After the first few dates, things began to take a more serious turn for Roger. He felt
connected to the intense young physician in many ways. Most of Roger's previous experiences with
women had been fairly shallow flirtations to one degree or another. He'd never experienced
genuine friendship with a female before. Rowan Daestar provided a level of companionship he
never dreamt could exist.
They shared a fierce curiousity about life, about their purpose in being in the world at
this strange time, and a passion for trying to make the world right. They could, and did, talk
and argue about almost anything with an openess new to Roger. It was as if he'd found a
kindred spirit long lost. There were only two problems. Firstly, Rowan was very reluctant to
get physically intimate. That was not a real difficulty for Smith - he felt the green-eyed
beauty was worth the wait. It was the second problem that was starting to get to him. She was
keeping most of her private life, well, private.
Rowan would disappear for days at a time. Her phone number was an answering service.
Smith had no idea where she lived. They would always meet at their destination. Even searching
public records only revealed a handful of photos.
Most men would have considered all the mystery too much trouble. Roger Smith found it
irresistible. Ro was smart, sharp, independent, and gorgeous to boot. The woman was a
challenge to his ego and his intelligence - certainly a better way to occupy his time than
brooding over his disappointment with the Military Police. How could he not stay in the game?
Soaping up in his narrow shower stall, Roger mulled over his possible strategies.
Since he had the day off, he and Rowan were meeting for a late breakfast. Carefully choosing
his clothes, the young man got dressed. He took one last look at himself in his mirror before
leaving. Roger smoothed his gelled black hair, tugged his leather jacket so it would lay just
so - he looked good. Smirking at his reflection, Smith decided to confront Ro directly. If
I'm going to blow this, he thought, might as well get it over with early.
Roger's resolve and his knees weakened as soon as he spotted his breakfast companion
waiting for him. As usual, the lovely young woman was simply and elegantly dressed, this time
in dark gray trousers and a softly fitted pale gray shirt. Her silky black hair hung braided
down her back. The only makeup he could discern was her soft pink lipstick. As Roger approached,
she glanced in his direction. Watching her beautiful face light up almost made her mysterious
ways forgiveable...but not quite. Roger wanted more than Rowan was offering, much more.
Smith held his tongue til the busboy had cleared the dishes off the table. It was now or
never. "Rowan, you've made it very obvious that you are keeping me at arm's length. I enjoy the
time we spend together and I think you do too...so what is going on? Do you think I can't be
trusted?"
He watched the muscles in her jaw briefly tighten, but went on anyway: "Even Dastun
couldn't - or wouldn't - tell me anything. What are hiding that even your uncle doesn't
know?" Smith reached his hand out, gently touching her blank face. "Are you married?"
To his surprise she started to laugh.
"Uhmm...what's so funny?"
"Roger, I'm not married." She patted his hand, kissed it as well. "Also, I'm not giving
you a hard time just for the hell of it either. I'm just trying to protect you, and Dan as
well. My life is not simple."
"Rowan Daestar, you are being unfair. I think I deserve some answers." He was genuinely
bothered by this.
Daestar studied his handsome face in silence. It felt as if her sea-green eyes were
reading his soul.
"Okay," she said, "but not here. I will answer anything you ask as best I can."
They left the cafe, strolling down the street as they talked. Roger plunged right in:
"What is your real relationship with Dastun? There are no complete records going back far enough
(yes, I snooped) to see if he had brothers or sisters, and I'd find it hard to believe he's your
father, or any kind of real relative. You two look and sound nothing alike."
Rowan looked straight ahead as she answered. "You're a good detective, Roger Smith. You're
right - we are not related by blood in any way. Dan...Major Dastun...knew my parents for many
years...they fought side by side in the Underground during the dark times after the Event.
My parents were murdered when I was a child. I managed to escape their fate, but was betrayed
and recaptured a couple of years later. The authorities placed me in some sort of strange
internment camp with other children...I guess a lot of us were orphaned then." Daestar took a
deep breath, then continued in a flat quiet voice. "Somehow Dan found out I was still alive.
He tracked me down, got me out. How he did that I will never know. Dan Dastun gave me
sanctuary, hid me from my parents' killers. I can never repay the debt I owe him. I can only
try to keep him safe."
Roger was shocked by her words. He'd never expected this kind of answer. He placed his
hands on her shoulders, turned her to face him. He wanted to shout, but spoke softly instead:
"Why was your family murdered, Rowan? Who did this? Have they been brought to justice? Surely
the Military Police could do something, I could do something..."
"No." She shook her head. "It happened during the Great Purge. They were foreign nationals
(can't you hear it in my voice?) We fled the city, went out into the wilderness. There was a
bounty on our heads. We hid for years, but someone found us out, turned us over to the proper
authorities." A tear ran down her pale cheek. "Then they were gone. I don't know where I'd be
if Dan hadn't rescued me."
