HE was, more or less, the same physical age he had projected in virtuality. There were quite a few more wrinkles on his hide than his virtual self bore, but that could easily be attributed to fluid retention, also known as the bathtub effect. And his face was seamed around the edges by what by now was probably a permanent imprint of the breather mask and headset goggles he had worn. But he had the muscles, and the eyes, and the gray-tinged black hair.

The only thing she still couldn't tell if it was the same or not was his smile. He was too busy coughing from having to breathe dusty, unfiltered air and grimacing at the pale blue goo clinging to his fluid-wrinkled skin to bother. Smiles weren't on his immediate agenda.

Switching to a clean towel and rubbing at another section of his body, scrubbing off the blue goo, she waited for his coughing to ease. There wasn't much she could do to stop it, not when real air was just something his lungs would have to get used to breathing.

Besides, she thought, rubbing the age-worn fabric over his legs, he's d.a.m.nably s.e.xy in person. What red-blooded woman he's d.a.m.nably s.e.xy in person. What red-blooded woman wouldn't wouldn't want to get her hands all over a man like him? Well, presuming she doesn't mind older men. Which I don't. want to get her hands all over a man like him? Well, presuming she doesn't mind older men. Which I don't.

That thought made her smile. He might look like he was forty-seven to her twenty-seven, but according to his file, he was closer to one hundred thirty-three. That stuff he was being injected with, the anti-aging agents . . . that's an old tech we've lost. It'll be worth a fortune if it can be redeveloped. That stuff he was being injected with, the anti-aging agents . . . that's an old tech we've lost. It'll be worth a fortune if it can be redeveloped. If If we want it redeveloped. The problem is, it'd be worth a fortune we want it redeveloped. The problem is, it'd be worth a fortune and and a ma.s.sive interstellar war. a ma.s.sive interstellar war.

I'll have to warn the Raider Clan how effective the stuff is. They weren't sure if I'd be rescuing a wizened old gnome of a man or maybe just a virtual ghost running all these machines. But if it really works to slow down aging-as it seems to-and word gets out that the tech is still viable . . . well, it won't be the first time I've destroyed a bit of technology I didn't think was safe to let loose in someone else's hands. Even the Raider Clan's . . .

"Hey." His voice was rough, gravelly. Rusty with disuse, though he had undoubtedly used it in the same intermittent way his muscles had used the resistance of the fluid for a source of exercise as well as support, keeping himself more or less in shape.

"Yes?" Leo asked, curious.

"I'm waiting . . ." He gave her an expectant look. When she only returned it with a blank, noncomprehending one, Shen sighed and sagged back on the floor of the platform next to the rim of his control tank. A moment later, a strangled snort escaped him. It was followed by a second one.

Oh! She bit her lip to keep from giggling, but couldn't stop her smile as he She bit her lip to keep from giggling, but couldn't stop her smile as he snorked snorked a third time. "Don't even bother, Shen. You may have been 'asleep' for a hundred years, but you fail miserably at snoring." a third time. "Don't even bother, Shen. You may have been 'asleep' for a hundred years, but you fail miserably at snoring."

Leaning down over him, she kissed him on his lips. It was soft, sweet, and he tasted vaguely of plexi, suspension goo, and recycled air. Nor did his lips move as smoothly in reality as they had in his virtual world; he still had most of the muscles of his virtual self-projection, but he wasn't used to consciously using them in reality yet, which made his responses a bit awkward.

She wasn't going to hold any of it against him. Practice does make perfect, after all. Practice does make perfect, after all.

Shen smiled, letting his head drop gently back to the floor. "I'm free. I'm really, truly free . . . Ow."

"Ow?" she repeated, confused.

He frowned, but not at her. "I think I bruised my arm on the edge of the tank when you hauled me out. And my thigh . . . and this platform is disturbingly hard. And, as much as it pains me to admit it," Shen added, his voice still somewhat rough, "I don't think I'll be able to walk all the way out of here. I have muscles, but . . . not the memory of how to move them."

"I guessed as much. The reality-is-stranger-than-virtuality syndrome. I get that way if I spend more than eight or so hours at a time inside a virtual program, and holoprogram addicts suffer for it when they spend weeks and months in virtuality. Luckily, it's nothing that a few weeks of physical therapy won't cure. Come on, on your feet," Leo coaxed. "I found a hoverchair in the medical wing to give you a ride out to the ship, and some sheets and blankets to preserve your dignity, but that's all down on the main floor. We have a set of steps to navigate, first."

