I heard the lock behind me cycling and I turned my head and saw her appear in the light from the inner lock. She saw me, hesitated a moment, then mumbled an apology and started to leave.
“Don’t go!” I said quickly.
“I didn’t know anyone was in here,” she said. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“No, please, come in.”
She stepped over the lip of the hatch, thumbing the lock controls to close and recycle. She stood looking out of the port for a moment, then started to remove her suit. “I hate these things. They are like wearing a cardboard box.”
I watched her as she took it off and, as awkward as that procedure is, she did it with grace. I am definitely attracted to graceful women, especially when they can be graceful under disadvantageous circumstances.
She wore only a simple thin white dress that clung to her golden skin like flowing milk. She hugged herself and said, “It’s cold out here!”
“Sit here,” I said and thumbed a heater circuit. She curled into the padded couch like a cat and her lips formed a slight smile as she stared out at Earth. Her scent was delicate and something I couldn’t place.
I let the long moments pass as my eyes moved from one beautiful sight to another.
“Isn’t it exquisite?” she murmured at last.
“Yes,” I said, and meant more.
“It’s only the second time I’ve seen it, you know, I mean, for real. The first time was eight years ago when I came to Earth for school.”
“You were born on Mars, weren’t you? Someone told me.”
“Yes. At Bradbury.”
“You must be glad to rid yourself of Earth’s extra gravity.”
She smiled at me. “Oh, yes, but it made me very strong. I shall be an Amazon back home!” She laughed, softly and delicately, flipping back a wing of long black hair. “Have you been to my planet before, Mr. Braddock?” I shook my head. “Then you will not know at what to point, will you?”
I raised a fist slowly, and slowly a finger swung out from it to point at her. She laughed lightly once again, and asked, “Am I now famous?”
“You are noticed.”
Slowly, with a smile twitching at her mouth, she raised her own small fist, and staring at it instead of me, as if her hand were something apart, she slowly pointed a finger at me. Then she looked along the path of the finger and seemed astonished at what she found.
“By the sword and shield of Ares,” she said solemnly, “I do believe I have noticed someone.”
We sat there a moment with our fingers pointing at each other, then she said, “I was told it was impolite to point.” She closed her fist with a
“Nova Sunstrum,” I said.
“Diego Braddock,” she said, just as solemnly.
We watched the Earth for awhile, then I asked, “Will you be happy to be getting back?” I thought the question banal, but wanted to continue the conversation.
“Oh, yes. It has been so long, even though I got tapes on almost every ship. Mars is really growing up fast, almost too fast. There are farms now where there was only desert. An atmosphere is forming. The air of Earth seemed so heavy and thick and filled with stink. The air at home will be cold, but clean.”
She leaned back in her chair, and I couldn’t decide if the display of the richness of her body was consciously bold or innocently naive. She sighed, and the only other sounds were the faint hum from deep within the asteroid, transmitted through the rock, and the beeps and clicks of the read-outs on the repeater console before us.
