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She laughed in delight. "You remind me of my brother, old Josh. He was always yelling at me to put on some decent clothing."

"I am not yelling."

She winked. "But you're blushing."

"And enjoying," he said.

She lifted her arms high, slipped into a simple little sheath dress that came to a point just above her knees.

"I am ready," she announced.

They were approaching the car park when the director hailed them.

"Where do you think you're going, Sheba?" Frank demanded.

"Sightseeing," Sheba said.

"Our insurance does not cover flight in private aircars," Frank said.

"Mine does," Sheba said.

"Sheba, I'm warning you," the director said.

"Frank, I have a commercial license," Vinn said. "That automatically makes the aircar a public carrier."

"You see, love," Sheba said, "there's nothing to worry about."

Inside the aircar, as she settled in and fastened the safety harness she asked, "Really?"

"Really what?"

"Are you really licensed?"

"Oh, yeah. Unlimited, as a matter of fact."

"Anywhere, anytime, any size vessel?"

"I think that's the way it reads."

"I'm impressed anew," she said. "When did you manage to find time to study and get the field experience for that?"

"Well, I got my private license when I was in secondary school. I picked up some navigation hours in college, on field trips. And then I signed on as third mate on a deep space miner for a two year hitch to finish out the required hours."

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Thirty-five."

"Buster, either you're stretching the truth or you were an early starter," she said, disarming the challenge with one of her finest smiles.

"I entered Xanthos U. at fourteen," he said, as he fed power into the flux drive of the aircar and lifted it smoothly up and away in a soaring arc.

The desert began no more than four hundred miles from the location site. The jungle became thinner, was degraded into savanna bushland, and then, just beyond a tall, rocky range of mountains that stored any stray drop of moisture in eternal snows there was the harshness of aridity.

Barren sands and jutting buttes and mesas gave up the glory of their brilliant colors to the setting sun. Vinn slowed the aircar, lowered until they were crawling along just above the rocky terrain. The colorful upthrusts of the landscape towered above them.

"So beautiful," Sheba whispered.

"Pick a spot. We'll land and have our picnic."

"There," she said, pointing to a parched, rocky mesa. "We should have a fine view."

With the sun low the heat of the desert diminished to the level of comfort. With the coming of twilight it would be quite chill. Sheba spread the cloth from the picnic basket, set out the goodies that Vinn had provided, led the way in diving into them with enthusiastic "Ummms" and other brilliant comments such as "ahhhh," and even, "good."

Vinn, too, found his appetite. The sun sank lower. Sheba shivered and Vinn leapt to his feet to drape a warm wrap around her shoulders. He was still on his feet when Sheba lifted her arm, pointed, and said, "Wow, look."

A blaze of fire was sweeping across the cloudless sky from east to west toward the setting sun. Sheba jumped up, put her arm around Vinn's waist. It was over in a few seconds. The fiery object seemed to be coming directly toward them.

It flashed by overhead and the sonic boom jarred them, reverberated in the arid valley below.

"There's going to be one hell of an impact," Vinn whispered, but even as he spoke the object arced upward, drove toward the blue dome of sky, and disappeared.

"Some damned fool just burned off a few hundred thousand credits worth of insulation," Vinn said.

"Wow," Sheba said, her arm still around Vinn.

"Well, there's still dessert," Vinn said.

She ate the frozen delicacy slowly, licking the spoon with evident enjoyment. The sun was below the horizon but left a lingering farewell in the form of a blazing red sky. Sheba finished her dessert, sighed with satisfaction, snugged the shawl around her.

"Thank you," she said. "That sunset is the nicest gift I've had lately."

"It is I who should thank you," he said.

"Oh, well, if you want me to arrange another spectacular sunset for you, just let me know."

"For coming with me," he explained. He spread his hands. "I still can't believe it. Me, having a picnic with Sheba Webster. You and I have grown up together, but with you on the holoscreen. I saw you first when I was sixteen. I spent hours in the library searching out all the films in which you appeared, and I haven't missed one since."

She laughed. "Good Lord, you saw my early efforts and you still like me?"

"Your acting ability developed steadily. Your beauty just ripened, piling flawlessness atop perfection."

She watched the play of crimson fade on the horizon. "Vinn, I understand what you're saying. When you were watching me in three dimensions and glowing color in a holofilm I was—"

"Bigger than life, because I wanted to see you on the big theater screens, not in a small room."

"And untouchable," she went on. She reached across and placed the tips of four fingers on the back of his hand. "But that's just the work that I do. That three-dimensional image is not Sheba Webster, but what she does to earn her daily bread and keep things from being boring." She took his hand in both of hers and squeezed. "This is Sheba Webster. I'm just a woman. I'm real. I have headaches and if I eat unwisely or drink too much.

I have a bad stomach and my breath gets a bit rank. When the day's shooting is over, I go to my cubicle and I can feel loneliness just as deeply as anyone."

He cleared his throat.

"So don't try to make me something I'm not, some object of awe and worship. I'm human, just like you."

"You're put together better than most women, you'll have to admit that."

"Ummm," she said, still holding onto his hand. "I'm glad for that, because it makes me a rich woman and it makes you like me."

"I do, very much."

"Like me?"

"More than that."

"Well, let's not move too fast. Let's take it one step at a time."

"I've never wanted to kiss anyone so badly in my life," he said.

"That's a small step," she said, leaning toward him.

She closed her eyes as his lips touched hers. She had kissed and been kissed many times, on the stage and in real time. She had never been promiscuous. She was not one of those who, in order to achieve her goal, bartered herself to the rich and powerful. From the first she had made it clear to the moguls and powers of the industry that she was not an object of trade, that she was Sheba, and that was enough to earn her her rightful place. She was not virgin, of course. She'd even been married once. That experiment had ended so badly that for many years she had avoided intimate relationships. However, she was a sensual person. She could take delight in good food, good music, a well done drama, and she could, with the right man, be a bawdy, delightful wanton. She wasn't sure—not just yet—whether she wanted to lower her guard enough to let Vinn Stem into her life, but with his lips on hers there was a moment when her libido stirred.

She let him enclose her in his arms. In the chill of the evening his warmth was stimulating. She widened her kiss, felt the hard muscles of his back under her palms, heard her sister Ruth say, "Sheba, Sheba."

"Ummm," she said, slightly annoyed but not questioning.

"Sheba, listen," said her brother David.

"Sheba, we need you," Ruth said.

"Huh?" She pulled away from Vinn's kiss.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said.

The voices were still there, heard dimly in her mind, the words indistinct but imparting a disturbing sense of urgency. She shook her head, gave herself once more to Vinn's kiss and the voices clamored in her head, driving away all hints of pleasure and desire.

"That's one step," she whispered, as she pushed Vinn away.

"I want to see you again," he said.

"Every day, lover," she said, rising.