She got up, feeling sweaty and naked. Her clothes were on a chair; she found the toiletries pouch and carried it into the bathroom.
After her shower, she opened the connecting door and looked into the other bedroom. The bed was empty; Stone was not there. For some reason, that annoyed her. She dialed the lights up, walked in and browsed through his bureau: shirts, socks, a worn leather wallet stuffed with cash and credit cards. The photograph on the cards made him look like a mugger in a lineup.
In the next drawer she found a pair of red-and-white-striped pajamas, and decided to wear the tops. That was supposed to be sexy. She brushed her hair, put on a little lipstick and eyeliner, and went out into the sunlit living room.
Stone, in his undershorts, was sitting at the window table with a breakfast tray in front of him; he was watching holovision with the sound turned off. "Hey, sleepyhead!" he said. "What happened to you last night?"
"I had to move. You were yelling and thrashing around." She sat down across from him, feeling resentful.
"I was?"
"Yes. Is there any more coffee?"
He poured from the carafe. "Hey, I'm sorry if I spoiled your beauty sleep."
"Do you do that all the time?"
"I don't know. Are you sore?"
"Only in certain places. Just shut up until I drink my coffee, okay?"
Stone took his tray over to the kitchenette area and came back with a Danish pastry on a plate.
"Thanks."
"Is that enough, or do you want some eggs?"
"This is fine."
Stone sat down and watched her eat. "Listen, Thursday I've got to go to Europe, and I'll be gone for ten days. I know you don't like to fly, but it would be great if you could come with me."
"I hate to fly."
"Okay, but could you do it anyway? Could you get the time off?"
"That isn't it, I've got some vacation time coming, but you don't understand. I don't just hate airplanes, they terrify me."
"Oh. Always been that way?"
"No, it started about four years ago. That was when I was breaking up with Anton, and it was a lousy time all around."
"Okay, but you haven't flown since? Not to South America or anywhere? How can you do your job?"
"They were very nice about it; they transferred me to Project Evaluation. Now I just look at the reports."
"Well, listen, will you come out and look at the plane tomorrow? Then if you like it, maybe you could try just a short hop."
"Ed, I told you I can't do it."
He stood up, overturning his chair. "Dammit, won't you even try?"
She could feel the furious tears starting. She got up and headed for the bedroom door, but he caught her and swung her around. "Linda, for Pete's sake-"
"Let me go, you zink! "
He released her and looked puzzled. "What's a zink?"
"Somebody who acts the way you're doing. Do you think you own me, just because we slept together for one night?"
He looked away. "No, I guess I don't."
She went into the bathroom, splashed water on her face, looked at herself in the mirror. Oh, damn. When she came out again, he was still standing there. She put her arms around him and leaned close.
"Our first fight," he said. She nodded against his chest.
He pushed her away far enough to look at her. "Is it over?"
"I think so." They turned and walked back to the table.
"So, what do you want to do with the rest of the day?" he asked.
"There are some great museums. Art galleries. Do you like art?"
"Not much." He stared through the window. "Looks cold out. I guess we could just stay here."
"Okay. Where did you get that underwear?"
"I had it copied in Washington, from a Hong Kong tailor. They can copy anything. I told them I wanted it exactly like mine, and they even put on the same laundry marks. I can't tell which is which any more."
"You planning to show your underwear to a lot of people?"
"No, just you."
"That's good."
"Hey," he said, looking at a huge silvery shape in the holo, "what is that, a zeppelin?"
She glanced at it; it was cruising over Paris toward the Eiffel Tower. "Right. There are seven of them now, the Sachsen II, the Thiiringen, the Bayern, and I forget the rest.''
"Hey, that's great. I always wanted to take a ride on one. If I did, could you come with me?"
"I don't know. It wouldn't be like an airplane, that's for sure."
"Terrific. How long do they take to get to Europe?"
"They don't do that anymore, just sight-seeing cruises over Europe and part of Asia. It used to take about two days to cross the Atlantic, I think."
"Oh, nuts. I couldn't take the time now anyway, but maybe later, if we get a chance?"
"I don't know. Well, do you want me to read your fortune?"
"Sure."
She got her handbag, dumped it on the table, found a memopad and stylus. She swept the rest of the things back into the bag. "Okay, what's your full name?"
"Ed Stone."
"I'll do that one too, but what's your full name, the one you used in school?"
"Edwin L. Stone, but I don't like it. Aren't you going to use cards, or read my palm or something?"
"No, this is numerology. Very scientific." She was writing on the memopad. After a moment she showed it to him.
E D W I N L S T O N E
5 4 5 9 5 3 1 2 6 5 5 = 50 = 5
"What does this mean?"
"Every letter has a number. You add up the numbers and then add them again, like five and zero equals five. That tells you what number you are, and the number tells you what kind of person you are."
"Okay, what kind of person am I?"
"You're bright, you're restless, adventurous, you like weird things. You like to travel and meet people; you don't like to stick to any one job. You'd make a good salesman, and you're sexy. Five is a very good number for a man."
"You knew all that already."
"Sure, but it's right here in the numbers. Now we'll do the other one."
She wrote again and handed him the pad.
E D S T O N E
5 4 1 2 6 5 5 = 28 = 10 = 1
"That's a good number for a man, too. Ones are strong people who know what they want and go for it. They don't let anybody get in their way. They have their own ideas. They make good leaders and inventors."
"That's all different from the first one."
"Sure it is, but they're both you. You shortened the name because you wanted to show a different side of yourself. 'Ed Stone' sounds stronger, doesn't it, than 'Edwin L.'? But the other side is still there."
"What's your number?"
''I'm a three." She smiled. "A very good number for a woman. Now let's see what your important years are. When were you born?"
"March fifteen, nineteen ought one."
"No, really."
"That's when I was born."
"Okay, what the hell. Nineteen oh one adds up to eleven. Add eleven to the date, and you get nineteen twelve, an important year."
"My father died when I was eleven."
"And that made a big difference."
"Sure."
"Okay, nineteen twelve makes thirteen. Add that, and we get nineteen twenty-five."
"I got married that year. "
She looked at him. "Too young."
"Maybe so."
"All right, nineteen twenty-five makes seventeen. Add that, and we get nineteen forty-two, another important year. "
"I never got that far. Maybe it would of been important if I'd got there."
She studied him. "I can't make out if you're conning me or what. Okay, if we just skip the years between nineteen thirty-one and twenty oh two, then nineteen forty-two would be the same as twenty thirteen."