hadn’t had enough experience with such things to handle it gracefully. She was butterflying with grim determination, taking to bed almost anybody who could get there under his own power. By chance or her unconscious design, though, none of those men approached being her intellectual equal. Daniel Anderson did, and that was going to make a considerable difference.
By Devonite standards, Daniel would not have been considered a good lover. Their slang for men like him was “hard place”: he had the minimum physical requisite but none of the skills they prized so highly. To O’Hara that was less a disadvantage than an interesting challenge. She enjoyedbeing good at things, and showing off her talents. So Daniel became the latest draftee into the platoon of men who indirectly benefited from Charlie Devon’s religious upbringing.
He was the first one who didn’t seem to be particularly impressed. Grateful, yes, and properly responsive to her ministrations, but from the beginning he seemed more interested in her brain than in the other organs. Rather than flattering her, this made O’Hara anxious. She had always taken her mind for granted.
But that was evidently what it took to make her fall in love. Intellectual combat she searched out all of Daniel’s most cherished beliefs and held them up to analysis, even ridicule; he gave it right back. They fenced and sparred and gleefully shouted each other down, and usually wound up in bed. It was an odd combination, pepper and honey, but they both responded to it. Within days, they had captured one another, and they grew ever closer during the two months she had remaining.
11
Leavings
“You’ve got to be sensible.” They were squeezed together in the bed that took up a third of Anderson’s small room.
“I know, I know.” O’Hara sat drawn up tightly, chin on knees, arms wrapped around her legs. Staring at the blank wall.
“You’re overreacting. There was almost no chance.”
“Bureaucrats.” O’Hara had tried to have her trip to Earth delayed six months, until it was nearer time for Anderson to go back. After eight weeks she got her reply: Denied.
“You can’t pass it up. They won’t give you another chance.”
“They might. My record—”
“Your record will show that you were given the opportunity of a lifetime and refused it for the sake of a love affair. Drink?”
“No.” Daniel inchwormed out of bed and squirted some wine into a cup.
“Mind?” He held up his weekly cigarette.
“Go ahead.” The acrid smell filled the room quickly. To O’Hara it was exotic, but it made her want to sneeze. “I guess a lot of people on Earth smoke.”
“Depends on where you go. It’s illegal some places, like the Alexandrian Dominion. California.” He set the cup onthe bedstand and slid in next to her, pulling the cover up to his waist. “Try a puff?”
“No. I might like it.” None of the Worlds grew tobacco. She slid herself under the cover, up to her breasts, and dabbed at her eyes with a corner of it.
“I don’t want to see you leave, either.”
“I’m glad you finally said that” There was an awkward silence. “Sorry. Unfair.”
“All’s fair.”
She rested her hand on his thigh, under the cover. “Nothing is, really. First Law of the Universe.”
“Philosophy.” He blew a smoke ring. “How long will it take you to finish that damned thing?”
12
Down to Earth
A rich tourist can get from New New York back to Earth in a little more than a day. Marianne O’Hara’s trip was going to take two weeks.
Her goodbye to Daniel Anderson was as awkward and contrary to plan as such things always are. (John Ogelby had given her an avuncular kiss the night before, pleading that work pressure would keep him from seeing her off, which wasn’t true.) She boarded the slowboat feeling sad and confused, and slightly ill from all the shots, and not thrilled at the prospect of two weeks of weightlessness.
Actually, her slowboat was a triumph of
By Devonite standards, Daniel would not have been considered a good lover. Their slang for men like him was “hard place”: he had the minimum physical requisite but none of the skills they prized so highly. To O’Hara that was less a disadvantage than an interesting challenge. She enjoyedbeing good at things, and showing off her talents. So Daniel became the latest draftee into the platoon of men who indirectly benefited from Charlie Devon’s religious upbringing.
He was the first one who didn’t seem to be particularly impressed. Grateful, yes, and properly responsive to her ministrations, but from the beginning he seemed more interested in her brain than in the other organs. Rather than flattering her, this made O’Hara anxious. She had always taken her mind for granted.
But that was evidently what it took to make her fall in love. Intellectual combat she searched out all of Daniel’s most cherished beliefs and held them up to analysis, even ridicule; he gave it right back. They fenced and sparred and gleefully shouted each other down, and usually wound up in bed. It was an odd combination, pepper and honey, but they both responded to it. Within days, they had captured one another, and they grew ever closer during the two months she had remaining.
11
Leavings
“You’ve got to be sensible.” They were squeezed together in the bed that took up a third of Anderson’s small room.
“I know, I know.” O’Hara sat drawn up tightly, chin on knees, arms wrapped around her legs. Staring at the blank wall.
“You’re overreacting. There was almost no chance.”
“Bureaucrats.” O’Hara had tried to have her trip to Earth delayed six months, until it was nearer time for Anderson to go back. After eight weeks she got her reply: Denied.
“You can’t pass it up. They won’t give you another chance.”
“They might. My record—”
“Your record will show that you were given the opportunity of a lifetime and refused it for the sake of a love affair. Drink?”
“No.” Daniel inchwormed out of bed and squirted some wine into a cup.
“Mind?” He held up his weekly cigarette.
“Go ahead.” The acrid smell filled the room quickly. To O’Hara it was exotic, but it made her want to sneeze. “I guess a lot of people on Earth smoke.”
“Depends on where you go. It’s illegal some places, like the Alexandrian Dominion. California.” He set the cup onthe bedstand and slid in next to her, pulling the cover up to his waist. “Try a puff?”
“No. I might like it.” None of the Worlds grew tobacco. She slid herself under the cover, up to her breasts, and dabbed at her eyes with a corner of it.
“I don’t want to see you leave, either.”
“I’m glad you finally said that” There was an awkward silence. “Sorry. Unfair.”
“All’s fair.”
She rested her hand on his thigh, under the cover. “Nothing is, really. First Law of the Universe.”
“Philosophy.” He blew a smoke ring. “How long will it take you to finish that damned thing?”
12
Down to Earth
A rich tourist can get from New New York back to Earth in a little more than a day. Marianne O’Hara’s trip was going to take two weeks.
Her goodbye to Daniel Anderson was as awkward and contrary to plan as such things always are. (John Ogelby had given her an avuncular kiss the night before, pleading that work pressure would keep him from seeing her off, which wasn’t true.) She boarded the slowboat feeling sad and confused, and slightly ill from all the shots, and not thrilled at the prospect of two weeks of weightlessness.
Actually, her slowboat was a triumph of
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