pleasure from the colonists playing in the water. A pleasantly rounded shape ran from the darkness to the light.
"We have them."
"Have-?"
"Juniper berries, silly. I remembered." Mary Ann shook water onto him and handed him a towel. "Dry me?"
He smiled good-naturedly and buffed her. Her hair was ash-blond, it glowed in the double moonlight, and her skin was baby smooth and clear. Her body was toned and well-rounded. Rubens would have lusted to paint her-or something. Avalon's increased gravity had added six pounds to her weight when she set foot on the ground. All of the colonists showed better muscle tone, and so did Mary Ann.
She giggled and leaned back into him in a clear invitation. Methodically he scrubbed out the wet tips of her hair and worked his way quickly down her body.
She sighed and shuddered slightly. "You have talents I didn't know 'bout, Cad."
"Part of the service. Where's Joe?" He moved his hands under the towel.
Her eyelids fluttered with brief, suppressed pain. "We don't keep track of each other." Her expression tightened. "Ah. I owe you a rub now."
Her skin beneath his hands was cool but growing warm. She's willing, she's nice... nicely shaped... isn't she smart enough? Isn't she Sylvia? He said, "We'll take a rain check on that."
"Coward." Mary Ann brought her pug nose close to his. "I'll never live to see the day."
He winked at her. "I may surprise you yet."
"Hah!" she said, and jiggled off to another bonfire. The men there shouted as she approached.
Cadmann looked determinedly at the twin moons. We can't keep calling them "Big" and "Little." "Cadmus"? That's a good name for a moon-oh, hell, here comes Terry.
Terry Faulkner said, "She's a dish."
"Yes, I've always liked Sylvia."
Terry's nose wrinkled. "Mary Ann. She likes you. She's told me."
Cadmann said nothing. Terry said, "I've noticed that you don't keep company with any of the ladies."
"That's not what I'm here for, Terry."
"True..." Terry's gaze panned from Mary Ann to Sylvia. "But there is one lady you've been spending a lot of time around, you know."
"Come off it. Sylvia and I are just friends."
"I know." There was a cutting edge to Terry's voice. "You were pretty friendly the first three months you were down, while the rest of us were asleep up in the ship." He made harsh squiggling patterns in the sand with his toe.
"What's your point?"
"I'd just feel a lot better about it if you had a nice healthy interest in one of the other ladies, that's all."
Carlos was loitering nearby, his ear innocently turned in their direction. Cadmann cleared his throat loudly. "Now hear this. Boy, would I like a beer right now."
"Con gusto, amigo." Carlos walked away whistling.
"Terry, you must know there is nothing between me and your wife. We talk-"
"A damned lot."
Cadmann pointedly eyed the beer in Terry's hand. "Yes. We talk. And if you talked to Sylvia more, she wouldn't need a friend so badly."
Terry froze. "My relationship with Sylvia is none of your damned business."
"You brought it up. Which makes it my business. We talk, and if you're worried that she looks for more than talk, maybe there's something else you don't give her enough of."
Terry turned away, walked two steps and turned back. "You really are an asshole, Weyland." He turned away.
"Terry."
Faulkner stopped. "What?"
"Did you think that getting Sylvia knocked up as soon as they thawed you out would hang a big ‘hands off' sign on her?"
There was a sudden lull in the air around them. Every face near them was carefully, deliberately turned away from the exchange. Cadmann's face heated, suddenly flushed with blood. Terry's hands hooked into claws, and his mouth worked silently.
Too loud! Aw, shit.
The thin man kicked at the fire, sending a burst of sparks into the air. "You know, Weyland, I don't really care what went on before I woke up. Because you're not the big man anymore. You're not a farmer, you're not a builder. You're not even an engineer. You're just an