of life."
And he knew that it was—not for her, but for him. There were two ways of looking at the AMS society, he decided. Some people buried themselves in quivering flesh. Others, if they were very lucky, found themselves there. And, for awhile, Mike Winston gloried in the paradox of sexual love; and he lost himself to the problems of the || world, and found himself in the problems of two very | lonely people.
At eleven o'clock he told her, "My God!" with a longdrawn sigh.
Her head was nuzzled into his shoulder, her rhythmic breathing was traveling through his flesh in some strange 3 osmosis of empathy. She stirred, traced the outline of his jaw with an exploring fingertip, moaned softly, and moved j her face onto his chest.
"I'll take half of that any time," she murmured.
"Then I think we ought to get married," he announced j lazily.
"Some things we just don't joke about, my love," she said languidly.
"I wasn't joking."
"You mean a real true-blue AMS card in the slot | ceremony?"
"Yeah, even that," he said, sighing.
"Okay."
"Okay? Is that all? Okay?"
She giggled. "Okay, I'll marry you. But you'll have to give me time to prepare. At least ten minutes."
He rubbed a hand lightly across her hip and told her, "I'm serious, Becky."
She said, "Okay, serious, tell me about Leslie, your other love."
He sighed. "Leslie was a fracto. She died tragically at the uncomely age of twenty-two. And I've mourned her long enough."
She had raised up to peer into his eyes. "Did you say fracto?"
"Uh huh. That's what killed her. She didn't know it until the day before we were to be married. She jumped out of a window on the 20th floor of the Eisenhower Building." He sighed. "And I guess I've been leaping out that same window every day since."
The light mood between them had vanished. Becky moaned, "Oh Michael."
He said, "One of life's little cruelties. Didn't even get a newspaper mention. It was during the Arlington purge of '92.1 was with the justice Department then, and she was an adorable little thing in the programming section." A muscle worked in his jaw and he added, "I told her it didn't matter to me. It did, of course. But not that much. It wasn't that she was any better looking than the average woman. You've got it all over her in the body-beautiful department. And, let's face it, you're probably twice the woman Leslie would have ever been. But there was ... I don't know, something about the way she carried herself. The tilt of her head ... a sort of vibrant something ... a fire, I guess, an inner fire. She just stood out. In my vision, anyway. I loved her very deeply, I think. Think, hell. I loved her like the flowers love the sun."
"What did the purge of '92 have to do with it? I thought that was a subversives' purge."
He reached beyond her and snared a cigarette and lit it, then watched the smoke drift away and said, "Well, that was when the Asian panics began. And there was some sort of nutty fear about the Asian-African pact. All the blacks in government service were given the fine-sieve treatment, especially those in the military arms and in those civil branches regarded as quote sensitive unquote. Justice was regarded as one of those. I was on Harold Postum's staff then, that was in the days before FPB. They would not have checked Leslie so closely if it hadn't been known that she was engaged to marry me." He exhaled a long column of smoke. "They found a nigger in the woodpile, four generations back. They call that an octoroon. And they told me that the Attorney General's number one man could not be married to an octoroon. So I told the Attorney General what to do with his job. I begged them—I mean I begged them to not tell Leslie. But they had to. The AMS override, see. They had to classify her as an Aunty Tom. She fell apart. I tried to hold her together, and I thought I almost had it whipped. Then Postum called her in and told her what she was doing to my quote fine career unquote. And she went right out
And he knew that it was—not for her, but for him. There were two ways of looking at the AMS society, he decided. Some people buried themselves in quivering flesh. Others, if they were very lucky, found themselves there. And, for awhile, Mike Winston gloried in the paradox of sexual love; and he lost himself to the problems of the || world, and found himself in the problems of two very | lonely people.
At eleven o'clock he told her, "My God!" with a longdrawn sigh.
Her head was nuzzled into his shoulder, her rhythmic breathing was traveling through his flesh in some strange 3 osmosis of empathy. She stirred, traced the outline of his jaw with an exploring fingertip, moaned softly, and moved j her face onto his chest.
"I'll take half of that any time," she murmured.
"Then I think we ought to get married," he announced j lazily.
"Some things we just don't joke about, my love," she said languidly.
"I wasn't joking."
"You mean a real true-blue AMS card in the slot | ceremony?"
"Yeah, even that," he said, sighing.
"Okay."
"Okay? Is that all? Okay?"
She giggled. "Okay, I'll marry you. But you'll have to give me time to prepare. At least ten minutes."
He rubbed a hand lightly across her hip and told her, "I'm serious, Becky."
She said, "Okay, serious, tell me about Leslie, your other love."
He sighed. "Leslie was a fracto. She died tragically at the uncomely age of twenty-two. And I've mourned her long enough."
She had raised up to peer into his eyes. "Did you say fracto?"
"Uh huh. That's what killed her. She didn't know it until the day before we were to be married. She jumped out of a window on the 20th floor of the Eisenhower Building." He sighed. "And I guess I've been leaping out that same window every day since."
The light mood between them had vanished. Becky moaned, "Oh Michael."
He said, "One of life's little cruelties. Didn't even get a newspaper mention. It was during the Arlington purge of '92.1 was with the justice Department then, and she was an adorable little thing in the programming section." A muscle worked in his jaw and he added, "I told her it didn't matter to me. It did, of course. But not that much. It wasn't that she was any better looking than the average woman. You've got it all over her in the body-beautiful department. And, let's face it, you're probably twice the woman Leslie would have ever been. But there was ... I don't know, something about the way she carried herself. The tilt of her head ... a sort of vibrant something ... a fire, I guess, an inner fire. She just stood out. In my vision, anyway. I loved her very deeply, I think. Think, hell. I loved her like the flowers love the sun."
"What did the purge of '92 have to do with it? I thought that was a subversives' purge."
He reached beyond her and snared a cigarette and lit it, then watched the smoke drift away and said, "Well, that was when the Asian panics began. And there was some sort of nutty fear about the Asian-African pact. All the blacks in government service were given the fine-sieve treatment, especially those in the military arms and in those civil branches regarded as quote sensitive unquote. Justice was regarded as one of those. I was on Harold Postum's staff then, that was in the days before FPB. They would not have checked Leslie so closely if it hadn't been known that she was engaged to marry me." He exhaled a long column of smoke. "They found a nigger in the woodpile, four generations back. They call that an octoroon. And they told me that the Attorney General's number one man could not be married to an octoroon. So I told the Attorney General what to do with his job. I begged them—I mean I begged them to not tell Leslie. But they had to. The AMS override, see. They had to classify her as an Aunty Tom. She fell apart. I tried to hold her together, and I thought I almost had it whipped. Then Postum called her in and told her what she was doing to my quote fine career unquote. And she went right out
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