Nodding, Shen looped one arm around her shoulders, letting her reposition herself at his side. He kissed her cheek while she was shuffling into a st.u.r.dy squat. "For good luck," he told her when she glanced at him. "And as the first down payment on a thank-you. I . . . would have run out of supplies in just a few more years, if you hadn't come along." He grimaced wryly. "I also don't think I'll be ready for anything more vigorous until I've been looked at by modern medical techs. I know I'm fine in virtuality, but . . . I have no idea if, you know, everything still works in reality."

She smiled, and carefully did not look at his groin. "Then I'll just wait and take the rest of those installments after you've had some physical therapy and regained your equilibrium. Of course, the sooner we get you out to my shuttle, the sooner the Raider pilot who brought me here can fly both of us back to the Enalia System."

"These Raider Clan people had better be all that you've promised," Shen muttered.

"They will be. If not, you can take me captive and do kinky things to me in reality-feel free to do so anyway, once you're feeling better," she joked. "It was quite arousing. Now, I'll pull you to your feet on three. I can support most of your weight since I'm bred to be stronger than I look, but all that tech welded to your flesh makes you heavier than you you look. So you'll have to do some of the walking, too. We'll just take it slow and easy, since we have all the time in the world, now that you're free. look. So you'll have to do some of the walking, too. We'll just take it slow and easy, since we have all the time in the world, now that you're free.

"Ready? On one . . . two . . ."

THE first thing Leo Castanides saw when she opened the door of her home was a plexi sword. A cheap, child-sized plexi sword, as light as a datapad and no sharper along its edge than the side of a pencil. It dangled from a string hung from the ceiling of her entryway. Next to it was an equally child-sized shield, both of them painted in fake silver and gold.

After a long day of cataloguing yet another fraction of the tech they had literally stripped out of the Borgite Project stronghold, leaving nothing behind but bare concrete walls, unlocked doors, and a note painted on a couple walls to contact the Raider Clan in the Enalia System if anyone had any further inquiries . . . a cheap toy sword and shield were not what she'd expected to see.

Pushing her tricorn hat back on her head-she loved her Minutemaid hat, even though she was firmly an Enalian citizen these days-Leo reached up and plucked the sword and shield free. The strings were easily snapped, being little more than threads. Beyond them, she saw more threads holding up more objects. Long strips of crepe and tissue paper, crudely colored in shades of brown and green and scribbled with crude approximations of leaves and thorns.

Comprehension dawned.

Grinning, Leo adjusted her hat firmly on her head, gripped the shield in her left hand and the sword in her right, and "hacked" her way through the makeshift walls of mock briar thorns. As suspected, the display of suspended barriers led through the living room, past the door to the kitchen, and down the back hall to the bedroom. Her Her bedroom, not his. Another telling point in this mock dramatization. bedroom, not his. Another telling point in this mock dramatization.

Batting aside a last bit of paper vine, she pushed the b.u.t.ton for her bedroom door. It slid back quietly, revealing a brand-new, archaic-styled canopy bed in place of her older, simpler one. A bigger bed, she noted. A bed occupied by the rec.u.mbent form of a middle-aged man.

Three things caught her attention in the glow of the setting sun visible beyond the gauzy bedroom curtains; two of them had grown familiar over the last six weeks since his rescue. His gray-streaked black hair was somewhat longer than it had been, though still quite short by local fashion standards. His calves, thighs, forearms, and biceps were banded with fading scars where the old metal bands used to reside; more body-friendly organic transceiver nodes had been transplanted in their place, similar to the ones in her own limbs, which boosted her electrokinetic abilities.

And he was quite, quite naked, with not a trace of pale blue goo, bathtub wrinkles, or metal implants to be found. That was a new twist on the man she had come to know and love.

The warmth of the Enalian summer night at the lat.i.tude where they lived was enough to keep him comfortable as he rested on what should have been her original bed. The fact that it wasn't her bed anymore didn't upset her. Rather the opposite. In fact, the mere thought of all this effort on his part was doing a very good job of arousing her.

If he's in here here, re-creating how we first met, that means he's finally been given the all-clear by his therapists for lovemaking. Good! Excellent, in fact.

Stepping quietly into the bedroom, Leo poked the toy sword at the controls, shutting the door. She set her weapon and shield on top of her dresser, then removed her hat and hung it on its wall hook by the door frame. Another glance at the bed showed what could have been a flickering eyelid, but she couldn't be sure.

