13 Serina - This is Lieutenant Tsgerr of the Imperial marines (1/2)

I'd spent the morning with Terry from the local embassy. Terry was head of security and fascinated with my ability to wrap him around my little finger and leave him on the mat, tied in a pretzel. ”Serina? Show me how . . .” was the way most conversations with Terry started. He had become a good friend and sometimes joined me on my morning swim.

This morning we just played around in the surf rather than serious swimming. I had noticed a man, who looked familiar to me. A stunning woman was massaging some sunscreen onto his back. Finally, I recognized Michelle from the embassy. I hadn't seen her for several weeks. There was something different about her, a strange radiance and a self-please, self-confident air about her. Also, she looked entirely different than when dressed in her Gi. I could get a complex if I had to stay around her very long. From the outraged stares some women were giving their men, most of who were staring, I was not the only one to think so.

I thought the young man was lucky to get her, because from what I could see he was a 'hunk.' I kept finding excuses to stay near, and I think Terry was starting to catch on. I had walked past several times while he was rubbing sunscreen on her. However, he seemed too preoccupied to notice me. Not that I could blame him, the jerk, after all, Michelle was indeed something.

Frustrated, I swam for a while with Terry, then came back to check on him. He noticed me, just as I emerged from the water; his reaction was everything I could have wished for…. I bathed in his gaze as I slowly walked toward him. I was right—he was beautiful—I don't know why, but I had to know him better. As I walked toward him, his eyes traveled up my body—drinking in every curve, I reveled in the touch of his gaze. I felt his gaze lingering on my face when suddenly his eyes changed—to a look of recognition? I locked eyes with him and walked over and stood square in front of him, arching an eyebrow in question.

”Pardon me,” he said, his eyes dropping, ”I had thought you were someone that I once knew.”

”Serina,” Terry said, ”let me introduce you to Lawrence Young, the embassy's new Senior Secretary. Mr. Young, this is Lieutenant T'gerr of the Imperial Marines.”

I felt rather than saw the conflict in him—then he smiled at me, ”My friends call me Larry.”

I smiled back, ”Mine, call me Serina. I have the strangest feeling that I've met you before. You said that you thought you knew me?”

”Well sort of, several years ago I was on the beach in the southern section of Los Angeles, on Terra, and I saw a young lady who could have been your twin . . . including your bikini.”

I thought back, and suddenly I pulled the picture out of my photographic memory, ”Yes! I do remember you. I remember—because I saw you snorkeling, the time you lost your snorkel—and surfaced, blowing like a whale breaching! Oh! By the way, this is the same swimsuit!” I laughed, thinking of how hard I'd tried to get his attention that day on the beach so long ago. He had been preoccupied with a titanic inner struggle then, and I had felt that he had never really seen me, but he had, and he had remembered me after all these years.

Larry blushed and said, ”That was me, all right.”

I dropped to the sand, wondering how I could get rid of Terry and how I could compete with Michelle. I said to Larry, (No. Lance, he felt like a Lance to me . . . My Lance.) ”Looks like we must have been neighbors.” I turned to look at Terry, ”Terry, I'll see you tonight, at class, won't I?” I said, hoping he would take the hint.