there's going to be rain, a lot of rain, when the Earth cools off. It'll probably swallow Dikta City. The Boys'll think the dikta drowned."
Uranus jetted violet-white flame. Peerssa's path through Jupiter's moons was a complicated one. The night was vivid with lights: dayside Uranus, the pinpoint flare on Uranus's night side, Jupiter, the swarming moons. The air was hot and humid and redolent with some rare scent, not quite musk, not quite flower shop. Corbell wondered where it came from. Were whales holding a mating season offshore? The air went to his head.
"Corbell?"
"Yeah?"
"What if the dikta are content to grow old gracefully?"
In the dark he could barely make out her impish smile. (Impish? It was that same malevolent smile, with the wrinkles gone. Had it always been merely impish?) He said, "They still won't have a choice."
A nasty thought came to him then, and he made haste to correct himself. "They won't have a choice about coming here. They can take dikta immortality or leave it." All the same, he had manipulated the dikta-for their own good-and would not Peerssa say the same to Corbell? I'd better be right! If they've got complaints in a hundred years, I'll still be there to hear them!
The shadow in the dark asked, "Will the dikta men find me beautiful?"
"Yes. Beautiful and exotic. If the women liked me, the men will like you."
She turned to him. "But you don't find me beautiful."
"My sex urge is supposed to-"
"That is no answer!" she flared. "You lay with the dikta women!" He flinched back. "If you must know, I've always been a little afraid of a beautiful girl. And I'm scared stiff of you. My hindbrain thinks you're still carrying that cane."
"Corbell, you are well aware that the dikta may not survive the change in their biological rhythms. The sun shows every day in Four City, all through the year." She touched his arm. "Even if they live, we are the last human beings. If we die without children..."
He wanted to shrink away, but something in him simultaneously wanted to move closer. He suppressed both urges. "You're moving too fast. There may be dikta women already carrying my children. That'll tell us if they're human-and even if they aren't, they're close enough."
"Let's go inside. The heat-" When he gestured toward the garish intruder in the sky, she tugged at his arm. "If it falls on the Earth, do you really want to be watching?"
"Yes." But he picked up the helmet and followed her. She didn't have the cane anymore. All she had to wave at him was a planet ten times the size of the Earth.
It was cooler in the elevator. Air conditioning. His nerves still tingled, whether from Uranus's passing or from the nearness of the Norn... He sniffed suddenly, and had to swallow a laugh. That was what he had smelled on the roof. She had never worn perfume before.
Her hood was thrown back. Her hair was exotic: long, fine white hair flowing out of a fiery red undercoat. Of the wrinkles of age there were only traces left. Her breasts were... exotic, yeah: high and conical, delightfully pointed under the robe. Would the dikta see them as powerfully sensual or as evidence of animal origin?
The elevator had stopped. The doors opened. But Corbell was flattened against the wall, and Mirelly-Lyra wasn't moving, either. She watched him uneasily as he took in great lungsful of air, using all of his strength to hold himself stiff.
He wanted her. It was a madness in him, and he was terrified. "Perfume," he said, and his voice was a croak.
She said, "Yes. Shame on you for forcing me to such means. If it gives you pleasure to attack my pride, you've won."
"I don't understand!"
"Pheromones. I altered my medical system to make pheromones to affect your sex urge. Pheromones are biochemical cues." She stepped forward, put her hands on his shoulders. "Do you think I wanted it this-" And the touch of her was all it took.
The fastenings on her robe weren't fastened, save one, which ripped. He had more trouble with his own loincloth, his hands were shaking so, and he howled with frustration. She had to do it for him. He took her on the floor of the elevator, quickly, violently. Maybe he hurt her. Maybe he wanted to.
And his head still bubbled with the perfume. He had not had time to notice the differences in her. Now he did. Even fifty thousand years had wrought changes. Her ankles were heavier, her body was thicker in every dimension, than the standard of beauty in 1970 A.D. And she had the damndest eyes, with a tilt that was not oriental.
and a soft woman's mouth. He took her again. She wasn't passive, but she wasn't wholly enjoying it, either; she was frightened of what she had unleashed.
Afterward he was calmer. They moved out of the elevator onto the cloud-rug floor. The third time it was she who mounted him. He tried to hold himself back, to let her find her own way, but when it was over he could see his handprints bone white on her hips. He said, belatedly, "Are you all right?"
She laughed. Still straddling him, she ran her hands through her hair. "I'm young. I'll heal."
"You used an aphrodisiac on me."
"Yes. Aphrodisiac. The pheromones were Peerssa's suggestion."
"What? Peerssa? I'll kill him! He- and you! You used me like a bundle of reflexes, the pair of you!" He wanted to cry. "Not like something that thinks. It's just like that damn cane."
"Forget the damn cane! We have to have children. We're the last ones. What do you want from me, Corbell?"
"I don't know. Ask me when my head starts working again. I want Peerssa dead, I want Pierce the checker dead. Would he kill himself if you told him to?"
"He did what he had to. He has to make the State again. Corbell, isn't this better than the cane? Isn't it?"
"All right, it's better than the cane."
"Then what do you want? Will you mate with me without the pheromones? Shall I tell Peerssa to follow your orders?"
He wanted (he discovered) Mirabelle. He wanted the old rituaclass="underline" dinner at a new restaurant recommended by friends, and brandy Alexanders afterward, and the king-size bed. They'd bought a water bed a little before the cancer came to tear up his belly. Now here he was on his back in cloud-rug, in a corridor outside an elevator, with the strangest of strange women. "Not your fault," he said. "I want to go home."
She shook her head. "I want to go home, too. We can't. We have to build our home again."
They were already doing that, Corbell thought. Maybe they'd even do it well. He said, "Even love stories aren't the same. Pheromones! Jesus, what a way to save the world. Will you please fix that translator so it talks to me in your voice?"
"All right. Tomorrow," said an old man's voice.
"And put me in control of Peerssa, if you value my sanity. I'm sick of him running my life."
"Now?"
"Tomorrow." One more thing he would have liked to do. He would have liked to destroy the cane by smashing it repeatedly into Peerssa's brain case. But they might need Peerssa and the cane against the Boys, if they came too soon.
So he rolled aside and looked for his loincloth... and then, changing his mind, he leaned close to Mirelly-Lyra and inhaled deeply. Uranus must have passed by now, and Earth was on its way into a wider orbit, and world-saving could wait until tomorrow. Maybe the pheromone perfume could be used judiciously, in much smaller quantities...