Leo toed off her cuffed, ankle-length boots and untied the laces of her vest as she stepped out of them. It looked like his eyelids flickered again at the soft flump flump of the leather hitting the floor, but otherwise he didn't respond. He also didn't try to fake a snore while she finished approaching the new bed, for which she was grateful. As much as she was pleased he was ready and willing to take this next step with her, she didn't think giggling would be appropriate. of the leather hitting the floor, but otherwise he didn't respond. He also didn't try to fake a snore while she finished approaching the new bed, for which she was grateful. As much as she was pleased he was ready and willing to take this next step with her, she didn't think giggling would be appropriate. Not after all the trouble he'd gone to, creating that fake paper briar patch and finding those silly toys . . . Not after all the trouble he'd gone to, creating that fake paper briar patch and finding those silly toys . . .

It was really quite sweet of him. Loosening the ties at her wrists and throat, she sank onto the side of the bed. This close, she could see a faint shiver cross his skin at her proximity, and the tightening of his dusky nipples. Not to mention the slight twitch of his not quite flaccid shaft. A lift of her hand and a bit of concentration was all it took to tap into his organic transceivers. Shivers rippled across his muscles as she dusted his limbs with phantom caresses. With her hand ghosting several centimeters above his skin, she touched him with just her mind, preparing him for the reality ahead.

A glance at his face showed his eyes still shut, but his lower lip was caught in his teeth. A second glance at his loins showed his flesh thickening in tiny but visible jerks, tied to the blood pumping in time with the beating of his heart. Not wanting to torment him too much, she lowered her hand to the bed on his far side, leaned down over that handsome pair of lips, and kissed him.

This time, he tasted of mouthwash and man. This time, his lips parted and pressed with a lot more skill. This time, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders to pull her down closer, rather than lift himself higher. Satisfied that he was very much awake and willing, Leo kissed him hungrily.

Shen returned it greedily, until kissing wasn't enough. Impatient fingers tugged at her shirt, pulling it up over her head. That broke their kiss, since she was forced to detangle herself from the fabric. As soon as he flung her top to the floor, he cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in his palms. The skill he used to rub and stimulate her nipples with his thumbs surprised her a little, until she remembered just how many of those entertainment files had included romantic interludes in their programming. Grinning, Leo pushed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s into his hands, encouraging him.

The sight of his eyelids still shut made her frown a moment later. She could have sworn she'd kissed him thoroughly enough to wake him. A glance at his loins showed his shaft arcing up over his lower abdomen in an inviting curve the length of her hand. Well, if kissing him on the Well, if kissing him on the lips lips doesn't open his eyes . . . doesn't open his eyes . . .

Shifting free of his grasp, she bent over his hips and bestowed a tender kiss on the turgid tip of his shaft. His sharp inhale made her slant her gaze at his face. Grinning at the sight of his blinking brown eyes, she licked around the little head and sucked him deep into her mouth.

That snapped his eyes wide. Body tense, hands clutching at her head, Shen arched into her bobbing, inhaling, enthusiastic nether-kiss. He groaned when she swirled her tongue, and choked out her name when she rapidly flicked his tip. "Leo!"

Leo released him with a chuckle. He groaned again, this time in disappointment, but she avoided his hands. Rather than letting him drag her back down, she moved off the bed completely and unfastened her pants.

Pushing up onto one elbow, Shen watched her strip off the last of her clothes. Moving his other hand to his groin, he caressed himself lightly as she peeled off her socks and underwear. To Leo, the sight of him touching himself was erotic. So was the way he reached up and circled one finger around her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, then slid it down between her thighs, boldly proclaiming his right to touch her flesh. Head tipping back, eyes drifting shut, Leo rocked into his gentle, stimulating strokes.

A moment later her own eyes snapped open from the sudden spark of energy crawling like tiny nibbling mouths across her skin. His wicked grin told her she wasn't the only one capable of invading a fellow electrokinetic's transceiver nodes for pleasurable stimulation. Probing deep with two fingers, he hooked them in her body and gently tugged her close, sitting up so that he could meet her approaching b.r.e.a.s.t.s with hungry, l.u.s.tful nips from his real mouth, letting the phantom ones he was projecting electrokinetically caress other, more peripheral parts.

