That was said to amuse him, but his expression didn't change, remained merely attentive. Too attentive, actually. It was hard to tell if he were really interested in what she was saying, or just wanted to hear her talk. For all she knew, he could just be dissecting her words to better his grasp of her language, using her to teach him, so to speak. Or his interest could be purely on a base level, because he might be attracted to her, but that was wishful thinking on her part better left unexplored for the moment.

She got back to the resume explanations. "My middle brother, Kent, moved to this state quite a few years ago. He'd always wanted to see more of the country and figured he might as well get paid for it, so he drives the big-load trucks cross-country. Visiting him one summer convinced me to move here as well, and after accompanying Kent a few times on his longer hauls, I decided to try my own hand at it. That job only lasted about a year, though; it was just too boring for my tastes, and boring on the road can be real dangerous."

"How do you equate danger with boring?"

"As in falling asleep at the wheel."

For some reason, his blank look said even that needed an explanation for him. Brittany decided to let Coach Martha deal with that one, and she must have, since he nodded understanding after a moment.

"You did not want to do something different from your brothers?"

She grinned at him. "Why waste valuable knowledge already learned?"

She had thought about joining the military, actually, but didn't volunteer that information. She was rather well-suited for it with her size, after all, but had nixed that idea, preferring to follow her own strict regimen rather than one forced on her. And she liked building things, liked leaving her mark in such a way.

"I did finally go my own way. My youngest brother, Devon, is what you might call a born farmer. He really loves growing things. I don't. In fact, I couldn't wait to spread my wings and get away from the farm. But Devon is still there helping our father, and will probably take over after our parents pass on."

"One grows, one builds, one fixes, one transports. You have a family well-suited for trade."

"Diverse, I think you mean."

He shrugged, allowing her own interpretation. Annoyed for a moment that he wasn't going to make the effort that she had in explaining things, she almost wished she could borrow his "coach". "And the other job that ties you up?" he asked next.

"That one's a piece of cake, at the local spa in the evenings and on Saturdays. Just one person could handle it, but there's two of us, so there isn't all that much to do, other than man the desk and offer guidance when someone wants to start up a strict exercise regimen. My coworker, Lenny, and I get along pretty well, too. We have an understanding: he doesn't try to hit on me, and I won't drop weights on his feet every chance I get."

Again, that was said just to amuse him, and again, it didn't. Actually, he sat forward and said in a concise, somewhat ominous tone, "The man you share this job with hits you?"

Brittany rolled her eyes, explaining, " 'Hit on' has a completely different meaning from the 'hits you' that you're using. No, Lenny has never hit me. But he has tried a few times to get me to go out with him."

"Go out where?"

"Dating?" He wasn't the only one drawing a blank-his earphone was quiet, too. "Oh, come on, you have got to understand dating. You know, girl and guy getting together to get to know each other better."

"You speak of fun?" he said with a big grin.

It was that big grin that had her replying cautiously, "Well, sure, at least, it can be hoped a date will turn out to be fun, but that certainly isn't always the case, and some can turn out to be a real pain in the-"

She cut herself off. He was looking alarmed. And she heard the distinct sound of laughter coming out of his earphone. She gave up. She was either having her leg pulled halfway across the state, or whoever had taught him English didn't have a good grasp of it themselves.

She said, "We should probably stop at the library in the morning to get you a real English dictionary. It might take you a few weeks of studying it, but you definitely didn't learn all you should have the first time around."

"I am aware that we are having difficulty communicating, but I would not be able to read one of your books. I was taught in audio, not visual."

She sighed. "Was your teacher a complete idiot, or one of those rinky-dink language-?"

The screeching out of the earphone was seriously loud this time, causing Dalden to yank it out of his ear before it did some real damage.

Brittany raised an eyebrow at him. "Let me guess. The gal on the other end of the line there was your teacher?"

He winced, but nodded. She chuckled, adding, "Okay, I'll assume, since you're still being taught by Miss Coach, that you haven't had a full language course yet, and you're actually doing pretty well, if we go with that assumption. It's not a major problem, just time-consuming, all this explaining stuff. No biggie."

The earphone had gone silent while she spoke, prompting him to risk putting it back on. It buzzed for a moment at a normal volume. The woman Martha was obviously temperamental, but able to recover swiftly and get back to business.

He said now, "I am told that your language is more familiar to us than was first realized. Taken from the computers, the language was basic. Hearing you speak it, the similarities are becoming noticeable."

"Similarities to what? Your own language?"

"No, to the ancient language of my mother's people, which I have full understanding of. If such continues apace, and other of your words have the same meanings, I Will have the correct translations momentarily. Thus we will have no further difficulties in communicating."

"Huh?"

He held up a hand, silently asking her to wait on any further explanations. The noise coming out of his earphone now was a steady buzz, a nonstop low-volume sound like a high-speed acceleration on a tape recorder, much too fast to be understood. It was probably broken. Good. She didn't really mind explaining things to him. But she did mind third-wheel Martha continuously butting in. How were they supposed to find any time alone to get to know each other better with that ever-present eavesdropper connected to his ear?

« ^ »

"CAN THAT BE TURNED OFF?" Brittany blushed as she asked it. She shouldn't have asked. It smacked of her obvious preference to be alone with Dalden.

Yet he didn't seem to notice any ulterior motive to the question and simply answered, "Only partially can Martha be disabled. The unit can be made so she cannot, or will not, speak, but there is no way to keep her from hearing when she is already hearing."

Brittany assumed that something got lost there in the translation, because it almost sounded as if Martha had some other means out of his control for listening in on him, which conjured up an image of her apartment being bugged with a spying device, which was absurd. And she was not going to start looking under tables.

The subject went no further, though, because noises were finally heard from behind Jan's bedroom door, a bit of swearing, then the door opened and Jan stumbled groggily out, rubbing her eyes. Seeing Brittany first, she said, "I had the weirdest dream," then noticing Dalden on the coach, "okay, so maybe I didn't. Who the-"

She didn't go any further, was absorbing Dalden's looks by slow degrees, to the point that her eyes got wider and wider. If someone could be said to be drooling without actually drooling, Jan was doing it. At least, she was until Dalden pushed off of the couch to turn to face her, so he didn't have to crane his neck to look behind him.