Festival Day occurred twice a year on Epsilon Zeta - once at the spring
sowing season and again at the harvests. This was the spring festival, held
directly after the young plants were put into the ground. There was never
a shortage of food on Epsilon Zeta, so the festivities included a bountiful
table - fruits and vegetables all making up a simple but delicious banquet.
A hospitable people, the populace welcomed Blake and his crew as their own, drawing them into the celebrations. The day had brought jugglers, clowns, musicians and amusements of every kind. Now, the night was filled with music, and couples dancing in the torch-lit square. Feelings ran high this night - joy and contentment in a job well done, as well as optimism for the coming season.
Blake and his crew had joined in the festivities along with the natives. Now, Blake found himself alone at one of the small tables scattered throughout the plaza, and surveyed the happy scene.
Jenna was in the arms of a large trader, awkwardly learning the steps of some ancient folk dance. Cally and Vila were also dancing; Vila was a far better dancer than Blake would have credited, and Cally looked happy and more contented than she had been in a long time. He wondered briefly at the growing relationship between the two. Blake was glad she had found comfort - a kindred spirit if you will - to help fill her need.
Avon sat a little apart from the others. He was watching the dancers with an open air of amused tolerance. Avon had spent rather more time on the planet than he had expected to do, walking the wooded paths, wandering the marketplace or just sitting by the pond.
Although he was still most at ease with his own solitude, he'd found himself accepting more invitations for company, with Blake and even Vila began to seek him out more now, including him in conversations and, once, even convincing him to share several large bottles of the strong local wine. Avon had gamely - and stubbornly - tried to keep up with the thief, and had found out, much too late, that the Delta had an amazing capacity for alcohol that he couldn't hope to match.
Things had turned hazy and uncertain after the second bottle, but Avon had the uncomfortably vivid memory of Vila, laughter in his eyes, half carrying him to a bed in the small local inn, and literally pouring him into it. As if from a great distance, he heard a voice he only later identified as his own mumbling, "You really are a fool, Vila."
And Vila, without the slightest trace of a slur (blast him!), retorting, "Maybe so, but I m not the one with my foot stuck in the flower pot!"
Things had gone mercifully black at that point, but for days afterward, Vila had had the most annoying tendency to burst into laughter every time he saw a fern. Avon had no clear memory of the reality of the incident and considered it prudent not to ask. Some things he didn't want to know!
Avon lifted his head slightly, meeting a pair of brown eyes aimed affectionately in his direction. He turned away quickly, in confusion. Although he kept watching the swirling dancers, in his mind, Avon's eyes were still locked with Blake's brown ones. How could Blake cause such a weakness in the defenses he had spent long years constructing? What was this man, that he should cause Avon to feel anything at all, much less the frightening and confusing friendship that surged behind the carefully controlled mask?
Relaxed as he was, from two glasses of the strong red wine (blast Vila anyway!) and the easy laughter around him, Avon allowed himself a rare moment of honest introspection. He lifted his head again, surreptitiously studying the profile of the other man. Even in repose, the latent force within that powerful frame seemed to extend outward beyond the boundaries of his own aura to include all those in the immediate vicinity.
That Blake cared for him as a human being rather than a tool was something that the computer tech was only now beginning to believe. Why Blake would show any inclination to like him, Avon was at a loss to comprehend.
This type of caring was so familiar; an uncomfortable subject, yet under the mellowing influence of the wine, Avon did not feel inclined to shy away from it this time.
As a young child, Avon had learned to recognize the protective instincts that all 'big brothers' seemed to possess, and being a younger brother himself, had picked out this trait immediately in Blake, and had been astonished - and annoyed - when Blake had directed his 'big-brother' instincts toward Avon himself. Still, the computer tech had to admit to himself (after another glass of wine) that sometimes such caring and unasked-for affection was...well, comforting. Not that it would do to admit that to Blake! It might give the man ideas. Make him think that the friendship and affection was... returned?
Another dangerous subject. Best to drop it altogether and have another glass of this excellent wine.
***
Gan and Shel wound their way hand-in-hand through the crowd to Blake's table. Shel had taken immediately to Gan's friends, as had they to her. She was a lively, quick-witted woman, whose sense of humor had even brought a smile to Avon's lips (much to Gan's relief!). Gan had grown to love his friends aboard the Liberator; he'd even become fond of Avon, despite the man s sharp tongue. He was pleased his friends were growing fond of Shel. It would make easier what he had to do.
Blake greeted the couple with a bright smile. "Gan, Shel. I was wondering if you two were going to dance all night.
"Shel laughed merrily. "I probably could, as long as I was dancing with my Olag!"
