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Rowan continued to stare into space.
Xris stirred, shifted his gaze to join hers. "Give me one good reason," he said quietly, "why I shouldn't throw you out there."
She finally looked at him.
"Where do you want me to start?"
Xris waved his hand. "Oh, how about when you decided to betray us to the Hung?"
Rowan sighed. "I didn't, Xris. You have to believe me. I didn't."
Xris remained silent, was unconvinced. He finished off the twist, took out another.
"I admit I made mistakes, Xris. I know that now. I knew it then, but by the time I realized ... I should have talked to you ... I wanted to ..."
Shutting her eyes, she shivered. The spaceplane was cold and her uniform--a crisp white blouse and knife-pleated black slacks--was intended for the sheltered, temperaturecontrolled space station. Xris realized he was still dressed in the yellow coverails. He glanced around, found a downfilled jacket--Harry's, to judge by the enormous size--and tossed it to Rowan. She wrapped it around her slender shoulders, hunched into it.
"I've often wondered if it would have made any difference," she continued. "Maybe if I'd opened up to you that day of the briefing, before we left for TISor 13... met you in the bar, like I promised, talked about--" She abruptly skipped that part. "Maybe I would have been less preoccupied with myself. I might have seen the warning signs
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