Flatlander - Larry Niven [111]
She wanted me to show her my imaginary arm. In lunar gravity it was possible to heft the weight of the glass now that it was nearly empty.
She told me about life with Itch. He was savagely jealous and an inconsiderate lover, and he slept with women who looked like genetic failures next to Naomi herself. He had the fragile ego of any half-successful comic.
“So why did you marry him?”
She shrugged.
I spoke before I thought. “Did you like him being jealous? Maybe it kept other men at just the right distance.”
“I didn’t like being slapped around for it!” I was looking for a change of subject when she added, “When I was climbing out of that bathroom window, I swore I’d never let a man father a child on me again. That was even before I knew Miranda was dead.”
“It’s a big thing to give up.”
For an instant her look was wary, secretive. Then, “Maybe I’m a loser in the evolution game. You don’t have children yourself, do you?”
“Not yet.”
“Are you out of the evolution game?”
“Not yet.” I hefted my empty glass in my imaginary hand. “Every so often someone almost kills me. Maybe … maybe it’s time.”
Naomi got up so energetically that for a moment she floated. “Futz this. Let’s see what’s for dinner.”
“There were subjects she shied away from,” I told Taffy.
She was working on my shoulders. “That’s not surprising.”
“Granted. The organ banks, Penzler getting shot at … and children. She chopped that off fast, and that’s not surprising, either, I guess.”
“Gil, you didn’t grill her, did you?”
“No!” But I’d flinched. Guilt? “I only noticed things. I think she lied on the stand. I know she did. But why?”
“She’d have had to be crazy.”
“Yeah. I asked her why she came back to the moon. She said she was in a black mood, and the lifelessness of the moon suited her fine. But she only went out that once. Hovestraydt City isn’t lifeless at all, and she wasn’t staying in her room all that time, either.”
“So?”
I didn’t have an answer.
Taffy said, “I’ll be leaving for Mare Orientale this evening. Marxgrad wants a—”
“Futz!”
“—surgeon with specialty training in the autonomic muscle system. I can learn a lot there. I’m sorry, Gil.”
“Futz, I’m just glad you didn’t go yesterday. I’ll get drunk with Harry.”
“Turn over. Do you want to go to sleep? Here?”
“I don’t know what I want. I thought I didn’t want to talk.”
The lights dimmed. I barely noticed. They brightened again half a minute later, and suddenly I was sitting upright, bug-eyed, sweating.
Taffy said, “The linear accelerator?”
“Yes. She’s on her way. When Luke Garner was a boy, that flicker would have been the electric chair.”
“The what?”
“Skip it.”
“Lie down.” She went to work on my abdomen. “I don’t see why you’re quite this shook up. I had the idea she never even slept with you.”
“No. Well, once.”
“When?”
“About two this morning.”
I’d been a little startled when Naomi had raised the subject. “I’d have thought sex would be the last thing on your mind.”
“But it’s our last chance. Unless you wait six months and then buy the appropriate—” She stopped, horrified.
“Not funny,” I said.
“No. I’m sorry.”
“Maybe you’d rather just be held? Cuddled?”
“No.” She was out of her dress in an instant. I plucked it out of the wind on its way to the air circulation unit. Then I turned to look at her. I had never seen her naked before. It took my breath away. I caught myself thinking, Where were you ten years ago, when I needed you? and was ashamed.
She opened a drawer in the bed table and took out a tube of jell. She was frigid; she was expecting to be frigid; she kept that tube very handy. This was normal for Naomi.
I couldn’t bring her to climax. She faked it very nicely … and didn’t I owe something to the Gil Hamilton of ten years ago? Wouldn’t he have given up a testicle for this night? I made myself enjoy it.
I moved from