"I don't think I could keep up with her much longer." The big man wiped his face with a handkerchief, "I'm not quite as young as I used to be."
"Young enough for me!" Shel reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Oh, there is Jimna and Arlo. Darling, I really have to go say hello. Do you mind?"
Gan wiped his face again. "You go ahead. I want to talk with Blake, anyway."
Shel directed another sunny smile Blake's way. "I expect you to ask me to dance at least once before the evening is out, Roj. You look like you'd be a wonderful dancer."
He rose and bowed formally. "You may not think so after we dance, but it will be my pleasure."
She skipped away. Gan nodded in the direction of the garden adjoining the plaza. "How about a walk? The garden is nice and quiet."
The two men strolled casually from the plaza, passing the bench on which Avon was sittings "Not dancing tonight, Avon?" Gan asked.
Bright black eyes met his briefly, then turned back to the dancers. "I've had enough 'celebration' for one day," he replied coolly, "I prefer to watch."
The big man shrugged genially. "Enjoy yourself, then." As they moved away, he murmured sotto voce "I almost feel sorry for him sometimes. I don't think he even knows how to enjoy himself."
They walked a way companionably, listening to the soft sounds of music that drifted through the still night air. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Gan?"
Gan hesitated, picking his words carefully. "Blake, I've been . seeing quite a bit of Shel lately."
Blake smiled at him. "We have rather noticed that. You're very fond of her, aren't you?"
"More than that, Blake," he blurted, "I'm going to marry her!"
"Well, now," Blake began, "I won't say it's unexpected." He clapped the larger man on the shoulder. "Congratulations! She's a wonderful woman."
Gan grinned back sheepishly. "You're not angry that I'm leaving the crew? I know you'll be shorthanded, but..."
"Angry?" Blake turned serious. "How can I be angry, Gan, when you're only doing what each one of us dream of? You're a good man - a good friend. You deserve all the happiness you can find. And don't worry about us being shorthanded/' he went on mischievously. "It just means that Vila is going to have to do some work for a change."
"He'll hate that!" They laughed together, sharing the joy of the occasion. Then Gan sobered, "I'm going to have to tell Vila sometime, I suppose. I'm going to miss the little guy."
"Are you so sure he won't stay here with you?" the other asked, reaching down to pick a pink blossom.
Gan looked surprised. "I hadn't thought of that. That would leave you very shorthanded, wouldn't it?"
"We'll manage, don't you worry about that. Right now, why don't we head back to the party. You've got an announcement to make, and I've got a pretty little redhead waiting to dance with me!"
***
A hospitable people, the populace welcomed Blake and his crew as their own, drawing them into the celebrations. The day had brought jugglers, clowns, musicians and amusements of every kind. Now, the night was filled with music, and couples dancing in the torch-lit square. Feelings ran high this night - joy and contentment in a job well done, as well as optimism for the coming season.
Blake and his crew had joined in the festivities along with the natives. Now, Blake found himself alone at one of the small tables scattered throughout the plaza, and surveyed the happy scene.
Jenna was in the arms of a large trader, awkwardly learning the steps of some ancient folk dance. Cally and Vila were also dancing; Vila was a far better dancer than Blake would have credited, and Cally looked happy and more contented than she had been in a long time. He wondered briefly at the growing relationship between the two. Blake was glad she had found comfort - a kindred spirit if you will - to help fill her need.
Avon sat a little apart from the others. He was watching the dancers with an open air of amused tolerance. Avon had spent rather more time on the planet than he had expected to do, walking the wooded paths, wandering the marketplace or just sitting by the pond.
Although he was still most at ease with his own solitude, he'd found himself accepting more invitations for company, with Blake and even Vila began to seek him out more now, including him in conversations and, once, even convincing him to share several large bottles of the strong local wine. Avon had gamely - and stubbornly - tried to keep up with the thief, and had found out, much too late, that the Delta had an amazing capacity for alcohol that he couldn't hope to match.
Things had turned hazy and uncertain after the second bottle, but Avon had the uncomfortably vivid memory of Vila, laughter in his eyes, half carrying him to a bed in the small local inn, and literally pouring him into it. As if from a great distance, he heard a voice he only later identified as his own mumbling, "You really are a fool, Vila."
And Vila, without the slightest trace of a slur (blast him!), retorting, "Maybe so, but I m not the one with my foot stuck in the flower pot!"
Things had gone mercifully black at that point, but for days afterward, Vila had had the most annoying tendency to burst into laughter every time he saw a fern. Avon had no clear memory of the reality of the incident and considered it prudent not to ask. Some things he didn't want to know!
