One evening the-scientific staff was giving itself a concerta tri-di hi-fi rendition of
Rigoletto, one of the greatest of the ancient operas, sung by the finest voices Terra had
ever known. The men wore tuxedos. The girls, instead of wearing the nondescript,
non-provocative garments prescribed by the Board for their general wear, were all
dressed to kill.
Sandra had so arranged matters that she and Hilton were sitting in chairs side by side,
with Sandra on his right and the aisle on his left. Nevertheless, Temple Bells sat at his
left, cross-legged on a cushion on the floor-somewhat to the detriment of her gold-lame
evening gown. Not that she cared. When those wonderful voices swung into the
immortal Quartette Temple caught her breath, slid her cushion still closer to Hilton’s
chair, and leaned shoulder and head against him. He put his left hand on her shoulder,
squeezing gently; she caught it and held it in both of hers. And at the Quartette’s
tremendous climax she, scarcely trying to stifle a sob, pulled his hand down and
hugged it fiercely, the heel of his hand pressing bard against her half-bare, firm, warm
breast.
And the next morning, early, Sandra hunted Temple up and said: “You made a horrible
spectacle of yourself last night.” “Do you think so? I don’t.”
“I certainly do. It was bad enough before, letting everybody else aboard know that all
he has to do is push you over. But it was an awful blunder to let him know it, the way
you did last night.”
“You think so? He’s one of the keenest, most intelligent men who ever lived. He has
known that from the very first.” “Oh.” This “oh” was a very caustic one. “That’s the way
you’re trying to land him? By getting yourself pregnant?”
“Uh-uh.” Temple stretched; lazily, luxuriously. “Not only it isn’t, but it wouldn’t work.
He’s unusually decent and extremely idealistic, the same as I am. So just one intimacy
would blow everything higher than up. He knows it. I know it. We each know that the
other knows it. So I’ll still be a virgin when we’re married.”
“Married! Does he know anything about that?”
“I suppose so. He must have thought of it. But what difference does it make whether
he has, yet or not? But to get back to what makes him tick the way he does. In his
geometry which is far from being simple Euclid, my dear-a geodesic right line is not only
the shortest distance between any two given points, but is the only possible course. So
that’s the way I’m playing it. What I hope he doesn’t know . . . but he probably does . . .
is that he could take any other woman he might want, just as easily. And that includes
you, my pet.”
“It certainly does not!” Sandra flared. “I wouldn’t have him as a gift!”
“No?” Temple’s tone was more than slightly skeptical. “Fortunately, however, he
doesn’t want you. Your technique is all wrong. Coyness and mock-modesty and
stop-or-I’ll scream and playing hard to get have no appeal whatever to his psychology.
What he needs-has to have-is full, ungrudging cooperation.”
“Aren’t you taking a lot of risk in giving away such secrets?”
“Not a bit. Try it. You or the sex-flaunting twins or Bev Bell or Stella the Henna. Any of
you or all of you. I got there first with the most, and I’m not worried about competition.”
“But suppose somebody tells him just how you’re playing him for a sucker?”
“Tell him anything you please. He’s the first man I ever loved, or anywhere near. And
I’m keeping him. You know or do you, I wonder?-what real, old-fashioned, honest-to–
God love really is? The willingness-eagerness-both to give and to take? I can accept
more from him, and give him more in return, than any other woman living. And I am
going to.” “But does he love you?” Sandra demanded.
“If he doesn’t now, he will. I’ll see to it that he does. But what do you want him for? You
don’t love him. You never did and you never will.”
“I don’t want him!” Sandra stamped a foot.
“I see. You just don’t want me to have him. Okay, do your damnedest. But I’ve got work
to do. This has been a lovely little cat-clawing, hasn’t it? Let’s have another one some
day, and bring your friends.”
With a casual wave of her hand, Temple strolled away; and there flashed through
Sandra’s mind what Hilton had said so long ago, little more than a week out from Earth:
” . . . and Temple Bells, of course,” he had said. “Don’t fool yourself, chick. She’s heavy
artillery; and I mean heavy, believe me!”
So he had known all about Temple Bells all this time!
Nevertheless, she took the first opportunity to get Hilton alone; and, even before the
first word, she forgot all about geodesic right lines and the full-cooperation
psychological approach.
“Aren’t you the guy,” she demanded, “who was laughing his head off at the idea that
the Board and its propinquity could have any effect on him?”
“Probably. More or less. What of it?”
“This of it. You’ve fallen like a . . . a freshman for that . . . that . . . they should have
christened her ‘Brazen’ Bells!”
“You’re so right.” “I am? On what?”
“The ‘Brazen.’ I told you she was a potent force-a full-scale powerhouse, in sync and
on the line. And I wasn’t wrong.” “She’s a damned female Ph.D.-two or three times-and
she knows all about slipsticks and isotopes and she very definitely is not a cuddly little
brunette. Remember?”
“Sure. But what makes you think I’m in love with Temple Bells?”
“What?” Sandra tried to think of one bit of evidence, but could not. “Why . . . why . . .”
She floundered, then came up with: “Why, everybody knows it. She says so herself.”
“Did you ever hear her say it?”
“Well, perhaps not in so many words. But she told me herself that you were going to be,
and I know you are now.” “Your esper sense of endovix, no doubt.” Hilton laughed and
Sandra went on, furiously:
“She wouldn’t keep on acting the way she does if there weren’t something to it!”
“What brilliant reasoning! Try again, Sandy.” “That’s sheer sophistry, and you know it!”
“It isn’t and I don’t. And even if, some day, I should find myself in love with her-or with
one or both of the twins or Stella or Beverly or you or Sylvia, for that matter-what would
it prove? Just that I was wrong; and I admit freely that I was wrong in scoffing at
propinquity. Wonderful stuff, that. You can see it working, all over the ship. On me,
even, in spite of my bragging. Without it I’d never have known that you’re a better,
smarter operator than Eggy Eggleston ever was or ever can be.”
Partially mollified despite herself, and highly resentful of the fact, Sandra tried again.
“But don’t you see, Jarve, that she’s just simply playing you for a sucker? Pulling the
strings and watching you dance?”
Since he was sure, in his own mind, that she was speaking the exact truth, it took
everything he had to keep from showing any sign of how much that truth had hurt.
However, he made the grade.
“If that thought does anything for you, Sandy,” he said, steadily, “keep right on thinking
it. Thank God, the field of thought is still free and open.”
“Oh, you . . .” Sandra gave up.
She had shot her heaviest bolts-the last one, particularly, was so vicious that she had
actually been afraid of what its consequences might be-and they had not even dented
Hilton’s armor. She hadn’t even found out that he had any feeling whatever for Temple
Bells except as a component of his smoothly functioning scientific machine.
Nor did she learn any more as time went on. Temple continued to play flawlessly the
part of being-if not exactly hopefully, at least not entirely hopelessly-in love with Jarvis
Hilton. Her conduct, which at first caused some surprise, many conversations-one of
which has been reported verbatim-and no little speculation, became comparatively
unimportant as soon as it became evident that nothing would come of it. She apparently
expected nothing. He was evidently not going to play footsie with, or show any
favoritism whatever toward, any woman aboard the ship.
Thus, it was not surprising to anyone that, at an evening show, Temple sat beside
Hilton, as close to him as she could get and as far away as possible from everyone
else.
“You can talk, can’t you, Jarvis, without moving your lips and without anyone else
hearing you?”
“Of course,” he replied, hiding his surprise. This was something completely new and
completely unexpected, even from unpredictable Temple Bells.
“I want to apologize, to explain and to do anything I can to straighten out the mess I’ve