They passed various persons, undoubtedly hospital personnel and a few who were obviously either patients or visitors. Ronny and his rescuer passed unnoticed.
The left the building through a side entrance and again increased their pace. Minythyia hustled down a stone walk to a sports model hovercar parked in a forbidden zone, going by the signs imbedded in the street.
She vaulted over the side into the driver’s seat, snapping, “Get in! Artimis! Hurry!”
He climbed in on the passenger’s side, hardly in time to avoid being thrown aside by the vehicle’s surge forward. They were down an alley, out onto a monstrously large curving driveway, then out into a broad boulevard to be absorbed by the traffic.
Ronny noted that she was driving manually and realized why. Had she switched to the less dangerous auto, the traffic computers handling the car would have been able to pinpoint her. He didn’t know exactly what was happening, but if it was known, or came out, that Minythyia was his kidnapper from authority, then the hunt would be on in earnest.
She shot a grin over at him. “Clete didn’t know what sort of romp you tried to pull off. Only that you were marched away for questioning. Something really criminal?”
“No,” he said.
She chuckled abruptly. “It occurs to me that I’ll never have another chance like this. Listen, boy, do you think I’m attractive?”
“Yes.”
“Back on Earth. Would you have gone for someone like me?”
“Yes.
She laughed, a trifle wryly. “Would you…would you have wanted to…marry me?”
“No.”
“Ummmm. That puts me in my place.” She laughed again. “And how do you like our fair city?”
“I like it.”
They were hurrying down a main artery. Traffic was heavy, though not as badly so as many another capital city Ronny had been in in his time. As he had noted when seeking out Zeke and the Sons of Liberty, the public buildings, squares, fountains and monuments were unrivaled.
Minythyia seemed to be on something like a talking jag, brought about possibly by nervousness. Perhaps it was just coming home to her just how serious a matter her romp was.
She said, “See that building there? Apartment for bachelor girls. That’s where your pal Patricia O’Gara has been put up.” She chuckled. “She’s had to go back to school. She
She pulled off onto a side street and cut speed somewhat through necessity. The little sporthover responded to her faintest touch on the joystick like a dream of delicacy.
She swung it hard to the right again and dropped her brake lever.
“Here we are!” she chuckled. “Come on, boy.”
She vaulted from the car, bustled around to his side as though to open the door for him, but by the time she had arrived he was standing on the walk. She led the way toward a large, heavy wooden door, beautifully carved. It opened before her and they hurried through.
“We’re on the third floor,” she said. “No elevator. Elevators are masculine. Exercise is good for you. Come on, Cutey.”
They ascended the marble stairs.
At the top, she utilized a key and they passed into a moderately large apartment. Ronny looked around. It was surprisingly well done, the taste excellent. For once, the decorative motif had nothing to do with Amazons or Greeks. The murals and paintings were based on nature studies. The main room, in which they stood, was large and comfortably done with chairs, coffee tables and couches. There was what must be a small bar at one end of the room. It looked to Ronny Bronston considerably more like a bachelor’s apartment than the one that had been assigned to him in the sanctuary.
He stood in the middle of the room, waiting further instructions. Without instructions, he knew, he was free to act on his own, however, he had little doubt but that Minythyia was going to keep him well in hand so long as the Come-Along and Scop controlled him.
She approached him now, grinning mockingly. “So,” she said. “At long last. I don’t know what there is about you, Cutey, possibly the romantic aspects of you being from over-space.”
Her smile turned more mocking still and she put her right hand on his shoulder.
“I thee take,” she said softly.
IX
Even under the influence of the powerful drugs, there must have been something in his eyes. Minythyia laughed at him. But in the laughter there was a wry element.
“Of course,” she told him, “It’s not really finalized until we go before Artimis during the summer solstice, with all the others, to gain her blessing. But unless you wish to throw yourself on the mercies of some other warrior—if she’ll take you—you’re mine. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Do you wish to get in touch with some other warrior?”
His mind was free to race, in spite of its enslavement. Here, for the moment, he was moderately safe. Safe, he could hope, until the drugs wore off and he would be free to operate. If he contacted someone else—and who was there to contact?—his location would become known. Even here, when she learned the true nature of his conflict with the authorities, he doubted if her infatuation would stand up against patriotism. He was astonished that she had gone this far.
“No,” he said, in answer to her question.
Her eyes were mocking once more. “Then you’re willing to remain here with me…Cutey?”
“Yes.”
She laughed enjoyment.
“All right, here is the arrangement. This is not my apartment. It belongs to a friend. She is away and isn’t due back for almost a month. I don’t believe Clete or Lysippe or any of the others know I have access. We’re safe, especially if we never allow you to be seen on the streets. I’ll bring in what supplies we can’t get over the auto. In a month’s time, things will settle down. Things always settle down, given time. By then, we’ll be able to size up the situation and plan what to do. Married to me, you have the rights of a male Amazonian citizen. You’ll be under the protection of my
She looked at him calculatingly for a moment. “Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“If you get hungry, or thirsty, you can dial on the auto. It’s tuned to my hour account. Do you know how to do that?”
“Yes.”
“All right. Make yourself at home, here. Don’t leave the apartment, understand? Don’t leave the apartment under any circumstances.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve got several things to do. I’ve got to look up Lysippe and Clete and establish an alibi. I’ve got to ditch that car. It could be traced.” She winked at him. “Besides, it’s not mine. I
“Good heavens, sit down. Don’t wait for me to tell you everything. No, just a moment. Kiss me. The way they do on the occasional Tri-Di show tapes we get from Earth.”
He kissed her, neither the Scop nor the Come-Along influenced that.
She stood back, her eyes shining. “Well,” she said. “What would I call you on the Tri-Di? A cad? But then,
