The Dragon Variation Read Online Free PDF

Liad and Terra have never been cordial, though there have been periods of lesser and greater strain. Liad prefers to thrash Terra roundly in the field of galactic trade—a terrain it shaped—while Terra gives birth to this and that Terran-supremacist faction, whose mischief seems always to stop just short of actual warfare.
    —From "The Struggle for Fair Trade,"
doctoral dissertation of Indrew Jorman,
published by Archive Press, University
 
    THE SURREY'S ding woke her; she got a grip on her briefcase and went up the autostairs in a fog.
    On the Quad, the sharp night breeze roused her and she stopped to stretch cramped leg and back muscles, staring up into a sky thick with stars. It was a very different night sky than Proziski's, with its gaggle of moons. She and Er Thom had counted those moons one night, lying naked next to each other on the roof of the unfinished Mercantile Building, the end of a bolt of trade-silk serving as coverlet and mattress. She liked to think Shan had come from that night.
    She shook her head at the laden sky and took one last deep breath before turning toward the block that held her apartment.
    She walked past the darkened deli and rode the lift to the seventh floor, trying to remember if she had eaten the last roll that morning for breakfast. She recalled a cup of coffee, gulped between feeding Shan and getting him ready for his trip to Jerzy's place. She remembered having to go back for her notes for the afternoon's lecture.
    She didn't remember eating breakfast at all, and she had been too busy with a promising research line to break off for lunch . . .
    Anne sighed. You need a keeper , she told herself severely. The lift door cycled and she stepped out into the hallway.
    A slim figure turned from before her door and began to walk toward her, keeping scrupulously to the center of the hall, where the lights were brightest. Anne hesitated, cataloging bright hair, slender stature, leather jacket—
    "Er Thom." She barely heard her own whisper, hardly knew that she had increased her stride, until she was almost running toward him.
    He met her halfway, extending a slim golden hand on which his amethyst master trader's ring blazed. She caught his fingers in hers and stood looking down at him, wide mouth curved in a smile no dimmer than the one he had treasured, all this time.
    "Er Thom," she said in her rich, lilting voice. "I'm so very happy to see you, my friend."
    Happy. What a small word, to describe the dazzling, dizzying joy that threatened to engulf him. He hung onto her hand, though it would have been more proper to bow. "I am—happy—to see you, also," he managed, smiling up into her eyes. "They keep you working late . . ."
    She laughed. "A departmental meeting—it dragged on and on! I can't imagine what they found to talk about." She sobered. "Have you been waiting long?"
    "Not very long." Hours. He had despaired a dozen times; walked away and returned two dozen . . . three . . . He showed her the bag he held. "Are you hungry? I have food, wine."
    "My thoughtful friend. Starved . Come in." She tugged on his hand, turning him back toward the anonymous door that marked her dwelling place. "How long are you stopping, Er Thom?"
    He hesitated and she looked at him closely.
    "More than just today? Don't tell me that stupid meeting has kept me away for half your visit!"
    "No." He smiled up at her. "I do not know how long I am staying, you see. It depends upon—circumstances."
    "Oh," she said wisely, " circumstances. " She let go his hand and lay her palm against the door's lockplate. With a grand, meaningless flourish, she bowed him across the threshold.
    Just within and to one side, he stopped to watch her cross the room, past the shrouded half-chora to the wall-desk, where she lay her briefcase down with a sigh. It struck him that she moved less gracefully than he recalled, and nearly gasped at the sharpness of his concern.
    "Anne?" He was at her elbow in a flicker,