She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. "Enough of this. Would you like to know
why I'm really trouble?"
connected to the intense young physician in many ways. Most of Roger's previous experiences with
women had been fairly shallow flirtations to one degree or another. He'd never experienced
genuine friendship with a female before. Rowan Daestar provided a level of companionship he
never dreamt could exist.
They shared a fierce curiousity about life, about their purpose in being in the world at
this strange time, and a passion for trying to make the world right. They could, and did, talk
and argue about almost anything with an openess new to Roger. It was as if he'd found a
kindred spirit long lost. There were only two problems. Firstly, Rowan was very reluctant to
get physically intimate. That was not a real difficulty for Smith - he felt the green-eyed
beauty was worth the wait. It was the second problem that was starting to get to him. She was
keeping most of her private life, well, private.
Rowan would disappear for days at a time. Her phone number was an answering service.
Smith had no idea where she lived. They would always meet at their destination. Even searching
public records only revealed a handful of photos.
Most men would have considered all the mystery too much trouble. Roger Smith found it
irresistible. Ro was smart, sharp, independent, and gorgeous to boot. The woman was a
challenge to his ego and his intelligence - certainly a better way to occupy his time than
brooding over his disappointment with the Military Police. How could he not stay in the game?
Soaping up in his narrow shower stall, Roger mulled over his possible strategies.
Since he had the day off, he and Rowan were meeting for a late breakfast. Carefully choosing
his clothes, the young man got dressed. He took one last look at himself in his mirror before
leaving. Roger smoothed his gelled black hair, tugged his leather jacket so it would lay just
so - he looked good. Smirking at his reflection, Smith decided to confront Ro directly. If
I'm going to blow this, he thought, might as well get it over with early.
Roger's resolve and his knees weakened as soon as he spotted his breakfast companion
waiting for him. As usual, the lovely young woman was simply and elegantly dressed, this time
in dark gray trousers and a softly fitted pale gray shirt. Her silky black hair hung braided
down her back. The only makeup he could discern was her soft pink lipstick. As Roger approached,
she glanced in his direction. Watching her beautiful face light up almost made her mysterious
ways forgiveable...but not quite. Roger wanted more than Rowan was offering, much more.
Smith held his tongue til the busboy had cleared the dishes off the table. It was now or
never. "Rowan, you've made it very obvious that you are keeping me at arm's length. I enjoy the
time we spend together and I think you do too...so what is going on? Do you think I can't be
trusted?"
He watched the muscles in her jaw briefly tighten, but went on anyway: "Even Dastun
couldn't - or wouldn't - tell me anything. What are hiding that even your uncle doesn't
know?" Smith reached his hand out, gently touching her blank face. "Are you married?"
To his surprise she started to laugh.
"Uhmm...what's so funny?"
"Roger, I'm not married." She patted his hand, kissed it as well. "Also, I'm not giving
you a hard time just for the hell of it either. I'm just trying to protect you, and Dan as
well. My life is not simple."
"Rowan Daestar, you are being unfair. I think I deserve some answers." He was genuinely
bothered by this.
Daestar studied his handsome face in silence. It felt as if her sea-green eyes were
reading his soul.
"Okay," she said, "but not here. I will answer anything you ask as best I can."
They left the cafe, strolling down the street as they talked. Roger plunged right in:
"What is your real relationship with Dastun? There are no complete records going back far enough
(yes, I snooped) to see if he had brothers or sisters, and I'd find it hard to believe he's your
father, or any kind of real relative. You two look and sound nothing alike."
Rowan looked straight ahead as she answered. "You're a good detective, Roger Smith. You're
right - we are not related by blood in any way. Dan...Major Dastun...knew my parents for many
years...they fought side by side in the Underground during the dark times after the Event.
My parents were murdered when I was a child. I managed to escape their fate, but was betrayed
and recaptured a couple of years later. The authorities placed me in some sort of strange
internment camp with other children...I guess a lot of us were orphaned then." Daestar took a
deep breath, then continued in a flat quiet voice. "Somehow Dan found out I was still alive.
He tracked me down, got me out. How he did that I will never know. Dan Dastun gave me
sanctuary, hid me from my parents' killers. I can never repay the debt I owe him. I can only
try to keep him safe."
Roger was shocked by her words. He'd never expected this kind of answer. He placed his
hands on her shoulders, turned her to face him. He wanted to shout, but spoke softly instead:
"Why was your family murdered, Rowan? Who did this? Have they been brought to justice? Surely
the Military Police could do something, I could do something..."
"No." She shook her head. "It happened during the Great Purge. They were foreign nationals
(can't you hear it in my voice?) We fled the city, went out into the wilderness. There was a
bounty on our heads. We hid for years, but someone found us out, turned us over to the proper
authorities." A tear ran down her pale cheek. "Then they were gone. I don't know where I'd be
if Dan hadn't rescued me."
She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. "Enough of this. Would you like to know
why I'm really trouble?"