O’Donnell knew the first person was Dan and the second person was Jaeckle, but he refrained from embarrassing her.
“I’ve been taught to think in absolutes,” he said. “Black and white, yes and no. One drink or one snort and I’ll be hell-bent for death and destruction. But when it comes to affairs of the heart, even I know that there are no absolutes. One day’s great idea is another day’s dumb mistake.”
He grinned at her. “Some people say we react to the chemicals in our brains. Some believe in true love. Whatever, the situation can be as unpredictable as hell. You make decisions based on constantly changing conditions. It’s worse than trying to predict the weather. But when you find yourself in a condition like the one you’re in, there’s only one reliable barometer.” He patted her stomach. “How does this feel?”
“Like I have a fist in it,” said Lorraine.
“You don’t like the decision you made.”
“I know that,” said Lorraine. “What can I do about it?”
“Right now, nothing,” he said. “You can’t force these decisions. It’s like trying to seed clouds. You can’t seed them if they don’t exist. You have to wait for the right time.”
“When is that?”
“Hard to say,” said O’Donnell. “But I do know one thing. The time always comes. They always come back.”
Lance’s innards trembled as he performed his daily inspection in the logistics module. The entire station seemed to be seething with a sexuality he had never noticed. The slender pipes looping across the ceiling were entwined arms and legs; their bright sheen was not from polished aluminum but from a fine glaze of sweat. The rounded bottoms of two oxygen cylinders lashed together were perfectly shaped breasts. Another pair were firm buttocks. The whole station was reeking with sex. It was everyplace, even in the very air. He tried to get his mind off last night with Carla Sue, tried to concentrate on his duties. But he could think of nothing else. His erection pressed against his flight pants.
A loud clanging interrupted his turmoil. Aaron Weiss hovered in the entry hatch, his ever-present hat and Minicam bound to him.
“May I come in?”
“I guess.”
Weiss tumbled quickly into the module.
“Commander’s orders,” he said. “I need permission and the escort of a crew member to enter this module.”
Lance shook his head as if perplexed by the rules.
“He must have a reason,” said Weiss. “Nothing on this station exists without good reason.”
“I suppose so,” said Lance, warily.
“What the hell is a logistics module, anyway?” asked Weiss.
Patiently Lance explained about the materials stored in the module and described the computer-controlled system for utilizing them.
Weiss suddenly asked, “What is your opinion of the scientific research being conducted on this station?”
“Uh—It’s important, I guess,” said Lance.
“I get the feeling that the crew is not intimately involved with it.”
Lance almost said that he personally was more intimately involved with the Mars Project. His thoughts surged between a giddy pride about last night and a gnawing fear that he had done something terribly wrong. But he couldn’t tell Aaron Weiss about that. Weiss wouldn’t understand.
“No, we’re not,” he replied. “Our main job is to keep the station flying. That’s why we’re here. That’s what inspecting this here log mod every day is all about.”
“Log . . .?” Weiss looked puzzled momentarily. “Oh, you mean logistics module.”
Lance nodded. Moving around Weiss, he made a big show of testing the seals of a waste receptacle.
“It’s an interesting project,” said Weiss, adjusting himself so that he always faced the constantly moving crewman. “The creation of a superbug that will rid the world of toxic wastes.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Lance said, though he didn’t pay the idea much mind. He furtively passed a finger under his nose. Traces of Carla Sue’s tangy smell were still there, even after he had scrubbed his hands several times. Could the reporter smell it?
“Looks to me,” said Weiss, “that man for hundreds of years has played the devil in our Garden of Eden down below…”
“How’s that?” A jolt of almost electrical intensity surged through Lance.