She turned to face him and her expression was mocking. “But you bear the Galactic Medal of Honor.”
He let air out of his lungs.
“And, besides,” she said, still mockingly, “who’s seducing whom?”
XII
When they awoke the next morning, she turned to him and said, “Would you consider marrying me?”
He stared over at her. “What?”
“I said, would you consider marrying me?”
“It never occurred to me. Why would someone in your position want to?”
She put her slim hands behind her head and stared up at the ceiling. “Why not? You’re nice looking and possibly the most eligible young man in the Solar System. You’re good in bed and… I like you.”
“And you’re one of the richest heiresses going. How come you haven’t already married? Surely you must have had a lot of opportunity.”
“Because I’m one of the richest heiresses in the system. Do you realize what that means? Half of the young men I meet would like to marry me for my money. The other half would like to marry me because they are already rich but would like to merge their fortune with mine and emerge possibly the most financially powerful magnate in the solar system. I never meet a man I don’t suspect of one of those two alternatives.”
“Why me?” Don Mathers was bewildered.
“Because you have proven that you have no interest in money. If you had you wouldn’t be contributing your efforts voluntarily, without even pay, to what will possibly be the largest single corporation in the system. I will know, if you marry me, that it is because you love me and want me—no other motivation.”
Don remained silent for a long moment. This was one for the book. It’d certainly be a joke on old Demming if he did marry the girl. The bastard had squeezed Don out of the stock ownership.
She misunderstood his silence and said, a shy quality there that didn’t go with her usual aristocratic aloofness, “I’m not pressing you. I realize that you’ve got to think it over. You hardly know me and you’ve already mentioned that it has only been a couple of months since your engagement was broken. And you must remember that very likely she now regrets it, since you are the toast of the race.”
That hadn’t occurred to Don Mathers. That Dian Keramikou might now be seeing him in a new light. Now that he did think about it, he realized that very possibly, there on Callisto, Dian was having people ask for her autograph, in view of the fact that she had once been engaged to him. He almost laughed.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed to the floor and sat up. He had to play this very earnestly now, no matter what decision he made.
He said, “You’re very sweet Alicia, and certainly this has been the most memorable night I have ever spent. However, as you say, we hardly know each other. I suggest that we both think about it.”
She remained in the bed, one of the black sheets up to her neck, as he went into the bath and showered and used depilatory on his face.
She watched him, her startling green eyes thoughtful, as he went to the closet for his clothes.
When he brought the uniform forth, she said, “Oh, good heavens, Don. You don’t want to wear that again. Just leave it there. One of the servants will pick up after you. There’s an order box in the dressing room, over there. Order fresh clothing.”
He looked at her. “I’ve only worn it once.”
“Once is enough,” she said, yawning.
“Don’t you ever wear anything more than once?”
“Seldom,” she said. “Only if it has some sentimental value, or something.”
He shrugged and went into the dressing room, to the screen of the large order box, and verbally ordered a fresh colonel’s uniform and the haberdashery to go with it.
When he had dressed, he went back to the bedroom and bent over and kissed her. If anything, she looked more beautiful than ever with her hair mussed every which way and her cosmetics a victim of the night’s tussling.
“Thank you,” he said simply and turned and left.
In the living room he approached the elevator door which opened automatically at his approach. Before he could say anything into the screen, it said, “There is a message for you, Colonel Mathers. A hover-limousine awaits you on the lawn.”
He had planned to go down to the motor pool in the basements of the Interplanetary Lines Building and take a hovercab to the space base.
But he said, “All right. Take me there.” He probably would have had his work cut out finding his way from the building. It was possibly small by the standards that applied to Lawrence Demming, but it was a labyrinth to Don Mathers.
The compartment moved sideways, for not too great a way, and then the door opened. He found himself looking out upon the extensive gardens, the groves of trees and the lawns, of the unbelievable park Demming had built atop his building.
He wasn’t too far from the terrace upon which he had first met Demming and Rostoff. The hover-limousine was even parked in approximately the same spot.
Cockney was standing next to the vehicle, holding the rear door open. His partner was up front at the controls.
Frank Cockney, his bluish lips in his thin face trying to make with a smile, said, “Good morning, Colonel Mathers. We’ve been instructed to take you to the base.”
“All right,” Don said, getting in.
The other hesitated before saying, “And congratulations on your victory, Colonel. There’s never been anything like that before. Ever.”
“Thanks,” Don said. So these two weren’t in on the secret either. Which was good, of course. It would seem that they were part of Demming’s security staff. Bodyguards, in other words.
Cockney got into the front, next to the other goon and the vehicle took to the air in a swoop.
On the way to the base, Frank Cockney turned and said to Don, “You know, Colonel. I never would have dreamed when we saw you that last time, you’d wind up the biggest hero in the solar system.”
“Neither did I,” Don said.
Cockney said, “You know, I never could figure out why Mr. Demming wanted to talk to you. He must’ve had some instinct, like, that big things were going to happen to you.”
“He’s a smart man, all right.”
Cockney frowned, as though in puzzlement. “But how could he have known you’d pull the big one, and finally it’d wind up with this big corporation?”
“What big corporation?” Don said warily.
“Oh, everybody knows about that.”
Don said, making it clear he didn’t want to continue the conversation. “It’s still unannounced.
We’re supposed to keep everything quiet for the time.”
Cockney said, “Yes, sir. I wasn’t trying to pry.” He turned back in his seat, obviously unhappy.
Don had expected to be left off at the main gate and to have to proceed to the administration buildings on a hovercart, but to his surprise the limousine flew right onto the base grounds. Evidently, Demming’s vehicles had clearance.
“Where to, Colonel?” Cockney said.
“To the Space Command Headquarters, Third Division. It’s over…”
“Yes, sir,” the pilot said, his voice as expressionless as his heavy face. “I know where it is.” Don remembered his name, Bil Golenpaul.
They slithered up before the main entry of the administration building and Golenpaul set it down, gently. If nothing else, he was a competent pilot.
Cockney popped out and ran around to open Don’s door.
“Yes, sir,” he said. “We’ll wait, right here.”
Don said, “No. Go on back. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”
“Our orders were to wait and bring you back, when you got through with your business, Colonel Mathers.”
Don looked at him. “And my orders are that you get out of here. I’m not sure that I’m going back. Not immediately.”