Intolerance, Part 8: Trance's compromise.

"Is this really necessary?" asked a blindfolded Dylan as he was led along the corridor. Rommie giggled, "What can I say: I just like having you at my mercy."

They finally reached the observation deck, and Rommie took the blindfold off. Dylan gasped: under the tree sat a tent, and a fire burned invitingly, "What's all this for?" Rommie hugged his arm, "Well, I had been hopping to arrange some time alone with you on New Salem, but that went up in smoke the moment Minister Cain told us about the anti-AI movement. This was Trance's compromise."

Dylan looked down at her, "But we have duty-shifts." Rommie shook her head, "Not for the next two days we don't. I've arranged it with the others, and their going to cover for us. Andromeda can do without me for that long, and you need time to get over that nasty shock you had." With that, she led him over to the fire. Dylan looked around: there was everything they would need for two days, "But how can we justify this?" Rommie put her arms around him, "Well, you've been working very hard, and need some time off. You once told me I needed to relax and go with the music." With that, the air was filled with the sound of a band playing a slow waltz.

Rommie smiled as Dylan recognised the music, "This is what the band was playing when I asked you to dance at the FTA dinner!" Rommie took his hands, "Shall we?" Dylan smiled, taking her in his arms "We shall."

They began to dance slowly in the firelight as the stars drifted-by outside.

The End