about communal recreation, I took Kay to a public dance and made sure that she obtained a variety of partners. That wasn’t difficult; she stood out among the Earthly girls like a pearl in a heap of diamonds. I’d heard it said by experts that the current generation on Earth was the most physically perfect of all time; we’d been selecting for beauty so long, and enjoyed such a high standard of living, that it was inevitable. I reflected that it was also inevitable for our concept of attractiveness to change. Every other woman in sight was tall, impeccably proportioned – slim-waisted, full-busted – and dressed and coiffed with care and taste. Kay looked skinny beside them, but the sinuous grace she displayed when dancing drew the attention of dozens of men, and after a while she started to preen a little. I couldn’t blame her. I went off to the bar for a drink.
In a way, I told myself as I sipped, the difference between Kay and Patricia matched the difference between Starhome and Earth. Kay was – not hard; that was a false definition. Tough? Wiry, perhaps, with a personality as firm and flexible as the slim body under her light clothes. Patricia was softerand – well – more cuddly: the product of a society stable enough to flower instead of merely growing. Starhome was imbued with a revolutionary spirit dead on Earth these two hundred years.
Funny. I’d never thought of it that way before. I was a fit – opposite of misfit – by my own free choice; at least, I’d always imagined so. I’d had an intellectual comprehension of what life must be like on Starhome, because I dealt in the social assay material our survey missions sent to Earth. But before meeting Kay, I’d never considered this obvious and crucial point: that there must be a lot of people who actively approved and enjoyed that kind of life, or else the society simply couldn’t survive.
It was getting late. I went in search of her and found her surrounded by a swarm of would-be dancing partners. I told her about my rocket, and suggested that she might like to stay on – the dance didn’t close till thirty minutes in the morning, half after midnight.
But she said no, she’d rather I took her home if I had time, so I did. On the way she was bubbling with gratitude for my alleged trouble in giving her such a pleasant evening, and I completely failed to persuade her that it hadn’t after all been a chore in the slightest.
At the door of her apartment she turned to me rather shyly. ‘You’ve been very nice to me, Roald,’ she said. ‘Er – you do things differently from the way we have at home. Isn’t it the custom here that if a man takes a girl out for the evening he – they – well, do you expect to kiss me good night?’
I almost laughed, but fortunately managed to restrain myself. With gravity to match hers, I said, ‘Yes, that is the – the custom. But it’s entirely up to you. If you want to —’
‘I believe I do,’ she said in a small determined voice, and put her arms around me.
Well…
Her mouth was cool and firm, astonishingly different from Patricia’s; the sliding movement of the muscles on her satiny bare shoulders came as a mute reminder that she was probably as strong as I was – again, not like Patricia. And there, I thought wryly, was proof how heavily I’d fallen for Patricia: thinking about her while embracing another girl.
None the less it was with a sensation of great satisfaction that I went to collect my baggage and proceed to the rocketport. After last night, naturally, I was extremely tired; long before the steady pull of the rocket’s acceleration sank me into my couch, I was dozing.
I think I smiled in my sleep.
13
Before I had time to activate the annunciator, the voice rang out from beyond the door.
‘Come in, Roald. Dump your bag in the usual place. I’ll be with you in a moment.’
I had to chuckle. Micky had a phenomenal ear for footsteps; he could identify all his friends before
In a way, I told myself as I sipped, the difference between Kay and Patricia matched the difference between Starhome and Earth. Kay was – not hard; that was a false definition. Tough? Wiry, perhaps, with a personality as firm and flexible as the slim body under her light clothes. Patricia was softerand – well – more cuddly: the product of a society stable enough to flower instead of merely growing. Starhome was imbued with a revolutionary spirit dead on Earth these two hundred years.
Funny. I’d never thought of it that way before. I was a fit – opposite of misfit – by my own free choice; at least, I’d always imagined so. I’d had an intellectual comprehension of what life must be like on Starhome, because I dealt in the social assay material our survey missions sent to Earth. But before meeting Kay, I’d never considered this obvious and crucial point: that there must be a lot of people who actively approved and enjoyed that kind of life, or else the society simply couldn’t survive.
It was getting late. I went in search of her and found her surrounded by a swarm of would-be dancing partners. I told her about my rocket, and suggested that she might like to stay on – the dance didn’t close till thirty minutes in the morning, half after midnight.
But she said no, she’d rather I took her home if I had time, so I did. On the way she was bubbling with gratitude for my alleged trouble in giving her such a pleasant evening, and I completely failed to persuade her that it hadn’t after all been a chore in the slightest.
At the door of her apartment she turned to me rather shyly. ‘You’ve been very nice to me, Roald,’ she said. ‘Er – you do things differently from the way we have at home. Isn’t it the custom here that if a man takes a girl out for the evening he – they – well, do you expect to kiss me good night?’
I almost laughed, but fortunately managed to restrain myself. With gravity to match hers, I said, ‘Yes, that is the – the custom. But it’s entirely up to you. If you want to —’
‘I believe I do,’ she said in a small determined voice, and put her arms around me.
Well…
Her mouth was cool and firm, astonishingly different from Patricia’s; the sliding movement of the muscles on her satiny bare shoulders came as a mute reminder that she was probably as strong as I was – again, not like Patricia. And there, I thought wryly, was proof how heavily I’d fallen for Patricia: thinking about her while embracing another girl.
None the less it was with a sensation of great satisfaction that I went to collect my baggage and proceed to the rocketport. After last night, naturally, I was extremely tired; long before the steady pull of the rocket’s acceleration sank me into my couch, I was dozing.
I think I smiled in my sleep.
13
Before I had time to activate the annunciator, the voice rang out from beyond the door.
‘Come in, Roald. Dump your bag in the usual place. I’ll be with you in a moment.’
I had to chuckle. Micky had a phenomenal ear for footsteps; he could identify all his friends before
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