Sunlight shining through holes in the leather covering over the window woke Jak early the next morning. For a moment, he wondered why he was sleeping on the floor instead of on his bed. A glance to his right showed him the Terran woman sprawled on his cot, and the entire miserable evening came back to him. With a muffled groan, he sat up and massaged his aching back. Beside him, Kamura who tossed as if caught in a bad dream. When he put his hand to her forehead, she felt feverish to his touch. Beads of sweat formed on her face and ran into her long, dark hair. That definitely wasn’t good.
His place was so small that he didn’t even need to stand up to reach the room’s only cupboard and pull out a plastic jug of water. He poured a little into an earthenware bowl, and then dipped the cleanest remaining piece of Kamura’s dress into the cool water and bathed her face. Washing the dried blood away revealed still more bruising and swelling. She’d kicked away the cloak that he’d covered her with during the night, and now lay half on top of it. Jak tried to be careful of her broken arm as he tugged it free and tried to cover her. He couldn’t help but notice the navel ring she wore, a neat circle of gold set with a small emerald that sparkled against the coffee-colored skin of her stomach.
Carefully, Jak removed the navel ring and set it aside. He’d trade it at the market for credits to buy food and meds. He tucked the fabric of his winter cloak around the sleeping woman and sighed. Kamura was beautiful, naked, and in his bed, and he felt no more for her than he might feel for a sculpture of the Lady Ur. There was only one woman he wanted, and he might have put her into even more danger by helping this Terran.
When it looked as if she were about to wake, Jak peeled back the seal on his one remaining a container of soup. It was lukewarm, but it was the closest thing to food he had. Kamura opened her eyes—or one eye, at least. The left one was swollen shut. Jak sat cross-legged on the floor next to her as he poured the soup from its package into his only cup. She stared at him for a long, vacant moment and then gazed around the room as if she’d never seen anything like it. No doubt, the plaster walls, floor made of cheap recycled plastic slabs, and plain cupboard cobbled together from scrap weren’t the sort of accommodations to which she was accustomed. In the merciless morning light, every crack, chip, and stain showed.
Jak sat quietly, waiting for the woman to gather her wits.