Clutching his shoulders, Leo caressed his skin, then pushed him down. He murmured a protest, clinging to her with his free arm and lips, his right hand still occupied with a very skillful exploration of her flesh. Still, she persisted until he was lying on his back again, though it meant she half-straddled him in his wordless, insistent demand to keep her close.

A few moments later found him pressing her her onto her back, when all she did was shift so they could continue their kiss. Complying, Leo groaned; his suckling kisses wandered from her mouth to her throat, turning into teasing nips. The controlled sc.r.a.pe of his teeth was undeniably erotic, but also a little alarming. She gasped, startled, when he bit and suckled at the same time, accompanying the act with a deep growl. onto her back, when all she did was shift so they could continue their kiss. Complying, Leo groaned; his suckling kisses wandered from her mouth to her throat, turning into teasing nips. The controlled sc.r.a.pe of his teeth was undeniably erotic, but also a little alarming. She gasped, startled, when he bit and suckled at the same time, accompanying the act with a deep growl.

"Easy!" she hissed, alarmed by his increasingly feral touch. He released her flesh with a wet pop pop, peering up at her. She smiled wryly at him. "Hey. I thought this was supposed to be the tale of Sleeping Beauty, not Beauty and the Beast."

He grinned and licked her breast. "We can always explore that one later . . . but you're right. Ours is definitely a Sleeping Beauty story."

"Good. Now . . . having rescued the handsome, slumbering prince," Leo purred, coaxing him higher on her body with a gentle caress of her finger under his jaw, "I would like to claim my reward."

Shifting a little higher, settling between her thighs as she parted them, Shen braced his elbows on the bed to either side. "Anything I have is now yours."

"Good." She smiled. "I want it all." To make sure he got at least some of her point, she shifted her hips, lifting her knees so she could tip her pelvis into his.

His brown eyes darkened and he flexed his own hips, sliding his shaft against her damp flesh. "All of me?"

She shuddered, enjoying his firm, gliding touch. "All of you." of you."

Shen stilled. Despite the now dim glow from the tail end of sunset outside, she could see the teasing look in his eyes fade, replaced by something much more serious.

"Is that . . . a proposal?" he asked.

Leo stilled as well, holding her breath as she thought about it. Thought about him. Shen. A man who looked twice her age and had lived five times it, though not as freely as she had. A man who was bright, caring, and completely one of a kind. Her kind.

She didn't stop the smile that spread her lips. "Shen Codah, will you marry me?"

Emotion gleamed in his eyes. Cupping her head, Shen captured her mouth; he devoured her with a deep kiss, his hips moving in time with his tongue, rubbing himself sensually against her.

Enjoying the gliding tease of his erection, it didn't take long for her to grow impatient for more. Squirming a little, she reached between them, capturing his shaft with her hand. He groaned into her mouth, then shifted, helping her find the right angle to prod him into her depths. That made both of them groan, and he bucked a little, sinking deeper.

Leo sucked in another breath at the sting of being stretched; it had been a while since her last lover. But it was the pain on her new lover's face that concerned her. The lines deepened on Shen's brow as he grimaced, making her wonder if this attempt at intimacy was too soon in his recovery. Teeth bared, he pushed a little deeper, muscles straining in what looked like an internal war between forging forward and holding back.

"I . . . I can't . . ." His abdomen spasmed, followed by the rest of his body. Driving deep, he nipped and licked at her mouth, her throat, her shoulder, sucking strongly on the skin at the base of her neck. He took her roughly, fiercely, claiming everything she had just given him, rocking the bed until the canopy fringe swayed.

For a moment, it seemed inevitable that he would leave her behind, his pa.s.sion had boiled over so fast, so furiously. Leo didn't care; even without those half-lost rejuvenation medicines, the physicians who had examined him after his rescue had promised both of them that he still had a good sixty or more years left to live. He could make it up to her another time; right now, she just wanted to give him as much pleasure as he could stand, because he deserved it. Reopening her transceivers, Leo caressed him electrokinetically.

Tearing his mouth from her throat, Shen gasped. "Stars! Oh, yes-let me in!"

Guessing what he meant, she pulled down her inner walls, the part of her that guarded her against intrusion, whether from a random electromagnetic fluctuation or from another soul with Psian genetic engineering in his veins. To Shen, she opened herself up-and bucked herself as raw sensation flooded her nerves.