Avon lifted his head slightly, meeting a pair of brown eyes aimed affectionately in his direction. He turned away quickly, in confusion. Although he kept watching the swirling dancers, in his mind, Avon's eyes were still locked with Blake's brown ones. How could Blake cause such a weakness in the defenses he had spent long years constructing? What was this man, that he should cause Avon to feel anything at all, much less the frightening and confusing friendship that surged behind the carefully controlled mask?
Relaxed as he was, from two glasses of the strong red wine (blast Vila anyway!) and the easy laughter around him, Avon allowed himself a rare moment of honest introspection. He lifted his head again, surreptitiously studying the profile of the other man. Even in repose, the latent force within that powerful frame seemed to extend outward beyond the boundaries of his own aura to include all those in the immediate vicinity.
That Blake cared for him as a human being rather than a tool was something that the computer tech was only now beginning to believe. Why Blake would show any inclination to like him, Avon was at a loss to comprehend.
This type of caring was so familiar; an uncomfortable subject, yet under the mellowing influence of the wine, Avon did not feel inclined to shy away from it this time.
As a young child, Avon had learned to recognize the protective instincts that all 'big brothers' seemed to possess, and being a younger brother himself, had picked out this trait immediately in Blake, and had been astonished - and annoyed - when Blake had directed his 'big-brother' instincts toward Avon himself. Still, the computer tech had to admit to himself (after another glass of wine) that sometimes such caring and unasked-for affection was...well, comforting. Not that it would do to admit that to Blake! It might give the man ideas. Make him think that the friendship and affection was... returned?
Another dangerous subject. Best to drop it altogether and have another glass of this excellent wine.
***
Gan and Shel wound their way hand-in-hand through the crowd to Blake's table. Shel had taken immediately to Gan's friends, as had they to her. She was a lively, quick-witted woman, whose sense of humor had even brought a smile to Avon's lips (much to Gan's relief!). Gan had grown to love his friends aboard the Liberator; he'd even become fond of Avon, despite the man s sharp tongue. He was pleased his friends were growing fond of Shel. It would make easier what he had to do.
Blake greeted the couple with a bright smile. "Gan, Shel. I was wondering if you two were going to dance all night.
"Shel laughed merrily. "I probably could, as long as I was dancing with my Olag!"
"I don't think I could keep up with her much longer." The big man wiped his face with a handkerchief, "I'm not quite as young as I used to be."
"Young enough for me!" Shel reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Oh, there is Jimna and Arlo. Darling, I really have to go say hello. Do you mind?"
Gan wiped his face again. "You go ahead. I want to talk with Blake, anyway."
Shel directed another sunny smile Blake's way. "I expect you to ask me to dance at least once before the evening is out, Roj. You look like you'd be a wonderful dancer."
He rose and bowed formally. "You may not think so after we dance, but it will be my pleasure."
She skipped away. Gan nodded in the direction of the garden adjoining the plaza. "How about a walk? The garden is nice and quiet."
The two men strolled casually from the plaza, passing the bench on which Avon was sittings "Not dancing tonight, Avon?" Gan asked.
Bright black eyes met his briefly, then turned back to the dancers. "I've had enough 'celebration' for one day," he replied coolly, "I prefer to watch."
The big man shrugged genially. "Enjoy yourself, then." As they moved away, he murmured sotto voce "I almost feel sorry for him sometimes. I don't think he even knows how to enjoy himself."
They walked a way companionably, listening to the soft sounds of music that drifted through the still night air. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Gan?"
Gan hesitated, picking his words carefully. "Blake, I've been . seeing quite a bit of Shel lately."
Blake smiled at him. "We have rather noticed that. You're very fond of her, aren't you?"
"More than that, Blake," he blurted, "I'm going to marry her!"
"Well, now," Blake began, "I won't say it's unexpected." He clapped the larger man on the shoulder. "Congratulations! She's a wonderful woman."
Gan grinned back sheepishly. "You're not angry that I'm leaving the crew? I know you'll be shorthanded, but..."
"Angry?" Blake turned serious. "How can I be angry, Gan, when you're only doing what each one of us dream of? You're a good man - a good friend. You deserve all the happiness you can find. And don't worry about us being shorthanded/' he went on mischievously. "It just means that Vila is going to have to do some work for a change."
"He'll hate that!" They laughed together, sharing the joy of the occasion. Then Gan sobered, "I'm going to have to tell Vila sometime, I suppose. I'm going to miss the little guy."
"Are you so sure he won't stay here with you?" the other asked, reaching down to pick a pink blossom.
Gan looked surprised. "I hadn't thought of that. That would leave you very shorthanded, wouldn't it?"
"We'll manage, don't you worry about that. Right now, why don't we head back to the party. You've got an announcement to make, and I've got a pretty little redhead waiting to dance with me!"
***