end of the passenger quarters would be in sight. If she was thinking of changing her mind, better do it now.
They came to the lettered bulkhead. Paul slid the hatch open and ushered Jan through. Instead of heading aft down the corridor with its bilious green paint, Paul made a sharp left turn. At the second door along he paused. “It’s not up to the captain’s quarters, but it’s home to me. Welcome.”
Jan found herself in a room maybe twice the size of hers. It had been furnished with a surprising delicacy of taste. The chairs were light and frail in appearance, suitable for a ship where acceleration would rarely exceed half a gee, but their lines were elegant. The walls had been finished in a pastel pink (which Jan actually didn’t much care for) and two of them bore half a dozen paintings which she suspected were originals. That was confirmed when she saw a neat P. Marudini in the lower right corner. She glanced at him, and he shrugged. “I was young when I started to paint. I thought Marudini sounded a bit more like an artist. Now it’s too late to change.”
He was over by a small table in one corner, opening two conical bottles each of which wore a misting of condensation. Next to them was a vase of roses. The lighting level in the room was dimmer than in the rest of the ship.
Jan said, half question and half statement, “You were expecting that I would come here with you.”
He coughed. “Weil, no. Let’s say that before dinner I was hoping. But then I learned that we were at different tables and I couldn’t do anything to change that, so we wouldn’t have much chance to talk. I’m sorry. I must have seemed a bit abrupt.”
“I didn’t think so.” Jan accepted one of the bottles. She had learned to drink in micro-gravity, but a delicate trial sip was beyond her. She squeezed too much into her mouth and had to swallow hard.
“All right?” Paul asked.
“Just choking. The wine is very good. Like an Earth wine.”
“As it should be. It was made in southern Chile — not too far from where you lived.”
So he knew where she had come from on Earth. Paul had done his homework.
“The roses, too?”
He nodded. “From Punta Arenas. Flower city.” He took a sip from his own squeeze bottle, savoring the aftertaste and looking thoughtful. “I guess everything went well with Dr. Bloom?”
“You spoke with her?”
“No. I saw your face. You were the cat that got the parakeet.”
“That would have been difficult on board the Achilles.”
“Quite right.” He took a bigger mouthful. “No pets allowed.”
“Like passengers beyond the bulkhead.”
The conversation was casual, but underneath it ran a strong current of sexual tension. Jan noticed that there was no bed in the room. What would happen if things developed as she expected? Fun and games in free-fall? She felt nervous but determined.
“But you never answered my question,” Paul went on. “Did everything work out as you hoped with Dr. Bloom? You know, it’s quite unusual for her to want a second meeting with someone after they leave Earth orbit.”
“Things went very well.” Jan wondered how to phrase it. “I was really worried beforehand, but I had no reason to be. That’s why I feel so good. It’s as though I just gave birth.”
“Gave birth? To what?”
“To who. To a thirty-five-year-old. All my life I’ve been looking after Sebastian and making decisions for him. Dr. Bloom told me to stop. It will be hard, but I have to take her advice. For his sake.”
Paul lowered his head and did not look at her. “I wouldn’t normally say this to any passenger, but I feel close to you and you need to know. There’s a lot of talk aboard about Sebastian Birch. For one thing, people say he’s either retarded or has serious mental problems.”
“I know. Neither one is true. Sebastian is strange, but Dr. Bloom says that he has talents she has never encountered before. She Wants to spend a lot of time with him. And she wants me to spend less.”
“That’s what you meant by giving birth. You had me worried for a second.”
He was inviting her to ask why. Instead, Jan held the conical bottle out toward Paul and squeezed it. “All gone. I’ve been gulping too fast, but sipping is difficult.”
“Would you like more?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, then.” He released his own bottle, leaving it suspended in midair. After a few moments of hesitation, during which Jan felt that she herself was in total suspension, he moved to her side and put his arms around her. His first kiss seemed tentative. Jan responded much more forcefully, and when they came up for air he said, “First time in micro-gravity?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a bit different. Just follow my lead.” Between kisses he began to remove her clothes, slowly and carefully. She did the same for him, glancing occasionally about her. She still saw no sign of a bed.
“Not needed in free-fell,” he said, in answer to her unspoken question. “If we were in powered flight I would make a section of the floor turn into a waterbed. At the moment all we need are these.” He drifted up to the ceiling. They were both naked, and as he rose past her Jan saw plenty of evidence of his excitement.
He returned holding two broad straps and laughed at the expression on her face. “Not for what you may be thinking. Maybe some other time, but these are to stop us drifting off into the walls.” He bent and attached one to each of his ankles.
“What about me?” said Jan.
“You’ll see.” Paul straightened and embraced her again. They kissed and fondled each other for a few minutes, until Paul sighed, took his hands from Jan’s breasts, and reached around to grasp the back of her thighs.
“I know this won’t sound very romantic,” he said, “but I have to get it out of the way. Newton’s Third Law is more noticeable in space than it is on Earth. If we’re to stay in contact, you need to put your legs round mine and lock them there. That’s right. That’s fine. Just let me do the Work.”
“I will.” And just don’t let me do something stupid. Jan closed her eyes and pressed her lips against his.
After a long minute when things didn’t seem to be working, Paul at last found the right position. The lower parts of their bodies came into full contact and he grunted with satisfaction. They made love in silence for a long time, until Paul gasped, grunted, and thrust so hard that Jan’s legs had trouble holding him in position.
He clung to her, panting and perspiring, while she caressed the back of his head. Finally he leaned back and stared into her eyes.
“How was it?” Jan asked.
“Great. Just great.” Paul frowned. “Not so good for you, though. I know you didn’t get there. Sorry, but I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“That’s all right. I didn’t expect to. Be honest with me. Wasn’t it a bit difficult?”
“Well, yes. At first it was.”
“I thought it might be. They say that the first time usually is.”
“Of course it is.” He smiled. “Zero-gee, the first time in space, all the body movements are different.”
He saw her expression, and the smile left his face. “When you say the first time, you don’t mean—” Their bodies were still locked together, but he pushed himself away from Jan so that he could stare down at himself. “My God. You do.”
“It’s all right. There’s only just a few drops on you. A clumsy doctor took care of that during a physical when I was younger. You won’t be hanging bloody sheets outside the ports.”
Paul moved farther away from Jan, reached down, and released the straps from his ankles. He moved to a wall drawer and pulled out an object like a double sleeping bag. When he and Jan were snugly zipped up inside it he said, “This is quite a shock. You really were a virgin?”
“Don’t look so surprised. We all start out that way. If you mean, what am I doing, a woman well over thirty and still not sexually experienced, then I don’t have a good answer.”
“It’s nothing to do with age.” Paul still seemed distressed. “But if I had known…”
“If you had known, then what? Would you have avoided me?”
“No!”
“You didn’t exactly rape me, you know.” Jan pulled him close to her again. “I was as keen for this to happen