For a moment, he and she were one; his l.u.s.t, his pa.s.sion, his love were now hers. She was him, hard and aching, driving into soft, clinging heat over and over again. He was her, wet with acceptance, clenching around him with need. Pa.s.sion crested, climaxed, crescendoed in an actual, physical spark between their bodies, flaring blue white in the indigo darkness of the bedroom. If that spark sizzled, neither of them heard; her cries mixed too strongly with his groans, accompanied by the wooden creaking of the old-fashioned, canopy-draped bed.

He didn't collapse on her, so much as slump slowly by degrees. Clinging to him, her own mouth nibbling on his throat, Leo accepted his weight. Without all the c.u.mbersome metallic implants, he wasn't as heavy as when she had rescued him. He was solid, pinning her to their new bed as surely as if she were still bound by his virtual programming, but not a burden. Of any kind.

For a moment, she let memory color her perceptions in electrokinetic detail, conjuring up a virtual replica of that room in Sleeping Beauty's castle. Shen grunted and shook his head, dispelling the shared vision.

"No," he ordered gruffly, lifting some of his weight back onto one elbow. "No more dreams. No more programs. I want nothing but reality with you."

Sighing, Leo nodded. "All right . . . but that does mean actually getting up and trying to find something suitable with which to tie me to the bed."

Shen groaned, dropping his forehead to hers. Physically, he was still soft with satisfaction, but she could feel the mental undercurrents of his reaction to her suggestion. They were still linked electrokinetically, still sharing their arousal, and more. Reaching up and out with her mind, since her arms were occupied in the important task of holding him, she sparked the bedside lamp to life.

The sideways glow highlighted the silver strands at his temple and the wrinkles at the corner of his eye. Leo shifted her left hand from the sweat-damp skin of his back. Cupping his cheek, she guided his mouth down to hers for a gentle, loving kiss. She didn't quite invoke true virtuality between them, but she did link and share her pleasure. Shen accepted it, as he accepted her into the inner sanctum of his mind . . .

A long while later, Leo woke from a vivid, disjointed dream of roving hands and roaming lips to find it wasn't a dream. Her lover was was caressing her, kissing her in the dim gray light of dawn. Smiling sleepily, she wrapped her arms around him and returned the favor, tangling her tongue happily with his. caressing her, kissing her in the dim gray light of dawn. Smiling sleepily, she wrapped her arms around him and returned the favor, tangling her tongue happily with his.

It didn't actually matter which one of them was the other's Prince or Princess Charming. It only mattered that they were both awake.

Beauty and the Beast.

Author's Note: When we were discussing a list of stories for this anthology, my editor requested that I write a version of this particular one, as it happens to be her favorite fairy tale. Since a lot of these stories have been popularized by various movie and television production companies-along with a particularly fine novelization by fellow author Robin McKinley-I worked hard to find a new twist of my own. In the end, I decided to take it completely out of the fantasy genre and tuck it into science fiction. Cindy, this tale is dedicated to you. When we were discussing a list of stories for this anthology, my editor requested that I write a version of this particular one, as it happens to be her favorite fairy tale. Since a lot of these stories have been popularized by various movie and television production companies-along with a particularly fine novelization by fellow author Robin McKinley-I worked hard to find a new twist of my own. In the end, I decided to take it completely out of the fantasy genre and tuck it into science fiction. Cindy, this tale is dedicated to you.

HAND snapping up and out with the same speed he would have used to break a neck or crush a skull, Viktor snagged the rose being thrown his way. The only damage he did to its stem, however, was a slight nick from one of his claws. There were other flowers he could have plucked, for there were literally hundreds being tossed his way-enough to make more than one of his fellow Haguaro sneeze from their thick floral scents-but roses were special to him.

Roses were his link to his humanity.

Lifting the bloom to his muzzle, he inhaled deeply, savoring its sweet, rich perfume. Except, there was more to the smell of this rose than mere perfume. Something Something wafted up from the flower in his hand. Something that p.r.i.c.ked at all of his senses, fluffing the fur along his neck and arms. Something that made his tail want to lash, something that made his ears flick up and strain, despite the tumult of noise from the cheering crowd tossing yet more flowers around him. wafted up from the flower in his hand. Something that p.r.i.c.ked at all of his senses, fluffing the fur along his neck and arms. Something that made his tail want to lash, something that made his ears flick up and strain, despite the tumult of noise from the cheering crowd tossing yet more flowers around him.

