What Judgments Come

His expression betraying nothing, Reyes replied, “I’m pretty sure I told the concierge I only wanted maid service on weekends.” He said nothing else for several seconds, the silence lingering just long enough to become awkward.

Pe

“That was sort of the point,” Reyes said, moving not the slightest muscle as he continued to regard his unexpected visitor. After a moment, his features softened. “Though I’ll admit, it’s nice to see a familiar face, even if it has to be yours.”

Anxious as to how he felt this meeting might play out, Pe

Reyes held up a hand. “Not for a while, and not anymore. That’s all behind me now.” He seemed to consider the situation for a moment before reaching the decision to resign himself to Pe

Like the exterior, the inside of the home was a blend of masonry and wood. The wall with the fireplace was composed of elaborate stone work, with decorative, irregularly shaped rock in multiple colors set into a light gray mortar. A mantel above the fireplace looked as though it might have been fashioned from the trunk of a once-mighty tree, cut into the shape of a beam and laid atop a trio of rocks jutting out from the wall at chest level. On either side of the hearth were shelves containing a few dozen books as well as assorted keepsakes, some of which Pe

“Rather cozy, I must say,” Pe

Reyes shrugged. “I like it here. It’s quiet, and nobody bothers me. Well, almost nobody.” Pausing, he stuck his hands in his pants pockets before nodding toward Pe

It took a moment for the journalist to realize that, without thinking, he had reached up again to massage the mild twinge in his shoulder. “Only aches when it rains. Or it’s cold, or damp, or any combination of the three.”

“Well, then you’re going to love it here,” Reyes replied. Pushing himself from the bar, he made his way into the kitchen. “Want a drink?”

“Whatever you’re having,” Pe

Reyes nodded. “Caldosian whiskey it is, then.” Reaching below the bar, he produced a stocky, square bottle made of green glass, and with his left hand extracted the sizable cork from the vessel’s neck. “It’s a local specialty, and better than anything you’ll find anywhere that’s not Scotland.”

“That good, eh?” Pe

“You’ll want to eat the glass when you’re finished,” Reyes said, holding up one of the tumblers and offering it to Pe

The journalist offered a nod of thanks as he accepted the drink, then held up the glass in an informal salute. “Cheers, mate.” Taking a tentative sip, Pe

“Go easy with it,” Reyes warned. “It’s an acquired taste.” With that, he downed the contents of his own glass in a single swallow before refilling both glasses. Setting the bottle back on the bar, he retrieved his glass and moved back into the main room. “How’d you find me?”

Pe

Nodding without looking away from the fire, Reyes said, “That’s the way it was supposed to be.” Using a metal poker, he shifted the quartet of smoldering logs around the elevated grate inside the firebox, stirring the embers until hints of new flame appeared from beneath the wood.

“We didn’t get a chance to say much that day,” Pe

Reyes returned the poker to a stand situated to the left of the firebox. “That was more my fault than yours, I suppose. I’ve never been big on good-byes. Besides, I was on something of a schedule. There were a lot of people who were pretty anxious to have me away from there as quickly and quietly as possible. I imagine a few of those people are still pretty pissed that I didn’t end up at the bottom of a hole somewhere.”

“True enough,” Pe

The deadpan remark was enough to elicit the first real grin from Reyes since Pe

I could get used to this.

After a moment, his right hand turning his glass in a slow circle as it sat atop his thigh, Reyes said, “Don’t take this the wrong way, Tim, but what the hell are you doing here? I know you didn’t come all this way for a drink.”

“Well,” Pe

Releasing another small laugh, Reyes sipped from his whiskey. “I’ll get right on that. Okay, out with it. What really brought you to the ass end of space? To talk to some washed-up relic nobody’s going to remember in a hundred years?”

“There are a handful of people who know the truth about what happened out there,” Pe

Reyes eyed him. “You can read about it in my memoirs. I’ve got a contract from Broht and Forester sitting on my desk. They want a juicy tell-all book for Christmas.”

Laughing at that, Pe

“I got it from one of the books Zeke gave me before I left the station,” Reyes replied, waving toward one of the shelves near the fireplace. “The first time, that is. You know, before all that fun I had with the Klingons and Orions.”

“Right, that,” Pe

“I lost the books Zeke gave me,” Reyes said, “thanks to those Orion pirates’ blowing up my prison transport.” He paused, and Pe