They spent part of the morning at a pool near the inner end of Nineveh, where diving took on a slow-motion, soaring quality, and the water splashed twice as high as normal. Then June introduced Kieran to the dynamics of Martian tennis, which was something he hadn’t tried before but mastered quickly. Afterward, they lay on a couple of recliners, sipping iced lemonades and basking under an artificial sun. “You should try zero-g football,” Kieran said. “I got into some of the crew’s games in the transport out to Urbek.”
“I’m not sure it would be my style.”
“It’s wild. Three-D—literally bouncing off the walls.”
June turned her head to glance at him. He was sprawled back at ease, lean, supple, firmly muscular. A few yards away, Guinness was being idolized by two female admirers clad in bikinis that were more suggestion than actuality. “So what took you to Urbek Station anyway?” she asked. “What kind of place is it?”
“Oh, another of these experiments in communal living—joy, love, peace to all. A religious sect who say that everything passed off as Christianity since Constantine has been a counterfeit created by Roman imperialism. They put their savings into recreating the world in a hollowed-out asteroid as a place to get it right.” Kieran flicked away a fly that had settled on his arm. The variety of life-forms from Earth that had appeared on Mars somehow without being introduced deliberately was amazing. “But they were being targeted by Belt pirates who saw some easy slave labor that the market could use. When I did some checking, they turned out to be the same ones who hijacked the Far Ranger about a year ago—remember?—and wiped out all those people.”
“Ugh!” June made a face at the recollection.
Kieran raised his eyebrows and shrugged in a way that said nothing could change it now.
“So what were you able to do about it?” June asked.
Kieran’s expression was a masterful study in innocence. “Me? Nothing. But there wasn’t any need, anyway. It seems the unlovely had an accident with some fuel that must have been unstable. Or somebody was very careless. But they won’t be doing any more wiping out—or peddling cheap pickings around the exchanges.”
“How tragic.”
“Extraordinary, really. Can’t understand how it could have happened.”
“I trust that the sect was suitably appreciative,” June said.
“Yes. The elders were happy to make a small donation to the KT retirement fund. But they really do need protection out there. I’ve put them in touch with some suitable people.” Kieran looked away as Guinness came padding back with his latest conquests. “There’s the biggest bandit in the Belt,” he muttered.
“He’s just wonderful!” one of the girls exulted. “What’s his name?”
“You mean he didn’t tell you?” Kieran looked at the dog reprovingly. “Stop acting dumb and giving the ladies a hard time.” Guinness blinked and looked pained.
“He’s Guinness,” June supplied.
“Oh, you mean like the Irish beer,” the other girl said.
“Stout,” Kieran corrected.
“Who?”
“Heavy, black Irish beer. It’s called stout.”
“Oh, really?”
Kieran gave them his standard line about Guinness being part doberman and part labrador, the doberman coming out in the coloring, the face and the temperament being all lab. The girls’ names were Patti and Grace. Patti, it turned out, worked at the Oasis.
“What do you do there?” Kieran asked her.
“It’s kind of a training program. You get moved around to do a bit of everything. Right now I’m working the bar.”
“I might just stop by and say hello sometime,” Kieran mused. “I’m never averse to checking out a new bar.”
“We had dinner there last night,” June put in. “The seafood bar there is good.”
“Yes, everyone seems to like it.”
“In fact, we’re meeting somebody for lunch there later today,” Kieran said. “Maybe we’ll see you?”
Patti shook her head. “Sorry. I’m off until tomorrow.” She glanced at Grace, who was pointing at her watch and mouthing something. “Oh, too bad. I guess we have to go now.”
“See you there sometime, then,” Kieran said.
“Sure . . .” Patti looked back as the two girls walked away. “Make sure to bring Guinness.”