Burying his muzzle against the deep pink flower, he sniffed his way first along the petals, then down to the stem. There lay the strongest traces of that mysterious scent, down where its former owner's fingers had cut the bloom from its bush, snapped off its thorns, and handled it for untold minutes while waiting for this parade before tossing it into his hand.

A feminine hand had wielded this bloom, but not just a feminine one. Something more basic than that. So basic, it struck his senses like a blunt weapon.

Female.

One moment, he was seated sedately among his fellow Haguaro Gengin on the parade float, accepting their accolades once again as the saviors of the small, enemy-beset nation of Sullipin. The next, he launched instinctively into the crowd. The Normals scattered, startled by his sudden movement; men, women, and children, they shrank back with wide, wary eyes. Not fearful, thankfully, just startled, but Viktor couldn't think about that. He couldn't think about anything, but stretched up on his hind legs, sniffing the upper currents of air and trying to calculate the point in the capital city's parade route from which the flower in his grip had been tossed.

There! Dodging around a knot of staring men, he approached the spot he had matched up in his memory with the trajectory of his rose. It had to be one of the five or six women edging back from him, all but leaning against the plexi windows of a bakery. The warm, yeasty scent of freshly baked bread and spicy-sweet sticky buns couldn't mask the scent of Dodging around a knot of staring men, he approached the spot he had matched up in his memory with the trajectory of his rose. It had to be one of the five or six women edging back from him, all but leaning against the plexi windows of a bakery. The warm, yeasty scent of freshly baked bread and spicy-sweet sticky buns couldn't mask the scent of her her, however.

Her. That heady scent of pure, intoxicating That heady scent of pure, intoxicating female female came from came from her her. Viktor stalked toward her, sniffing the air to be absolutely sure. The smell of her was too important to pick the wrong woman; he had to be sure the redhead with the wide blue green eyes was his rightful- A body interposed itself between him and his . . . well, she wasn't his prey prey, per se, but she was was his, somehow. The blocking figure was an older man, his dark hair salted heavily with iron gray. He smelled somewhat like her, some sort of relative, but he also smelled of a mix of courage and fear. The scent of a confrontation. his, somehow. The blocking figure was an older man, his dark hair salted heavily with iron gray. He smelled somewhat like her, some sort of relative, but he also smelled of a mix of courage and fear. The scent of a confrontation.

"What . . . what do you want? the man demanded, lifting his chin a little.

Lifting up again on his hind legs, towering over the older man, Viktor sniffed at the air around the redheaded woman. It was definitely the redhead, no mistake. He pointed at her, his hand still holding her flower. "Her."

The gray-haired man spluttered. "My . . . . . . my daughter? Well . . . you can't have her! We're free citizens! We haven't done anything wrong!" my daughter? Well . . . you can't have her! We're free citizens! We haven't done anything wrong!"

A hand touched his arm. Viktor glanced at its owner. Keisia Blood-thunder blinked her cat green eyes at him and murmured, "Viktor, what are you doing?" Her ears flicked down and back, and she snuck a look at the other Normals around them. "Why have you stopped the parade? What have they done?"

The slight breeze wafting through the city shifted, bringing his fellow Haguaro's scent to his nose. It didn't completely diminish her her smell, but it did reduce some of its impact on his instincts. Enough that Viktor felt embarra.s.sed by his wildly impulsive actions. "Nothing . . . they've done nothing." smell, but it did reduce some of its impact on his instincts. Enough that Viktor felt embarra.s.sed by his wildly impulsive actions. "Nothing . . . they've done nothing."

"Come back to the float," Keisia murmured, patting his arm. "Let the Normals see how nice we are."

He knew she was right, but he couldn't quite leave things at that. Turning his attention back to her her, he lifted his chin a little. "What is your name?"

The man between them lifted his own chin. "I am G.o.do Chavell, and this is my daughter, Raisa. What do you want with her?"

Raisa . . . how appropriate. Briefly satisfied with that much information about her-which would hopefully be enough-Viktor lifted the flower again. "Thank you for the rose, Raisa. It is . . . very very beautiful." beautiful."

She smiled tentatively at him, making his chest swell at the sight. She had a beautiful smile, with a hint of a dimple on one side. Remembering his manners, Viktor bowed to both of them and turned away, following Keisia back to the float. Leaping back up onto the flower-piled transport, he ignored the curious looks from the other Gengins, focusing instead upon the flower still caught in his hand.

Raisa Chavell. Raisa. Ancient Russian for "rose" . . .

My Rose.