hand raised, all the life beaten out
of his face, still trying to smile—nothing behind it, nothing at all, just
hollow . . .
Tears welled up, hot and unpleasant, and Mariwen put a hand
on her shoulder. “Oh shit,”—the expletive was so alien on her lips that it
shocked Kris—“I said something stupid, didn’t I?”
“No.” Her voice choked. “No, it’s okay. Really.” She
reached up, touched Mariwen’s arm lightly and shrugged out from under it.
Mariwen bit her lip as her hand slid off Kris’s shoulder.
“Like hell.”
Kris sat down on her bunk, put her face in her hands.
Dragging up years of hard-earned control she forced the tears back where they
belonged. She raised her head and smiled at Mariwen. “Look, I’m okay. Really.”
Mariwen was unconvinced. “If you say so.” She paused, then
said, “It might be better if you just let it go. There isn’t anything wrong
with that, you know. If you want to talk . . .”
Kris shook her head, politely but firmly. “No. I don’t wanna
talk. It’s fine. I’m used to it.”
Mariwen nodded, relenting with a smile. “Okay.” Then a second
later, she said: “You know, it’s nice not to be the supermodel to
someone. You haven’t even asked for my autograph.”
“Yet.” An attempt at a witty repartee—Mariwen seemed to
expect that and it was the best she could do at the moment.
“Don’t be in a hurry. Are you hungry?”
Kris drew a couple of deep slow breaths. “Probably.”
“Want to get something to eat? They already won’t talk to
us. We could start a rumor.”
“You don’t think there’s enough rumors already?”
“Oh, come on.” Mariwen held out her hand. Kris hesitated,
then took Mariwen’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze before letting their
fingers slip apart. Mariwen cocked her head, her look becoming a little
pensive. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be pushy. I’d just really like the company.”
That teased a smile out of Kris, slim but real. “Okay,” she
answered, “Yeah. Thanks.”
“Thank you ,” Mariwen said with a grin. “I’m not quite
up to being alone with my legions of rabid fans just yet.”
Chapter Four
LSS Arizona
entering Sagittarius
Dinner was something of a disappointment. It was, in
fact, the same concentrate-based stuff that Kris had learned to loathe. This
didn’t do much for her appetite, but she found that if she listened to Mariwen,
she could ignore the food. She hadn’t known how to take Mariwen’s comment about
‘legions of rabid fans’—she seemed to be kidding, but Kris couldn’t tell about
which part. There certainly did appear to be legions of fans, to say the least. Everyone knew her, and the same things that made Mariwen a pariah to the
Harkness Amalekites—her sexual orientation and chosen profession—made her a
deity to the crew. They were stopped constantly on the way to the mess and had
their dinner interrupted half a dozen more times once they got there.
But they were hardly rabid. In fact, they all were on their
best Sunday-school manners. Still Kris was amazed at the graciousness with
which Mariwen met them. She smiled, chatted, signed everything—including a
nude flat-photo from an old ‘zine—leaving all her admirers grinning and many
of them tongue-tied and flushed.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Mariwen admitted when the beaming crewman
with the nude pic left. “You have to get started in this business somehow.
That’s one of the best ways. Besides”—she took another dainty bite of the
lousy food—“it was fun. I’d do it again, if my agent would let me. But she
says it would cost me too much. The money’s all in the tease. Of course, I
might tell her to go to hell one of these days.”
Kris couldn’t get her mind off the image. “And you said I was beautiful.”
“You are,” Mariwen said, suddenly serious. She put down her
fork. “You’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.”
Kris blushed. Mariwen started eating again. “I
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley