhat larger than Terra by a difference of three thousand kilometers. Somewhat larger? Who were they trying to fool? It was enormous. The length of a standard day was almost identical to Terra, due to the increased rotational speed of the planet. There were two distinct continents, immense land masses, and the colony was located in the northwest region of the largest.
    I knew I couldn’t see it from here. I still tried to see if I could pick it out.
    K-2, like Terra, was a water world. The highest order of native life-forms