* * * * *
The headwaiter approached bearing another magnum of vintage wine. He
beamed at Don Mathers. "Having a good time, sir?"
"Okay," Don said shortly. When the other was gone he downed a full
glass, felt the fumes almost immediately.
He said to Dian, "I haven't been avoiding you, Di. We just haven't met.
The way I remember, the last time we saw each other, back on Earth, you
gave me quite a slap in the face. The way I remember, you didn't think I
was hero enough for you." He poured another glass of the champagne.
Di's face was still flushed. She said, her voice low, "I misunderstood
you, Don. Even after your brilliant defeat of that Kraden cruiser, I
still, I admit, think I basically misunderstood you. I told myself that
it could have been done by any pilot of a Scout, given that one in a
million break. It just happened to be you, who made that suicide dive
attack that succeeded. A thousand other pilots might also have taken the
million to one suicide chance rather than let the Kraden escape."
"Yeah," Don said. Even in his alcohol, he was surprised at her words. He
said gruffly, "Sure anybody might've done it. Pure luck. But why'd you
change your mind about me, then? How come the switch of heart?"
"Because of what you've done since, darling."
He closed one eye, the better to focus.
"Since?"
He recognized the expression in her eyes. A touch of star gleam. That
little girl back on Earth, the receptionist at the Interplanetary Lines
building, she'd had it. In fact, in the past few months Don had seen it
in many feminine faces. And all for him.
Dian said, "Instead of cashing in on your prestige, you've been devoting
yourself to something even more necessary to the fight than bringing
down individual Kraden cruisers."
Don looked at her. He could feel a nervous tic beginning in his left
eyebrow. Finally, he reached for the champagne again and filled his
glass. He said, "You really go for this hero stuff, don't you?"
She said nothing, but the star shine was still in her eyes.
He made his voice deliberately sour. "Look, suppose I asked you to come
back to my apartment with me tonight?"
"Yes," she said softly.
"And told you to bring your overnight bag along," he added brutally.
Dian looked into his face. "Why are you twisting yourself, your
inner-self, so hard, Don? Of course I'd come--if that's what you
wanted."
"And then," he said flatly, "suppose I kicked you out in the morning?"
Dian winced, but she kept her eyes even with his, her own moist now.
"You forget," she whispered. "You have been awarded the Galactic Medal
of Honor, the bearer of which can do no wrong."
"Oh, God," Don muttered. He filled his glass, still again, motioned to a
nearby waiter.
"Yes, sir," the waiter said.
Don said, "Look, in about five minutes I'm going to pass out. See that I
get back to my hotel, will you? And that this young lady gets to her
home. And, waiter, just send my bill to the hotel too."
The other bowed. "The owner's instructions, sir, are that Captain
Mathers must never see a bill in this establishment."