the old moon like a ruin in the sky. He'd lean close in the night, her breath fragrant on his cheek, and describe for her the brilliant blue and gold of the archaeopteryx. She'd laugh. He'd take her in his arms. Her lips would part . . .
The song ended. The dancers applauded, and Gen whirled away, as if she hadn't noticed he wanted to kiss her. He felt his face flush. He followed her to one of the paths. "Ms. Faison, I didn't mean--"
In the shadows beneath an olive tree, she turned to him. "Don't kid me, Owen. You men are only after one thing."
Owen panicked. "I don't--"
"All you want is a wedding ring. A woman who doesn't drag you into bed before you trick her to the altar is asking for trouble. You marry us--and the next thing we know you've stayed with us forever. It's tragic."
"But I'm different!" Owen protested. "I don't want to marry you."
"You say that now. But you'll be singing a different tune in the morning, Dr. Nice."
"I'm afraid I don't follow you."
"Just hold onto my hand. I'll lead."
Dizzied by her zig-zag conversation, intoxicated by her perfume, he let himself be led by her along a reflecting pool. "Besides," she said, "how do I know you're who you say your are? You could be a twanked impostor posing as Dr. Owen Vannice, the wealthy paleontologist. How do I know you even have a dinosaur?"
"Meet me for breakfast. I'll take you down to see her."
"Perhaps," Gen said quietly. "Look--" She pointed at the sky. "There's Venus. Isn't it beautiful? It looks exactly the same as it does back home." She locked her arm in Owen's and they followed the path in a wide circle until they found themselves back at the pavilion, and August's table.
"A beautiful evening," August said. "Have you been enjoying yourselves?"
"Owen has been telling me about his life of crime."
"You've lived a life of crime?"
"Your daughter seems to think so. I confess her definition seems a little odd to me."
Gen looked him in the eyes, then turned to her father. "But what does a life of crime amount to today? Just a few lines on his resumé. Owen might as well have been an honest man his entire life. Father, do you think you could take me to that club we heard about?"
"I'm feeling a little tired, dear. I want to check on Pharaoh in the kennel early tomorrow."
"But the night is so beautiful."
"Perhaps Owen here would consider taking you."
"Owen, the master criminal? Would you? I've heard there's wonderful music there."
=Forget it,= Bill whispered. =How many risks are you going to take in one night? Do you think your father purchased me for nothing?=
"You won't stay too late?" August said.
"We'll be careful," Gen replied.
=This city place is rife with hostile historicals,= an edge of hysteria crept into Bill's voice. =Do you think they admire us? That hotel guy is plotting to kill you. What do you know about this crazy dame? You're a scientist, not a dancer!=
"We'll be very careful," Owen said.
#
Owen and Gen passed through hotel security into the streets of the upper city. It was full night, perfumed by flowers and a hot desert wind. Away from the hotel, this Jerusalem resembled that of the unburned universes, with differences. Instead of oil lamps in the windows, he saw battery lamps. A restaurant displayed its name in blue neon. Here and there the roar of a portable air conditioner disturbed the night. From rooftop sleeping terraces came the gabble of Aramaic on portable radios.
Historicals, seeing they were from the hotel, followed them. "Mister, mister, you want the video disk? Got the authentic miracle from Egypt! Got the John the Baptist execute! You buy!"
Owen flung a handful of coins at them and he and Gen broke away down toward the palaces of the high priests. He looked over his shoulder to see the beggars hurrying back to the hotel to await other tourists. From the south wall of the city they looked out at the Valley of Hinnom, over the glare of lights from Holy Land amusement park, where young historicals cruised
The song ended. The dancers applauded, and Gen whirled away, as if she hadn't noticed he wanted to kiss her. He felt his face flush. He followed her to one of the paths. "Ms. Faison, I didn't mean--"
In the shadows beneath an olive tree, she turned to him. "Don't kid me, Owen. You men are only after one thing."
Owen panicked. "I don't--"
"All you want is a wedding ring. A woman who doesn't drag you into bed before you trick her to the altar is asking for trouble. You marry us--and the next thing we know you've stayed with us forever. It's tragic."
"But I'm different!" Owen protested. "I don't want to marry you."
"You say that now. But you'll be singing a different tune in the morning, Dr. Nice."
"I'm afraid I don't follow you."
"Just hold onto my hand. I'll lead."
Dizzied by her zig-zag conversation, intoxicated by her perfume, he let himself be led by her along a reflecting pool. "Besides," she said, "how do I know you're who you say your are? You could be a twanked impostor posing as Dr. Owen Vannice, the wealthy paleontologist. How do I know you even have a dinosaur?"
"Meet me for breakfast. I'll take you down to see her."
"Perhaps," Gen said quietly. "Look--" She pointed at the sky. "There's Venus. Isn't it beautiful? It looks exactly the same as it does back home." She locked her arm in Owen's and they followed the path in a wide circle until they found themselves back at the pavilion, and August's table.
"A beautiful evening," August said. "Have you been enjoying yourselves?"
"Owen has been telling me about his life of crime."
"You've lived a life of crime?"
"Your daughter seems to think so. I confess her definition seems a little odd to me."
Gen looked him in the eyes, then turned to her father. "But what does a life of crime amount to today? Just a few lines on his resumé. Owen might as well have been an honest man his entire life. Father, do you think you could take me to that club we heard about?"
"I'm feeling a little tired, dear. I want to check on Pharaoh in the kennel early tomorrow."
"But the night is so beautiful."
"Perhaps Owen here would consider taking you."
"Owen, the master criminal? Would you? I've heard there's wonderful music there."
=Forget it,= Bill whispered. =How many risks are you going to take in one night? Do you think your father purchased me for nothing?=
"You won't stay too late?" August said.
"We'll be careful," Gen replied.
=This city place is rife with hostile historicals,= an edge of hysteria crept into Bill's voice. =Do you think they admire us? That hotel guy is plotting to kill you. What do you know about this crazy dame? You're a scientist, not a dancer!=
"We'll be very careful," Owen said.
#
Owen and Gen passed through hotel security into the streets of the upper city. It was full night, perfumed by flowers and a hot desert wind. Away from the hotel, this Jerusalem resembled that of the unburned universes, with differences. Instead of oil lamps in the windows, he saw battery lamps. A restaurant displayed its name in blue neon. Here and there the roar of a portable air conditioner disturbed the night. From rooftop sleeping terraces came the gabble of Aramaic on portable radios.
Historicals, seeing they were from the hotel, followed them. "Mister, mister, you want the video disk? Got the authentic miracle from Egypt! Got the John the Baptist execute! You buy!"
Owen flung a handful of coins at them and he and Gen broke away down toward the palaces of the high priests. He looked over his shoulder to see the beggars hurrying back to the hotel to await other tourists. From the south wall of the city they looked out at the Valley of Hinnom, over the glare of lights from Holy Land amusement park, where young historicals cruised
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