On the wall by the desk was a small red curtain. She drew it back, revealing a videophone screen.
“Oh, the brochure said there was one in every room,” Ellis said. “I’d wondered where they’d hidden it.”
“It’s a newer model. Too bad we don’t have anyone to call.” She traced the metal frame.
There were three dials, one to adjust the picture, one for volume, and a third to key into the proper frequency for the party you intended to call. Beneath, a lacquered sign gave the frequencies for the stewards and emergencies.
“I bet this thing is tied into the overall circuitry for the airship,” Nyssa said. “You know, if we tapped into it, we could mess with all sorts of systems. They really shouldn’t give the passengers access to the wiring.”
“Most passengers aren’t prone to taking apart videophones.”
“I’m just bored, is all.” She fingered the frequency knobs. “The possibilities are intriguing though.”
“Well, try to resist taking the airship apart, and when Amara and Renard get back, we can go for a stroll on the observation deck. It’s supposed to be an experience like no other, gazing down over five hundred feet at the ocean below.”
Nyssa shuddered. “I think it would make me dizzy.”
“Oh, I forgot, you’re afraid of heights, aren’t you?” He sat up straighter. “We don’t have to go on the observation deck. It was just a thought.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s an irrational fear, and the observation deck is a safe way to confront it. No chance of actually falling. It’s good to push myself out of the comfortable on occasion.”
“I didn’t realize you ever let yourself be daunted, honestly.” He smiled.
She laughed. “Oh, I have more inhibitions than you realize.” She tapped her foot against Amara’s luggage. “It’s funny that she’s got a lock on her hat box. Who steals hats?”
Ellis shrugged. “A woman like Amara probably values her wardrobe the way you cling to your lockpicks.”
“I do like my lockpicks, but as we just proved, I don’t guard them all that closely. No one else wants them, any more than anyone wants Amara’s silly hats.” Nyssa knelt and picked up the hatbox. Something rattled within. “Doesn’t sound like a hat. I bet I could get this open.” She took out one of her smaller picks.
“Nyss, that’s not yours.” Ellis frowned.
“I’m just curious. Like you said, it’s probably clothes. What does she have to hide?”
“If she wanted you poking through it, she wouldn’t have locked it. Put it …”
The door knob squeaked. Nyssa dropped the hat box and rushed to Ellis’s side. Her heart throbbed in her throat as Amara and Renard entered the room.
Renard vaulted from Ellis’s chair the instant the door shut behind him.
“Did you speak to anyone?” Ellis asked.
“No, we stayed on the observation deck. No one was there.” Amara patted her mouth. “It was actually quite dull.”
“Well, Nyss and I are eager for some fresh air. We’ll take our turn now.”
Renard pushed the chair towards Ellis. When it stopped a foot away, he didn’t move to nudge it further.
Displeasure rippled across Ellis’s face. Nyssa scowled at Renard, rose, and positioned the chair where Ellis could access it.
Amara blushed. She shot Renard a stern look then cleared her throat. “What about Nyssa’s clothing? She really should wear what I was wearing if she’s pretending to be me. Here.” Amara walked to the other side of the room and pulled out a privacy screen. She took out a dress. “Just a moment.”
After some rustling behind the screen, Amara emerged wearing a sky-blue frock.
“Go ahead. I can help you with the buttons if you need me to.”
“Thank you.” Nyssa grudgingly had to admit Amara was being gracious, although after Renard’s treatment of Ellis, she wanted nothing more than to kick both of them out on their tailbones. She slipped behind the screen and unlaced her corset.
Amara’s red silk gown felt strange against her skin, smooth and cool, like water rather than cloth.
Sparks and shocks, I could get used to this.
“When you’re done in there, I’d like a go at your hair,” Amara called as Nyssa fussed with the buttons. “I think I can make you look half presentable.”
And goodwill squandered. Nyssa gritted her teeth. She stepped back out. “Well, here I am. All prettied up with nowhere to go.”
“My.” Amara clicked her tongue. “That is an improvement.”
Ellis gaped at her. Nyssa blushed. She turned to the full-length mirror hanging on the wall, and the warmth in her cheeks flared to a bonfire. The dress’s tight bodice stopped inches below her clavicles, not quite revealing her bosom, but close enough to make her uncomfortable about it.
“Oh, I look ridiculous,” she said.
“No!” Ellis said, a bit too emphatically.
“You look much better.” Amara stepped up, wielding a hairbrush. “Sit down and hold still.”
The brush wrenched through Nyssa’s hair. After a few minutes of painful tugging, Amara mumbled something and fetched a bottle of some perfumed liquid which she slathered all over Nyssa’s locks.
Nyssa’s jaw clenched as hair pins poked into her scalp. “This seems like a lot of trouble. Maybe I should stay in.”
“Hold up. Two more pins.” Amara jabbed one in so hard Nyssa was convinced it had drawn blood. She bolted up as Amara announced, “There, I’m done!” and stepped back.
Thank God. I could fix a videophone with less rigmarole.
Nyssa stood. Her hair felt off balance, as if it could topple off her head at any moment. She hazarded a glance in the mirror. Strands of hair twisted before her ears while a tight bun held the rest in place on top.
Amara pulled out a tube of lipstick, red as blood. “This is my favorite shade. That and this,” she held up a scarlet pillbox hat with red silk roses and a black, lacy veil, “should mask your features enough that we might pass as the same woman … from a distance, anyway.”
The lipstick glided onto Nyssa’s lips, making them heavy and slick. She resisted the
