I reached out and took her hand. “Look… I hope you don’t mind. I mean, if you’re not doing anything this weekend, would you like to come up to Magenta? See the Mantis? I’ll give you a guided tour.”
Her smile expanded as I spoke and her eyes glowed. She said, almost before I’d finished, “Of course I would, David. That’d be great.” She leaned forward, kissed my cheek, then slipped from the cab and hurried up the steps to her apartment.
I sank back into the seat as the cab carried me up the coast, smiling to myself all the way.
— FOUR —
I spent all Saturday morning cleaning the Mantis. I have my friends around roughly once a week for a meal and between times I let my domestic duties slip. That morning I scrubbed and cleaned, re-arranged the furniture several times, and even played half a dozen different music-needles on the ship’s sound system◦– eventually selecting some mood jazz from one of the colonies. Afterwards I sat on the balcony with a beer and considered Hannah van Harben, slim and blonde and smiling in my mind’s eye, and wondered if I were investing too much emotion in the relationship at this early stage.
There was a time, a few years ago, when I might have held back from getting too involved with a beautiful woman. But I had been on Chalcedony for more than seven years now, with only one intimate relationship to boast of.
That brought me up short. What had Darius Dortmund said, just the other day, about my being lonely…?
That train of thought was interrupted by the chime of my com. I answered, dreading that it might be Hannah calling with some excuse not to visit.
Maddie smiled out of the tiny screen. “David. We’re going to the Jackeral for lunch today. Matt’s managed to drag himself away from the exhibition. We were wondering if you’d like to join us?”
“Well… Hannah’s coming up at midday. I’m not sure what we’ll be doing. I’ll see what she says.”
Maddie beamed at me. “Play it by ear. Come if she’d like to. We’ll be there around one.”
I smiled. “I’ll do that, Maddie.”
“Hannah’s a nice person, David. I hope it goes well.”
“I’ll second that. Catch you later.”
I cut the connection and scanned the section of the coast road observable from the balcony.
Thirty minutes later a silver two-seater drove into view, pulled off the road and eased itself to a halt beside the Mantis.
I left the ship and was approaching the car when Hannah climbed out.
She held out her hands to me and I took them. We kissed cheeks, my heart racing, and I backed off and swept my arm in a gesture taking in the squat bulk of the starship. “Well, what do you think?”
“As beachside domiciles go, David, it’s pretty damned striking. There was no mistaking it for any old villa when I came up the coast road. I like the colour scheme.”
I’d recently had it repainted in the red and silver livery of the Charlesworth Line. I told her this, and went on, “I often watched their ships take off and land at Vancouver spaceport.” I shrugged and slapped the ship’s flank. “This brings back memories. Anyway, come inside. I’ll show you around.”
We walked up the ramp and took the elevator to the second floor, which consisted of the bridge, now a lounge, a small kitchen and a couple of spacious bedrooms, which I guess had been the crew’s quarters back when the ship had flown between the stars.
She stood in the centre of the lounge and turned, wide-eyed. “David… why, this is magnificent. I love the décor.”
“All my own work,” I said. “Actually, that’s a lie. Maddie helped me out.”
On Maddie’s suggestion I’d repainted the bulkhead cream and the curving walls of the nose cone a pale jade; I’d hung the walls with tapestries and prints from all over the Expansion. A smoke sculpture from Yho, Betelgeuse III, played in one corner, and opposite stood a canted slab of emotion crystal, a gift from Matt.
Hannah tipped her head to one side, smiling her delicious, curved-lip smile. “Even the music’s wonderful. Isn’t it something from Tourmaline in Vega?”
“You like it? It’s among my favourites.”
“I love the stuff coming out of Tourmaline at the moment.”
We chatted about music for a while. I asked if she wanted a drink, and poured a couple of beers. We drank them on the balcony, looking out over the magenta sands and the calm circle of the bay.
She curled up on a recliner and smiled at me. “Tell me, David. How do you spend your time?”
Déjà vu…
Two years ago, Carlotta Chakravorti-Luna had asked me the very same question. I banished her ghost and answered, “I lead a simple life, Hannah. I walk, read, see my friends a lot.” I slapped my stomach. “I probably spend more time at the Jackeral than’s good for me.”
“A simple life’s good, David. That’s what I hope to find here.”
“I suspect it’ll be a bit quieter than Rotterdam, anyway.”
She nodded. “Much. Rotterdam was intense. Do you know how many murders there were on Chalcedony last year?”
I blew out my lips. “On the entire planet? The population’s what… ten million? I don’t know… Fifty?”
“Five,” Hannah said. “Five. Can you imagine that? There are fifty killings in Rotterdam alone every weekend.”
“No wonder you opted for the quiet life.” I paused, then said, “I just hope you don’t find it too quiet.”
She shook her head. “I never liked big cities. The coast here ha s everything◦– great scenery, big-enough towns and cities, galleries and a thriving artists’ community. And if the Jackeral is as good as you claim…”
“It’s my spiritual home, Hannah. Speaking of which… Maddie called earlier. She and Matt and the others are having lunch there. I didn’t know if you’d want to join them…?”
“Why not? That would be lovely. But afterwards, David, would you drive me into the hills and show me the falls?”
“I’d be delighted,” I said, feeling just about as wonderful as it was possible to feel. “Right, I hope you have an appetite.”
Matt and Maddie, Hawk and Kee were already at the Jackeral when we arrived. They’d claimed the corner table on the patio overlooking the bay and had started on the beer.
“David, Hannah,” Matt said. “Great you could make it.”
“Try keeping us away.” I dragged up a couple of chairs. “We haven’t been out as a group at the Jackeral for ages.”
“That’s my fault,” Matt admitted to Hannah as she sat beside him. “I dragged Hawk and Kee off to Epiphany over a month ago.”
Kee leaned forward, staring large-eyed at Hannah. Kee was in her thirties, but looked about fifteen. For the most part, Hawk’s liaison with a member of the native aliens was accepted by humans and Ashentay alike; only the occasional off-world tourist had commented adversely.
Now Kee said, “But it was magnificent, Hannah! I think Chalcedony◦– or rather Ashent, as we call it◦– is beautiful, but then it is my planet, yes? But Epiphany might even be more beautiful.”
“Then it must be some place,” Hannah said.
I raised my glass. “To old friends,” I said, and smiling at Hannah, “and to new. Cheers.”
We drank, and Maddie fell into conversation with Hannah while I asked Matt how the exhibition was going. “We were there last night. Had to queue to get in.”
“It’s been the most popular thing I’ve done for years,” he said. “It’s just a pity that Dortmund’s shown up.”
Conversation around the table ceased at the sound of his name. “What is it with him?” I asked. “He was there again last night, sampling the stones for a few seconds then moving on.”
Maddie said, “Apparently he’s been doing that all day today too.”