38: Piran
Piran
Casey was waiting when Piran returned to the office. She sat at a desk—not the one he used—and had the terminal open. Looked like some data-spread, but her eyes were glazed, so she was superimposing on her lenses.
Her eyes cleared when she looked up at him. She gave that cute, friendly smile. Wore a short-sleeved top today. Suited her.
“Hey,” she said. “You scrub up pretty well.”
He ran a hand across his now-smooth chin. “Thought it might help me concentrate. Lots to think on.”
“Glad you’re enjoying the challenge.”
He sat, rearranged his stuff. She didn’t comment on the three half-full flasks, or the extra palmies he’d pulled from the storage cabinets.
It was only when he sat back that she spoke again.
“Intriguing reports. Leave me thinking you’re keeping some
