"What makes you think I'm going to drive off with a doped-to-the-eyes
hellflower addict?"
"Because one of the games I'm playing is nosey-nosey with Carolyn
Niles, and there's going to be no addict cluttering up my spacer.
She'd crumb up the whole deal for fair. You obviously know her, know
where she belongs. Take her to a sanatorium. That'll keep her out of
everyone's hair, especially mine, and she's on my trail."
"I guess this move is up to me. I hate to drop her in a sanatorium."
"What else can anybody do?" asked Farradyne, wistfully, spreading his
hand.
"Not much, but I feel that I owe her more than that kind of handling.
Not much more than a jail, you know." Clevis sighed.
"I can imagine. But what can you do for people cursed with a disease
that no one knows how to cure?"
"Segregate 'em," growled Clevis. "Well, let's see what we can do about
carting Norma out of the ship. When you ship out you will be followed
at extreme military radar range. You'll have hard-boiled company
watching you, Farradyne."
They went below and found Norma stretched out on the divan. She was
sleeping, relaxed as a kitten, with one leg drawn up to uncover the
other shapely leg. Her hands were outstretched over her head and open.
Her breathing was regular, and normal. The hellflower still cast its
heady perfume through the room, and Norma was smiling.
Farradyne plucked the flower from her hair. "This I'll need," he said
quietly.
Clevis nodded. "I'll carry her," he said. The Sandman picked Norma up
gently as she sleepily protested, but put her arms around Clevis' neck
and her head against his cheek and let herself be carried from the
salon.
Watching from the port, Farradyne reflected that they looked like a
happy party-couple, leaving after too many cocktails, with the girl
dozing on her man's shoulder.
Farradyne shrugged. Clevis had bought himself a bundle of trouble--when
she awoke, with Clevis, and without the love lotus.... He smiled
cynically, and went to bed....
Carolyn came aboard that evening and her first request was for her
"gardenia." She put it in her hair and stood there inviting him with
her eyes. Farradyne kissed her briefly and waved her to a seat.
"Tired of me, Charles?"
"I've had no time to get used to you, let alone tired of you," he told
her. "But I'm more than a trifle curious about this trip we'll be
taking in the morning."
"Why not let it wait until then?"
Farradyne looked at her boldly, made no attempt to hide his careful
appraisal of her figure and face. She accepted his brazen eyeing and
colored a bit. Then he said, "Let's admit it, there's nothing I'd
rather do than spend the night making love. It's my favorite indoor
sport. It's fun outdoors, too. But there are at least two things
against it."
"Two?"
He smiled. "You've made affectionate noises and a few statements
regarding your previous affections which lead me to believe that you
would not applaud me if I slung you over one shoulder and carried you
down to your stateroom. The second item is that the way to get ahead is
to marry the boss' daughter, not make her your mistress. Also if you
think for one moment that I have enough ice in my spine or hardening in
my arteries to make with happy-talk from now until six ack-emma, you're
wrong."
Carolyn leaned back and laughed.
"Carolyn, have you ever heard of _noblesse oblige_?"
"What has that to do with me--and you?"
"It applies. You are a damned attractive female, and as such you should
not use this attraction unless you want the man you are luring. Follow?"
Carolyn nodded. "I'll behave," she said. "I like you, Charles. No other
man has ever talked to me like that."
"Well, be careful or I'll prove to you that I am just like all the
rest. Now, how about this other deal? Or should we talk about the
weather--or chess, tiddly-winks, astronomy?"
"Astronomy. We see no stars on Mercury, you know."
"So it's up to the telescope. Come on."
Farradyne shook his head in amused concern. It was apparent that
Carolyn liked to play with fire; either that or she wanted to show her
own superiority to herself. She could hardly have known about the visit
of Norma Hannon, so she would not be aware of the fact that Farradyne
had been able to establish the validity of the hellflower. Mentally
Farradyne kicked himself. All he had done was to put the woman on her
guard. She knew it was a hellflower, she must know it. So this nice
little game she was playing was known to be a game.
So that made it even--both of them knew it was the real thing, both of
them knew she was immune.
This might be cricket, but it was not good management. This was not a
contest for the Glory of Good Old Siwash or to win the Golden Fleece.
This was a game where the loser never came to bat again, and once he
was Out, started polishing the Golden Gates or riding gain on the
servo-amplifiers for Mephisto's atomic hellfire. He had to pull a part
of this play back out of danger.
He had pulled a fluff--the obvious way to remove it was to admit it.
In the darkened control room, Farradyne reached forward and removed the
love lotus from her hair. He threw it into the chute that eventually
led into the incandescent reaction blast.
She turned and her face was dim in the starlight.
"Why did you do that?" she asked.
Farradyne lied calmly, "Because when I give you your next corsage, it
will be a bona fide gardenia if I have to get a pedigree from the guy
who grew it."
Her smile was a trifle bitter. "What would you have done if it had
worked?"