considering it. “Yes,” she said finally, “I am.” Then she giggled, not at all girlishly.
“You have the duty?” I asked suddenly aware of the time, place, and circumstance.
She shook her head. “Not until tonight, but I’ve got an officers’ briefing at 09:30 I need to back aboard for. What about you?”
“My off-day. Clear until 18:00.”
She finished toweling off and draped the wet towel on a chair. She stretched as unselfconsciously as a cat, arching her back and rolling her shoulders. I could see her eyes catch sight of my jacket hanging in the open closet. She padded over to it and stroked the corduroy as if patting some animal. She looked at me with a raised eyebrow and asked, “May I?”
I propped myself up on my elbows. “Sure,” I said, amused by her fetish for Roubaille.
She slipped it off its hanger and slid it around her naked torso. I was surprised to see that it was a bit large on her. She had seemed, somehow, bigger. She pulled it tightly around her and I felt myself wishing I were that jacket, so she had wrap me around her naked body like that. Then I remembered that she had—just a couple of stans before.
“What are you grinning at?” she asked.
“What are you grinning at?” I returned.
“This coat feels amazing against my skin.”
“You’ll pardon my saying so, but it looks amazing against your skin,” I told her.
“Oh?” she purred. “You like this look?”
“Um,” I said with a considering tone. “I don’t know. Could you walk over there and back for me once, just so I can get the full effect?”
She giggled in the back of her throat and sashayed across the room. The coat was not long enough, even on her, to cover completely. The glimpses as she walked away were as stimulating as when she started back. I was absorbed in the view.
“It seems as though you do like the look,” she said. She let the coat fall open as she walked. She did not stop at the edge of the bed but crawled on her hands and knees until she was right on top of me—hands planted in the pillows on either side of my head and knees straddling my hips. She lowered her torso until her breasts just touched my skin and her lips were less than a centimeter from mine. “Yes,” she breathed, with an experimental rolling of her hips. “You do like this look. I can tell.”
“Yes,” I gasped as she lowered herself onto me. “I think it’s a very good look for you.”
Sometime later, I said, “I think you’re going to need another shower now.”
She giggled into the side of my neck. “I was just thinking that you’re going to have to have the coat cleaned,” she said breathlessly. “What have you got in the pocket?” she asked sitting up on me.
“My tablet?” I asked.
“No, this pocket.”
“Do you know what a whelkie is?” I asked.
“Yeah, some kind of a St. Cloud spirit guide. The shaman on the south coast carve them. You have a whelkie?”
“It was a gift.”
“Somebody gave you a whelkie?”
“Yup.”
“Can I see it?”
“Help yourself.”
She reached into the pocket and slid out the dolphin. “Oh,” she said.
“Stop squirming,” I said, “or you’re going to have to go around again.”
She ground her hips into me with a fierce look, “Quiet, you! I’m admiring. This is spectacular. I’ve seen a couple, but nothing like this.” She ran a finger tip along the dorsal fin and impulsively kissed it before putting it back in the pocket. “You’re just full of surprises, Ishmael Wang.” She caught sight of the time. “But we have to get moving. I want some breakfast before I have to put my Second Mate cap back on.”
“I hope you’re going to put on a shipsuit, too.”
She laughed and lifted herself off me with a small sigh. Well, at least one of us gave a small sigh. I am not really sure which one of us it was. She clambered off the bed and stripped my coat from her shoulders, laying it across the covers. “You,” she said pointing at me as I watched the light slip over her naked skin. “Stop admiring me and call for breakfast—coffee, eggs, sausage, and potatoes—enough for three people. Order something for yourself, as well.” She turned and strode back to the head and I could not bear not to watch her go.
“Now, spacer!” she yelled from the other room.
I laughed and got on the comm.
Around 08:00 we stepped off the lift on the dock level. She had checked out of the room and had a duffel over her shoulder. “Work this afternoon, duty tonight, underway tomorrow,” she shrugged helplessly.
“Thanks,” I said.
“For what?”
“Just thanks. See ya round the docks, maybe.”
She growled, wrapped a fist in my shirt, and backed me up against the bulkhead. When she let me go, I felt thoroughly kissed. Several of the passersby seemed to think so, judging from their stares. I hoped she did, too. We did not say goodbye. She waved and headed to the
The docks were really chilly and I tightened my coat around me. I could smell her on it. I wondered if I could get it cleaned—not physically but whether I could voluntarily give up that scent. “You’re being stupid,” I told myself. I agreed with me, but sometimes being right does not help one bit.
I keyed my way into the lock and signed aboard. Sandy Belterson had the duty. “Welcome home, Ish.”
“Thanks, Sandy. Anything shaking?”
“Well, you’re the talk of the ship. Again.”
“Which part?” I asked.
“Where should I begin?”
“Great gods! How bad is it?”
“No, no,” she said with a smile. “It’s all good.”
“Okay, just the highlights?”
“Chez Henri?”
“Old news. Days ago.”
“You trashed Murdock?”
“Well, not trashed. I just didn’t find her that interesting.”
“Brill spewed beer—twice?”
“Just once. First time was a near miss.”
“You danced with Alvarez?”
“True.”
“The last time anybody saw you, Alvarez was dragging you out of Jump!”
“False.”
“False?”
“I went willingly.”
“Al offered to take you home?”
“You do have good sources!”
She looked at me sympathetically. “It’s hard, though, isn’t it?” she said softly.
I shrugged. “Yeah. It’s just one of the things you need to get used to if you’re gonna be a spacer, eh?”
