Her eyes changed. "I loved him," she breathed in a voice that was
both soft and heavy with another kind of anger than the violence she
had shown just a moment before. This was the resentment against the
past, while her previous flare of anger had been against the physical
present. "I loved him," she repeated. "I loved the flat-brained animal,
enough to lead him into the bedroom if that's what he wanted. But
no, the imbecile thought that the only way I would unfreeze was with
a hellflower. So he parted with a half-a-hundred dollars for one.
He could have rented a hotel room for a ten dollar bill," she added
sourly. "Or bought a marriage license and had me for the rest of his
life for five."
"Why didn't you refuse it?" he asked. "Or didn't you know that it
wasn't a gardenia?"
Norma looked up with eyes that started to blaze, but they died and she
was listless again. "Maybe because people like to flirt with danger,"
she said. "Maybe because men and women don't really understand each
other."
"That's the understatement of the century."
There was no flicker of amusement in her face. "Look at it this way,"
she said. "I did say I loved him. So naturally he wouldn't be the kind
of man who would bring me a lotus. Or if he did I could wear it for the
lift they bring without any danger, because any man worth loving would
not take advantage of his sweetheart while she's unable to object.
So I wore it and when I woke up after a real orgy instead of a mild
emotional binge, I was on the road toward having no feelings left. I've
been on that road ever since and I've come a long way."
She looked at him again. "So you see what you and your kind have done?"
she demanded. Farradyne knew that she was whipping herself into a fury
again. "I was a nice, healthy woman once, but now I'm a burned-out
battery--a tired engine. It takes a spot of violence to make me feel
anything. Or maybe a sniff from a lotus. Maybe by now it would take
more than one."
"But I haven't any."
She bared her teeth at him. "You can afford to part with one stinking
flower."
"I haven't--"
* * * * *
Norma leaped out of her chair and came across the room, her face
distorted, her hands clawing at his face. Farradyne fought her away,
and saw with dismay the look of animated pleasure on her twisted face.
It was an unfair fight; Farradyne was trying to keep her from hurting
him without being forced to hurt her, while she went at him with heel
and fingernail and teeth.
He gave up. Taking a cold aim at the point of her jaw, Farradyne let
her have it.
Norma recoiled a bit and her face glowed even more. He had not struck
her hard enough because of his repugnance at hitting a woman. She came
after him again, enjoying the physical violence, looking for more of
the same. Farradyne gritted his teeth and let her have it, hard this
time.
Norma collapsed with a suddenness that scared him. He caught her
before she hit the metal floor and carried her to the salon where he
placed her on the padded bench that ran along one wall. His knowledge
of things medical was not high, but it was enough to let him know that
she did not have a broken jaw. Of one thing there was no doubt: Norma
was out colder than Farradyne had ever seen man or woman.
He carried her below, to one of the tiny staterooms.
He stood there, contemplating her and wondering what to do next. He
would have been puzzled as to the next move even if Norma had been a
completely normal person. As it was, Farradyne decided that no matter
what he did it would be wrong. The cocktail dress would not stand much
sleeping in before it came apart at the seams, but she would surely
rave if he took it off to save it for tomorrow. If he left her in it,
she would rave at him for letting her ruin the only thing she had to
wear. He shrugged and slipped the hold-down strap across her waist and
let it go at that.
Then he went to his own stateroom and locked the door against any more
of this ruckus and confusion. He slept fitfully even though the locked
door separated him from both amour and murder--either of which added up
to the same end with Norma Hannon.
V
It was a sixty-hour trip from Ganymede to Mars. Each hour was a bit
more trying than the one before.
Norma bedeviled him in every way she knew. She found fault with his
cooking but refused to go near the galley herself. She objected to the
brand of cigarettes he smoked. She made scathing remarks whenever he
touched an instrument, reminding him of his presumed incompetence as a
pilot. She scorned him for refusing to open his hold and bring her the
love lotus she craved.
