But it was Thorn’s reaction that surprised Jill. On seeing Obreno va enter, he had jumped to his feet and opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, then closed it again. His ruddy skin was pale.
“Do you know her?” Jill said softly.
He sat down and covered his face with his hands for a moment.
When he took them away, he said, “No! For a second I thought I did! she looks so much like my first wife! I still can’t believe it.”
Thorn remained shaking in his chair while others crowded around Obrenova. Not until the others had been introduced did he get up and shake her hand. He told her then how remarkably she resembled his wife. She smiled-“dazzlingly” was a cliche, but it was the only adverb appropriate-and she said, in heavily accented English, “Did you love your wife?”
That was a strange thing to say. Thorn stepped back a pace and said, “Yes, very much. But she left me.”
” I am sorry,” Obrenova said, and they did not exchange another word while in the room.
Firebrass sat her down and offered her food, cigarettes, and liquor. She accepted the former but declined the rest.
“Does that mean you have no vices?” Firebrass said. “I was hoping you’d have at least one.”
Obrenova ignored this. Firebrass shrugged and began questioning her. Jill got depressed while listening to the account of her experience. She had been born in Smolensk in 1970, had been educated as an aeronautical engineer, and in 1984 had become an airship trainee. In 2001 she had been made captain of the passenger freighter Lermontov.
Finally, Firebrass said that she must be tired. She should go with Agatha, who’d find quarters for her.
“Preferably in this building,” he said.
Agatha replied that no rooms were available. She would have to be satisfied with a hut near those of Ms. Gulbirra and Mr. Thorn.
Firebrass, looking disappointed, said, “Well, maybe we can find a place here for her later. Meantime, I’ll go with you, Anna, and make sure you’re not given a dump.”
Jill felt even lower. How could she expect objectivity from him, when he was so obviously smitten by the Russian?
For a while, she indulged in some fantasies. How about abducting the little Russian and tying her up in a hidden place just before the Parseval was to take off? Firebrass would not hold up the flight until she was found. Jill Gulbirra would then become first mate.
If she could do that to Obrenova, why not to Firebrass? Then she would be the captain.
The images evoked were pleasing, but she could not do that to anyone, no matter how strongly she felt. To violate their human rights and dignities would be to violate, to destroy herself.
During the week that followed she sometimes beat her fists on the table or wept. Or both. The next week she told herself that she was being immature. Accept what was unavoidable and enjoy what was left. Was it so important that she should finally be captain of an airship?
To her, yes. To anyone else in the world, no.
So she swallowed her resentment and disgust.
Piscator must have known how she felt. Frequently, she caught him looking at her. He would smile or else just look away. But he knew, he knew!
Six months passed. Firebrass gave up trying to get Obrenova to move into his apartment. He made no secret of his desire nor did he hide the fact that she had finally rejected him.
”You win some, you lose some,” he said to Jill with a wry smile. “Maybe she doesn’t go for men. I know a score or more who’ve been panting for her, and she’s as cool to them as if she were the Venus de Milo.”
“I’m sure she isn’t a lesbian,” Jill said.
“Takes one to know one, heh? Haw, haw!”
“Damn it, you know I’m ambivalent,” she said angrily, and she walked away.
“Indecisive is the right word!” he had shouted after her.
At that time Jill was living with Abel Park, a tall, muscular, handsome, and intelligent man. He was a Rivertad, one of the many millions of children who had died on Earth after the age of five. Abel did not remember what country he had been born in or what his native language had been. Though resurrected in an area the majority of whom were medieval Hindus, he had been adopted and raised by a Scots couple. These were eighteenth-century Lowlanders of peasant origin. Despite his poverty, the foster father had managed to become a medical doctor in Edinburgh.