Larry Niven - Footfall

“Uh—” She looked up at the man standing where Carlotta had been. “Roger!”

“Yep. Were you thinking about me?” He sat down without waiting to be asked.

“No.” He still looks pretty good. He must be-what, fifty? That’s about right. Good-looking man for fifty. Good-looking for forty, for that matter. “After five years? Why should I?”

He chuckled. “Because you’re alone in my town. You ought to have been thinking about me for weeks.”

“That’s silly.” I did think about you, damn you. “How do you know I’m not waiting for my husband?”

“Because he’s in Houston, sheep dogging the Honorable Wesley Dawson. You were with Carlotta Dawson until a minute ago.” He flashed a grin. “I passed up a chance to interview her, waiting for you to be alone—”

“And if I’d left with her?’

“I’d have got my interview, of course. Or at least had a chance to talk with the wife of the U.S. Ambassador to Outer Space. Now I have to settle for the chauffeur’s wife. How’s Ed taking it?”

“Not well ye never seen him so twitchy.”

“He projects that “Right Stuff” image. Cool and collected, like all the astronauts.”

“Clint’s on TV,” Linda said. “And usually he really is like that. Now he doesn’t know how to feel… Well, look at it. That alien ship is the biggest thing since the invention of the lung, Ed’s sister-in-law discovers it even, and a congressman steals his mission.”

“You ought to be glad it’s Wes. If it wasn’t him, it still wouldn’t be Ed,” Roger said. “The Sovs don’t want Edmund Gillespie. An American military officer, a general-he outranks Rogachev, for God’s sake!”

“Yeah, he knows that, really,” Linda said. “But it doesn’t help that he knows it. Roger, what are you doing here?’

“Trying to seduce you.”

“Roger!”

He shrugged. “It’s true enough. I had a lead on a story, brought her here for a drink, spotted you, and got rid of Ms. Henrietta Crisp of the Business and Professional Women’s Alliance. Surprised hell out of her, it did.”

“Well, you might as well go find her again.”

“All right.” He didn’t move.

Damn you, Roger Brooks! I should get up and leave right now—

“I’ve missed you,” he said. “Sure you have. Three times in fifteen years—”

“Come off it. You weren’t about to get divorced, and when Ed’s around you don’t want to see me across a football field. What was I supposed to do?”

“Yeah.” The old feeling came back, excitement and anticipation. Go home now! That wasn’t going to work, though.

Who is this? I’m happily married, and every five years Roger Brooks finds me, and I feel like a schoolgirl on her first heavy date. How does he do this to me? “I guess I’ve missed you too. Remember that movie Same Time, Next Year? It’s like that with us.”

“Except we don’t see each other so often.” He picked at the scars on his left hand. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t think about you.”

“Oh, sure, and next you’ll tell me I’m the reason you never married,” Or have you?

Roger spread his hands in an exaggerated gesture. “Dunno. There must be some reason,”

“You’re too busy chasing stories. That’s all you see in me, a news source.”

“Come on, now.”

“Will you promise you won’t try to get information from me?”

“Of course not.”—

“See? Good. I don’t like it when you lie to me. So what do we do now?”

He glanced at his watch. “A bit early for dinner. What say we take a drive through the Virginia countryside? I know a nice restaurant in Fairfax.”

“And then?”

“Up to you.” Roger stood and came around to hold her chair.

“I’ve got to be going,” Linda said. She started to push back her chair from Roger’s kitchen table, but Roger stood behind her and blocked her way.

He put his hands under the bathrobe. She felt her nipples erect in the warmth of his palms. “What’s the hurry?”

“Stop that-no, don’t stop that. Roger, what will I tell Aunt Rhonda?”

“Party at the Thai Embassy. Got late. Some senator from the Appropriations Committee insisted on quizzing you about the space program.”

“But—”

“There really is a big party there, so big that you could have been there and been lost in the crowd.” He bent around her, took her nipple in his mouth.

She thought she was thoroughly satiated, but his tongue reawakened sensations all through her body. Roger had always been a tiger-they’d made love three times that afternoon after JPL, all those years ago. Are you serious?”

He straightened. “Possibly not.”

Linda giggled suddenly.

“Certainly not, then,” Roger said. “What is it?”

“I never did get Nat Reynolds’s autograph.”

“Nat-oh. Yeah. Damn, damn, damn. That ship was there all the time we were looking at Saturn. The twisted F-ring. ‘Haven’t you ever seen three earthworms in love?’ ‘You’ve a wicked sense of humor, Darth Vader.’ Remember? The drive flame from that thing must have roiled the whole ring system. It settled down before Voyager Two got there.”

Linda stroked his hand, then put it back on her breast. He stood very close to her. “And even if you’d known, if you’d said anything, they’d have put you away for a nice rest.”

“Heh. Yes. I might have gone digging. Found some astronomical photographs. Something. I didn’t know enough science, then. I’ve done some studying since.”

She grinned and looked up at him without raising her head. “I hadn’t noticed.” Actually it’s not funny. Nothing you could learn, nothing will ever bring back that afternoon. I know that; why do I go on looking? “It was a wonderful day, Roger. All of it. All those Scientists, and the writers-you’ve been studying science; are you going to write science fiction?”

“Hadn’t intended to. Maybe I should. Most of the SF writers have disappeared.” He wet one finger and traced a complex pattern on her breast,

“What?”

“Well, not all of them. The ones who make up their own science are being interviewed all over the place. The ones who stick to real science are getting hard to find. Know anything about it?”

“Not really.”

He straightened and stepped away from her. “My God, you do know something! What?”

“Roger, I said—”

“Bat shit! I can tell! You know something. Linda, what is it?”

“Well, it’s not important. Jenny said something about going to meet the sci-fi people. In Colorado Springs. It wasn’t a secret.”

“Colorado Springs. NORAD or the Air Academy?”

“I don’t know. Aunt Rhonda would know-she’d have Jenny leave her phone number in Colorado Springs. Speaking of Aunt Rhonda, Roger, I really do have to leave. Now let me get up.”

“Well, all right, if you insist. I’ll call you tomorrow.

Say no. Tell him no. “Fine.”

The house perched on stilts above a crag in the Los Angeles hills.

For years the engineers had worried that it would slide down in a heavy rainstorm, but it never did.

Wes Dawson poked about the storage area built by enclosing the stilts. In a normal house it would have been called a basement.

“It’s getting late,” Carlotta called down the stairs.

“I know.” He opened an old trunk, Junk, clutter; memories leapt up at him. Wait a minute, I used to use this a lot… the Valentine card she’d handed him one January morning after a fight