By the time Farradyne set the Lancaster Eighty-One down at Sun Lake
City on Mars, he had almost arrived at the point where her voice was
just so much noise.
He landed after the usual discussion of landing space and beacon route
with Sun Lake Tower, and he found time to wonder whether the word about
his affiliation had been spread yet. The Tower operator paid him no
more attention than if he had been running in and out of that spaceport
for years.
He pressed the button that opened the spacelock and ran out the landing
ramp.
"This is it," he said flatly.
"This is what?"
"The end of the line."
"I'm staying."
"No, you're not."
"I'm staying, Farradyne. I like it here. You go on about your sordid
business, and see that you get enough to spare a couple for me. For
I'll be here when you get back."
The woman's eyes glinted with hatred and determination.
Farradyne swore. She had moved in on him unwanted and had ridden with
him unwanted. If she wanted to, she could raise her voice and that
would be it. One yelp and Farradyne would spend a long time explaining
to all sorts of big brass why he was hauling a woman around the solar
system against her wishes.
So grunting helplessly, Farradyne left her in the Lancaster and went to
register at Operations. He was received blandly, just as he had been
received on Ganymede. Then he headed into Sun Lake City to stall a
bit. He went to a show, had a drink or two, prowled around a bookstore
looking for something that might inform him about the love lotus,
bought himself some clothing to augment his scant supply. He succeeded
in forgetting about Norma Hannon for a solid four hours.
Then he remembered, and with the air of a man about to visit a dentist
for a painful operation, Farradyne went reluctantly back to his ship.
* * * * *
The silence that met him was reassuring. Even if she had been sound
asleep, the noise of his arrival would have awakened her so that
she would come out to needle him some more. He looked the ship over
carefully, satisfying himself that Norma Hannon was not present.
This was too good to miss.
He raced to the control room, punched savagely at the button that
closed the spacelock, and fired up the communications radio.
"Lancaster Eighty-One calling Tower."
"Go ahead, Lancaster."
"Request take-off instructions. Course, Terra."
"Lancaster, is your passenger aboard?"
"Passenger?"
"Check Stateroom Eight, Lancaster. Your passenger informed us that she
was going into town on an errand, that you were not to leave without
her."
"Aye-firm. I will check." Farradyne grimaced at the closed microphone.
Willfully marooning a passenger would get him into more trouble than
trying to account for the presence of his guest. Norma had done a fine
job of bolting the Lancaster to the landing block in her absence.
He waited fifty seconds. "Tower from Lancaster Eighty-One. I will wait.
My passenger is not aboard."
"Lancaster. Hold-down Switches to Safety, Warm-Up Switches to Stand-By.
Power Switches to Off. Open your port for visitor."
"Visitor, Tower?"
"Civilian requests conference about pick-up job, Lancaster. Are you
free?"
"I am free for Terra, Tower."
"Prepare to receive visitor, Lancaster. Good luck on the job."
"Aye-firm. Over and off."
Farradyne went below and rode the bottom step of the landing ramp on
its way out of the spacelock. He reached the ground with the arrival of
a port jeep, which brought his visitor to him.
"You're Charles Farradyne? I'm Carl Brenner. I'm told you are free for
Terra. Is that right?"
"That's right."
Brenner nodded. He looked around. The jeep was idling and making enough
noise so that the driver, sitting in the machine, could not possibly
hear anything that was being said. The driver was not even interested
in them; something in the distance had caught his eye and he was giving
it all his attention. Satisfied, Brenner leaned forward and in a low
voice said: "Let me see what you've got."
Farradyne shook his head. "Who, me?" he asked, as though he did not
know what Brenner was talking about.
"You. I'm in the market. If they're in good shape, we can make a deal."
Farradyne felt that this was as good a time to play cagey as any. "I
don't know what you're talking about," he said.
"No? I hardly think you're telling the truth, Farradyne."