Joe Haldeman - Marsbound

I didn’t really have an orgasm until later, in the shower, but it was still overwhelming. Floating in space with Paul inside me, and me inside his arms. It took me a long time to fall asleep that night, and I woke up with the feeling still fresh. His face in the twilight, eyes closed, concentrating, then losing control. And me not a virgin anymore, not even technically.

It was several days before we could find the privacy to talk about it. We were both in the galley for the last breakfast shift, and I killed some time cleaning up the microwave and prep area until the last people left.

He said it quickly, almost sotto voce: “Carmen I’m sorry I took advantage of you.”

“You didn’t. I loved it.”

“But you were drinking, and I really wasn’t.”

“Just to get up the courage.” Not strictly true; I’m sure I would have had a couple no matter who was at the party. “Don’t feel guilty.” He was still sitting down; I leaned over and hugged him from behind. “Really, don’t. You made me so happy.”

I could tell he was trying not to squirm. “Made me happy too,” he said in an unhappy voice.

I sat down across from him. “What? What is it? Age difference?”

“No. That’s part of it, but no.” He leaned back. “It’s my being pilot, which is to say captain.” He visibly struggled, trying to find words. “I want to show you how I feel, but I can’t. I can’t court you; I can’t treat you differently from anybody else.”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t expect—”

“But I want to! That night meant as much to me, maybe more, and I want to treat you like a lover. I can’t even wink at you, not really. Let alone hold your hand, or…”

Or do it again, I realized. Even if we manufactured an opportunity. “Do you really think it’s a secret? The Manchesters pretty obviously left to give us some privacy.”

“You haven’t told anybody?”

“No.” Not in so many words. But Elspeth and Kaimei gave me big grins that were pretty clear.

“That’s important. The ship runs on rumor as much as hydrogen. People will whisper; they’ll know , but as long as you and I keep it private, my… my authority isn’t compromised.”

His authority. And a devilish part of me wanted to tell everybody. I’m a real woman—I’m fucking the captain. “I can see that.”

Somebody was coming down the ladder. He stood up.

It was my mother, coffee cup in hand.

“Oh… hello, Paul.” Amazing how much she could communicate with two words.

“Morning, Laura. See you later, Carmen.” He went up the ladder as soon as she let go.

She watched his retreating ass with a little smile. Then she got a spoonful of coffee and poured hot water on it. “I was younger than you,” she said. “Seventeen, and no, it wasn’t your father.”

“You didn’t meet until graduate school,” I said inanely.

“He’s eleven years older?”

“More like ten. He was born in February.”

She put some sugar in the coffee, not normal for her. “Don’t get too attached to him. He has a life on Mars, and he’ll have to stay there.”

“I might want to stay there, too.” Even as I said the words, I couldn’t believe they’d come out of my mouth.

“We all have the option, of course.” She touched my shoulder. “He’s a nice man. Don’t forget there are a billion of them back on Earth.”

She capped the coffee and swung up the ladder, back to her research station, without saying any motherly things like Don’t let him hurt you or Don’t let your father know, proving life is not a soap.

Of course Dad would know, along with everybody else. If the pilot had fucked any other innocent young thing, I suppose I would have known by breakfast.

I didn’t feel particularly young or innocent. If everyone knows, why not keep doing it? It wasn’t as if I could get pregnant; with Delaze, I wouldn’t start ovulating until after we’d landed on Mars, as he well knew. Even mighty space-pilot sperm wouldn’t live that long.

After we reached the halfway mark, all of us young ones met our volunteer “Mars mentors,” people who weren’t teachers or parents but wanted to help us with our transition to their world.

My guy was “Oz,” Dr. Oswald Penninger, a life scientist like Mother. He had a big smile and a salt-and-pepper beard.

Conversation was awkward, with an eight-minute delay between “How are you?” and “Fine,” but we got used to it. It was kind of like really slow instant messaging. You ask a question, then do something else for a while, and he answers, then does something else for a while. We didn’t normally use visual, unless there was something to show.

He was like everybody’s favorite uncle, acknowledging the difference in our ages but then treating me like an equal who didn’t know quite as much. I grew to like him better than I did most of the people on board, which I suppose was predictable. He was sixty-three, an African-American from Georgia, exobiologist and artist. They didn’t have paper for drawing, of course, but he did beautifully intricate work on-screen that galleries in Atlanta and Oslo printed and sold.

Should an artist’s pictures match his personality? Oz was a jolly plump man, given to sly wordplay and funny stories. But his art was dark and disturbing. He’d studied art in Norway for two years, and said his stuff was positively cheerful compared to the other people’s in his studio. I’d have to see that to believe it.

He zapped me the software that he uses for drawing, but I’ve never had much talent in that direction. He said he’ll show me some tricks when we meet in person. Meanwhile, I’ve downloaded a beginner’s text on cartooning and will try to learn enough to surprise him.

Funny to have a friend you’ve never touched or actually seen. I wonder whether we’ll like each other in person.

About a week went by without Paul suggesting another tryst, if that’s the right word. He seemed to be going out of his way to treat me like just another passenger, which was of course according to plan. But I was a little anxious because he was playing the part too well.

He wasn’t avoiding me, but nobody on the ship was harder to get alone. I kept taking the last breakfast shift, and finally managed to corner him.

As I approached, he got a kind of resigned look, but reached out and took my hand. “I’m afraid I’m in trouble. With Mars.”

“Because of me?”

He shrugged. “You’re not in trouble. But somebody heard, and is whizzed at me for ‘seducing one of the Earth children.’ ”

“I’m not a child! I’m nineteen, going on thirty.”

“As I pointed out. They still say it was immature and unprofessional of me. Maybe they’re right.”

“It’s not fair. We didn’t really do anything wrong.”

“Somebody thinks otherwise. Somebody here, who told somebody there.”

“Who? Someone who has it in for you, or me?”

“I’m pretty sure who it is on Mars, but I don’t know about here. It didn’t have to start out malicious; just a juicy scrap of gossip.” He took a sip of coffee that was probably cold. “I hope your parents don’t find out this way.”

“Oh, they know. At least Mother does, and she’s okay with it.”

He nodded slowly. “That’s good. But I guess we’d better put it on ice for a while.”

I tried to keep anger out of my voice. “I don’t see why. What’s done is done.”

“The sexual part, yes. But now it would be insubordination as well. Which might be more serious. Would be.”

“For your career.”

“Not exactly. Nobody can fire me. But the colony’s a small town, and I have to live there the rest of my life.”