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Ben Bova – Mars. Part four

“So you consoled yourself by taking your turn with our in-house sexual therapist.”

“My turn…?” Jamie’s insides went hollow, as if he had suddenly become weightless.

The grin on Tony’s face was positively evil. “Didn’t you know? Ilona’s decided to have her fun with each of the males aboard. Except for Vosnesensky and Ivshenko, of course. She hates the Russkies. I think she’s doing what she’s doing merely to drive our poor Russian leader and his backup insane with jealousy. It might work, too.”

Jamie felt as if he were gasping for air.

“Now then.” Reed cleared his throat and put on a more serious, professional face. “There’s the matter of your sexual conduct.”

Jamie frowned. “My sexual conduct?”

“I am required to give you standard lecture number double-ought one: sexual responsibility and its consequences.” The grin had come back to Reed’s face.

“Do you give this lecture to Ilona, too?”

“Yes, of course,” He was smirking. “With some variations, of course.”

“Every time?”

“Every time I can.”

Jamie glowered at the Englishman.

“Seriously, James, I must warn you that if your sexual conduct threatens to create a problem aboard ship, it is my duty to report to Dr. Li-and to take certain steps.”

“Make me take saltpeter?”

“Oh, we have much better stuff than saltpeter,” Reed said. “Pharmacology has come a long way. The only trouble is, whatever suppressant we dose you with will shrink your gonads.”

“Shrink…!”

“Can’t be helped. They’ll grow back to normal once the medication is stopped, of course. We won’t castrate you, not even chemically.”

Jamie asked, “What if I won’t take the medication-assuming I’m going to be such a lecher that you’ll want to dose me.”

“Oh, you’ll take it, one way or the other. I can always doctor your meals, you know. Or spike the drinking water. Just as I would do if you refused to take your vitamin supplements. It wouldn’t be difficult.”

Jamie heard himself mutter, “Son of a bitch.”

“That’s exactly what we’re trying to prevent, actually,” said Reed. Then he laughed out loud at his own little joke.

3

“I wish these bunks were just a bit wider.” “You don’t like being so close?” “My arm’s fallen asleep.”

“As long as nothing else on you has gone asleep.”

“So what did you think of our wild Indian?”

“He was quite wild, once he got started.”

“As good as I?”

She laughed softly. “As a famous film star once said, ‘Goodness had nothing to do with it.’ ”

“That completes the roster, doesn’t it? Except for the Russkies.”

“I will not let them touch me!”

“Pity. Poor Mikhail Andreivitch looks as if he’ll explode any day now.”

“Let him. I don’t care.”

“And Ivshenko seems like a jolly chap. Perhaps if I accompanied you we could make a threesome out of it.”

“You’re already complaining about the bunks being too narrow.”

“Um, yes, there is that.”

“I will not approach the Russians. Let them stew in their own juices.”

“But otherwise…”

“Waterman was the last holdout.”

“And now he’s fallen.”

“What about you? How successful have you been?”

“Actually, Katrin and I had a little workout in the gymnasium again.”

“But what about Joanna?”

A long silence.

“Well?”

“One has to be very circumspect with Joanna, you know. I believe she’s still a virgin.”

“Only three women on the ship and you’ve failed with one of them.”

“I’m working on it.”

“I’ve succeeded with every one of the men now.”

“Except the Russians.”

“Pah! You fuck the Russians if you’re so worried about them.”

“Hardly! It’s little Joanna I want.”

“Then you’re going to have to try harder, aren’t you?”

“You mean this isn’t hard enough to suit you?”

“Hmm… well… I suppose it will do for now.”

Hours later, alone and still sleepless, Tony Reed told himself that it was all a game, a pleasant way to pass the boring weeks while they were all packed together inside the spacecraft. We’re harming no one. Except perhaps the Russians, but that’s not my doing. Perhaps Katrin is accommodating them, a little Russo-German friendship pact.

He turned in the bunk, trying to find a more comfortable position. It’s only a game, a delightful game. Yet a deeper voice in his mind reminded him that soldiers on their way to battle play a similar game. Fear is the spur, the voice said to Tony. You go through the motions of creating life because you are so terrified of impending death.

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