“The city?” Charles asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “The city.”
His next suggestion, preceded by a moment of perplexed reflection, was that we should go to his room. “I could order tea or wine.”
“I’ve had enough of both,” I said. “Can we get some mineral water?”
“Probably,” Charles said. “Durrey sits on a pretty fine aquifer. This whole area lies on pre-Tharsis karst.”
We took a small cab to the opposite arc, hotels and temp quarters for Shinktown’s real source of income, the students.
I don’t remember anticipating much of anything as we entered Charles’s room. There was nothing distinguished about the decor — inexpensive, clean, maintained by arbeiters, with no nano fixtures; pleasant shades of beige, soft green, and gray. The bed could hold only one person comfortably. I sat on the bed’s corner. It occurred to me suddenly that by going this far, Charles might expect something more. We hadn’t even kissed yet, however, and the agreement had been that we come here to talk.
Still, I wondered how I would react if Charles made a move.
“I’ll order the water,” he said. He took two steps beside the desk, unsure whether to seat himself on the swing-out chair or the edge of the bed beside me. “Gassed or plain?”
“Plain,” I said.
He set his slate on the desk port and placed an order. “They’re slow. Should take about five minutes. Old arbeiters,” he said.
“Creaky,” I said.
He smiled, sat on the chair, and looked around. “Not much luxury,” he said. “Can’t afford more.” The one chair, a small net and com desk, single drop-down bed with its thin blanket, vapor bag behind a narrow door, sink and toilet folded into the wall behind a curtain — all squeezed into three meters by four.
I casually wondered how many people had had sex in this room, and under what circumstances.
“We could spend years trying to figure out Sean and Gretyl,” Charles said. “I don’t want you to think I’ve forgotten what happened.”
“Oh, no,” I said.
“But I’ve got too much else to ponder, really.” He used the word in a kind of self-parody, to deflate the burden it might carry. “I can’t worry about the mistakes we made.”
“Did we make mistakes?” I asked. I smoothed some wrinkles in the thin blanket.
“I think so.”
“What mistakes?” I led him on, angry again but hiding it.
Charles finally pulled out the chair and sat with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. “We should choose our leaders more carefully,” he said.
“Do you think Sean was a bad leader?”
“You said he was ‘monstrous,’ ” Charles reminded me.
“Things went wrong for all of us,” I said. “If they had gone better, everything might have turned out differently.”
“You mean, if Connor and Dauble hadn’t hung themselves, we might have provided the noose.”
“It seems likely.”
“I suppose that’s what Sean and Gretyl were trying to do,” Charles said.
“All of us,” I added.
“Right. But what would we have done after that? What did Sean really want to accomplish?”
“In the long ran?” I asked.
“Right,” Charles said. He was revealing a capacity I hadn’t seen before. I was curious to see how far this new depth extended. “I think they wanted anarchy.”
I frowned abruptly.
He looked at me and his face stiffened. “But I didn’t really — ”
“Why would they want anarchy?”
“Sean wants to be a leader. But he can never be a consensus leader.”
“Why not?”
“He has the appeal of a LitVid image,” Charles said. How could he not see how much he was irritating me? I felt a perversity again; I wanted him to anger me, so I could deny him what he had come here to gain, that is, my favors.
“Shallow?”
“I’m sorry, this is upsetting you,” Charles said softly, kneading his hands. “I know you liked Sean. It makes me… I didn’t want to bring you here to — ”
The door chimed. Charles opened it and an arbeiter entered, carrying a bottle of Durrey Region Prime Drinking Water, Mineral. Charles handed me a glass and sat again.
“I really don’t want to talk politics,” he said. “I’m not very good at it.”
“We came here to talk about what went wrong,” I persisted. “I’m curious to hear you out.”
“You disagree with me.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But I want to hear what you have to say.”
Charles’s misery became obvious in the set of his jaw, drawn in defensively toward his neck, and the way he clenched his hands. “All right,” he said. I could sense him giving up, assuming I was out of his reach, and that added to my irritation. Such presumption!
“What kind of leader would Sean be?”
“A tyrant,” Charles said softly. “Not a very good one. I don’t think he has what it takes. Not enough charm at the right time, and he can’t keep his feelings under control.”
My anger evaporated. It was the strangest feeling; I agreed with Charles. That was the monstrousness I was trying to understand.
“You’re a better judge of human nature than you think,” I said with a sigh. I leaned back on the bed.
He shrugged sadly. “But I’ve fapped up,” he said.
“How?”
“I want to know you better. I feel something really special when I see you.”
Intrigued, I was about to continue with my infernal questioning — How? What do you mean? — when Charles stood up. “But it’s useless. You haven’t liked me from the start.”
I gaped at him.
“You think I’m awkward, I’m not in the least like Sean, and that was who you’d set your sights on… And now I seem to be putting him down.”
“Sean doesn’t appeal to me,” I said, eyes downcast in what I hoped was demure honesty. “Certainly not after what he said.”
“I’m sorry,” Charles said.
“Why are you always apologizing? Sit down, please.”
Neither of us had touched our mineral water.
Charles sat. He lifted his glass. “You know, this water has been sitting for a billion years, locked in limestone… Old life. That’s what I’d really like to be doing. Besides getting the physics grants and starting research, I mean. Going Up and exploring the old sea beds. Not talking politics. I need someone to come with me and keep me company. I thought maybe you’d like to do that.” Charles looked up, then rushed his proposal out breathlessly. “Klein BM has an old vineyard about twenty kilometers from here. I could borrow a tractor, show you the — ”
“A winery?” I asked, startled.
“Failed. Converted to a water station. Not much more than a trench dome, but there are good fossil beds. Maybe the old discarded vintage has mellowed by now and we could try to gag it down.”
“Are you asking?” I felt a sudden warmth so immediate and unexpected that it brought moisture to my eyes. “Charles, you surprise me.” I surprised myself. Then, eyes downcast again, “What are you expecting?”
“You might like me better away from this place. I don’t fit into Shinktown, and I don’t know why I came here. I’m glad I did, of course, because you’re here, but…”
“An old winery. And… going Up again?”
“In proper pressure suits. I’ve done it often enough. I’m pretty safe to be with.“ He pointed his finger Up. ”I’m no LitVid idol, Casseia. I can’t sweep you off your feet.“
I pretended not to hear that. “I’ve never gone fossiling,” I said. “It’s a lovely idea.”
Charles swallowed and quickly decided to press on. “We could leave now. Spend a few days. Wouldn’t cost much — my BM isn’t rich, but we’d borrow equipment nobody’s using now. No problem with the oxygen budget. We can bring hydrogen back for a net gain. I can call and tell the station to warm up for us.”
This was something slightly wicked and hugely unexpected and quite lovely. Charles would never pressure me to go one step farther than I wanted. It was perfect.