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and spent the rest of the cycle staring at the ruby-red light over my head. It belonged to the smoke detector, and blinked on and off with machinelike patience.
The first day of my relationship with Linda Gibson had passed without much in the way of serious conversation. By the afternoon of the second day, I wanted to know more about her.
Perkins had approved our costumes, the ball was hours away, and Linda had agreed to a drink.
The Constellation Room consisted of a clear duraplast bubble accessed through a pipelike structure that connected it to the hull. The place was half full. Glasses clinked and
conversation hummed. Linda was beautiful. Stars decorated her hair, diamonds twinkled at her ears, and her perfume made my head spin. I raised my glass.  To us.
Linda smiled and did likewise.  To us.
We took a sip and placed our glasses on the table.  So, tell me about Linda Gibson. Where she s from, and where she s going. Besides Europa Station, that is.
Linda laughed.  There isn t much to tell. Mom and Dad were high-priced freelancers, the kind who get lots of work, but aren t willing to make the sacrifices required of lifers.
 Were freelancers?
A cloud passed over Linda s eyes.  They were killed when the Mundo-Tech fusion plant went critical and destroyed Caracas.
 I m sorry.
She shrugged.  Don t be. It was one of those crappy this-is-the-real-world kind of things, that s all.
I nodded.  Then what?
Her eyes went out of focus. She seemed to see through me and into another time.  I was in college. There was some money, enough to finish my degree, and I did. Then the
war started and I graduated just in time to get drafted by General Electric. I did fairly well and wound up as a captain.
I nodded respectfully.  GE has some tough troops& what outfit were you in?
Linda smiled.  Logistics& I spent the whole war using a computer to shuffle supplies from one place to another. How  bout you? How did you spend the war?
I used my drink to buy time. The wine felt cool as it trickled down my throat. How honest should I be? Semi-honest seemed best.  I was a Mishimuto Marine, or so they tell me. I
don t remember much after being hit in the head.
She smiled and gestured with her glass.  Which explains the rather unusual hairstyle.
 Exactly.
Linda leaned forward. Her cleavage made a wonderful canyon. A hand touched the side of my head. I fancied I could feel it there, warm through an eighth-inch of polished steel,
accepting the thing that kept me apart. Nothing could have meant more to me, and I was sorry when the hand was withdrawn. She nodded as if satisfied.  I like the skull plate. It makes
you look dangerous.
 You like dangerous men?
 No, Linda answered thoughtfully,  I like men who look dangerous. There s a difference.
Word games are not my strongest suit. Not with a gazillion megabytes of god knows what occupying a significant portion of my brain. I let it drop.
 So, what did the logistics expert do after the war?
One carefully plucked eyebrow rose higher than the other. She smiled.  Logistics& what else? GE liked my work and hired me as a freelancer.
 This is a business trip, then?
Linda laughed.  Of course. I could never afford this. My boss is up on A Deck, where she can hobnob with her peers. You ll meet her at the ball. How  bout you? What s an ex-
Mishimuto Marine doing on his way to Jupiter?
I delivered what I hoped was a nonchalant shrug.  I won the northwest regional lotto. Haven t had a vacation in years. Thought it would be fun.
If Linda thought the story was far-fetched, she gave no sign of it. She hoisted her glass.  To fun!
Crystal clinked as our glasses touched and the conversation turned toward less dangerous ground. Time passed, and the ball neared. We stood. I bent slightly, felt her lips
brush mine, and wallowed in her perfume. Bright blue eyes searched my face.  I ll expect you at 1945 hours. You won t be late?
 Pirates are punctual.
 Well, noblewomen aren t, but I ll do my best. Our entrance is scheduled for 2017. Perkins would be most annoyed if we missed it.
 God forbid.
I escorted Linda through the access tube and watched her walk away. And what a walk it was. I turned, and was headed for my stateroom, when Sasha appeared at my side.
She had lain in wait. Her voice was determined.  We need to talk.
 I doubt that very much.
 Your friend, if that s what she is, lied to you. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]