(eng) Mack Reynolds & Dean Ing by Trojan Orbit

Author:Trojan Orbit [Orbit, Trojan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Peter Kapitz had awakened the morning after the party for Prince Abou ben Abel to find himself momentarily disoriented. He stared up at the unpainted metal ceiling and for a moment wondered if he was in a battleship. Obviously not. Now it came back to him. He moved his eyes to the right and there was the blonde head of Irene, the girl who had waited upon him and Mark Donald, the Security lieutenant, at the L5 Hilton dining room the day before.

Mark Donald was a man of his word. He had promised to fix the IABI man up with Irene. Somewhat to Pete's surprise, the waitress had attended the party and, before it was over, Donald had gotten them together. Pete had memories of too much guzzle and too much rich food after more than a week spent in deep space under austere conditions. And evidently it had never occurred to the girl not to come to his room when the party broke up. It couldn't be his good looks and he rather doubted it was his charm. Peter Kapitz had few illusions about himself as a romantic figure.

She came awake at almost the same time he had and was the type who could smile as though meaning it at the first sight of the new day. A repulsive characteristic, in Pete's estimation.

She said, "Good morning, darling."

"Good morning?" he repeated. At least she looked as attractive the morning after as she had the night before. Which didn't always apply. In fact, it rarely did. She was one scrumptious mopsy, he told himself. One of her coral-tipped melons popped up from under the bed sheet and and it came back to him that they'd tumbled into bed nude and that her figure was as gorgeous as her piquant face.

"Why?" he said.

"Why what?"

"Why'd you bother to come to bed with me last night? I'm not exactly a Tri-Di super-jock."

She grinned at him. "It all comes under the head of public relations. Mr. Moore said that you were to be given VIP status."

"You mean that you work all day in that restaurant and then at night you perform, ah, public relations duties? You need a union."

She shrugged shoulders that were as round as her heels, brought her arms up, and stretched hugely, revealing the other melon as the sheet slipped. "Extra pay," she said. "A girl's hard-put at Lagrange Five to afford any of the goodies unless she takes every opportunity to, uh, improve herself." She took a deep breath. "Besides, they never would have let me come up if they hadn't known I was cooperative."

He took her in, all over again, and said, "You don't exactly look like a space construction worker, or even some scientific type. Why did you come to Island One? I'd think a girl like you could make a small fortune in Vegas or the Bahamas. In Lagrange Five, it must be a little rugged for a girl who likes her goodies."

She hesitated momentarily, then shrugged the magnificent shoulders again.

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