Jenny and I danced on. I saw Zak wandering around the place, cup in hand. When we all took a break Jenny went off to the john. I wandered over to where Zak was leaning in a corner. He’s the Can’s Number One word magician in ordinary conversation, but I’ve noticed that he doesn’t stand out much at the Socials. He hardly ever dances and he doesn’t say much.
“What’re you doing hiding over here?” I asked.
“Passing the time.”
“Eyeing the girls, you mean. Why not ask one to dance? They don’t bite. Not often, anyway.”
“I’m sizing them up. Picking out the target.”
“Target for what?”
“Remember Ishi’s Lady X?”
“Oh.”
“She’s got to be in this room. Right in front of us.” He gestured dramatically.
“Maybe.”
“No maybes, she’s here. Unless she was some twenty-year-old.” His eyes widened at the implications. “Say, you don’t suppose he might’ve—”
“Look, who can tell? That information’s lost.”
“Ah. my friend, but the Lady X is not. All I have to do is find her.”
“I think you’re looking at this the wrong way.”
“How so?”
“It’s not a rabbit hunt. I mean, you don’t just put her in your sights and whammo, there you are.”
“Why not?”
“Well…” I wasn’t sure quite what I did mean. “Look, it’s got to mean something more than that.”
He smirked. “Old romantic Matt.”
“Maybe I’ve just got higher standards, huh?” I growled.
Zak shrugged. “We were discussing technique, not principles.”
“No, look, I don’t even think your approach will work. If you zoom in on some poor girl, right away she’s going to suspect what you’re after. She’ll turn off, fast.”
Zak shrugged again. “We’ll see, we’ll see.”
I pitied the girl Zak came on with. He’d stand offshore and try the familiar verbal barrage to soften her up. Then he’d follow it with a vigorous assault on the beaches. She’d push him right back into the sea, I was pretty sure of that. Still… I looked around at the hundred or so kids in the rec hall. Somewhere in here was Lady X, Zak was probably right about that. Which one? Even if I figured out who she was, there were always some goddam chaperones around. It did make you think, though…
I shook myself. Come on Matt.
“Hey, isn’t that—hot damn, it is!” Zak cried, and then chuckled.
I looked toward the door. Yuri was standing there, halfway in. He was wearing some breeches that looked like leather, and a flowery, ruffled shirt, with cuffs that flared open. “Geez, what’s that?” I said in wonder.
Then I noticed that a slightly shorter man was gesturing for Yuri to come on in. Yuri’s father. I’d seen him around.
Zak said, “Looks like some costume from the Middle Ages.”
Yuri’s father called, “Dr. Matonin, I propose a new event for these Socials.” He smiled broadly and tugged Yuri through the hatchway. By now everybody had noticed Yuri’s getup and the whole room was quiet. “A traditional Ukrainian dance, the sava-bodnaya. I think the children will enjoy it just as much as your more western dances.”
Dr. Sagdaeff looked a little red in the nose and he was perspiring freely. I guessed maybe he’d had a little bit to drink. Yuri stood beside him, looking like he’d rather be a thousand klicks away. In fact, being dead wouldn’t be a bad alternative, either.
“Well, I suppose later we can try a few steps,” Dr, Matonin said diplomatically. “This is a social dancing occasion, but…”
“Yuri here, I had him put on the traditional costume. Brought all the way from the Ukraine, it is.”
“So I see.”
“It will help to get in the mood. Show her, Yuri.”
Yuri bit his lip. He stood frozen, the breeches too tight for him. His eyes raced around the room and his face was red. “Papa. I…”
“Yuri! Dance!” His father’s voice was suddenly harsh.
“Papa—”
“Come!” Dr. Sagdaeff began clapping loudly and stomping one foot a quarter-note off the claps. It made a pleasant contrapuntal effect. “Come!”
Yuri started to do a little jogging dance. The steps were intricate. The rhythm picked you up, though. It was a good dancing beat. I found my own foot tapping along.
It was fine as long as you didn’t look at Yuri. The big lug bounced around, feet busy, face rigid. You could tell he was embarrassed. On somebody smaller the costume would’ve looked odd, but interesting, and maybe exotic. On Yuri it just looked funny.
Jenny came over and gave me a sidelong glance, grimacing.
Zak whispered, “Good grief, it’s agonizing to watch.”
“Yes,” Jenny said. “How can a father make a public exhibit of his son that way?”
“He must have Yuri on pretty tight reins.” I murmured.
“Looks like it,” Jenny agreed. “That might explain a lot.”
I said, “Like what?”
“What makes Yuri run, Matt-o,” Zak put in.
“You mean his father?”
“Might be,” Jenny said. “Something’s driving Yuri to compete. A father who can force you to, well—”
Zak supplied, “Make a fool of yourself in public.”
“Yes. Well, a father like that can egg you on to succeed, win every contest, be the best on every test. This certainly fits the pattern and helps explain it.”
“Shrewd analysis,” Zak said.
I thought about it. It didn’t make Yuri any more likable, but maybe it did clear up some mystery about why he was always such a dorp. Parents can do you a lot of damage.
By now Yuri was grimacing and glaring around at everybody, as if daring them to say something. His father was gaily clapping and stomping, oblivious to it all. He probably was remembering some childhood dance of his own, back in the sunny-speckled wheat fields of the Ukraine. It didn’t seem to matter to him that Yuri didn’t share his fondness.
Jenny murmured, “That’s part of the Yuri riddle, all right. But, y’know, sometimes I think guys who are big bruisers act that way because that’s what we expect of them. There’s some truth to that, too.”
I frowned, trying to puzzle that one out. Jenny sees these things clearer than I do. Hell, I was beginning to think everybody did.
Dr. Matonin raised her voice. “Dr. Sagdaeff? Dr. Sagdaeff!” The clapping slowed and stopped. Yuri quit dancing with obvious relief. “I’m sure we would all be interested in learning such a dance…later, after we have had some social dancing. We thank you very much for the demonstration. If you could help us learn it later?” Then she smoothly guided some couples into a Latin American number as the canned music swelled up again.
Jenny said reflectively, “Actually, it is an interesting looking dance.”
“Kind of like square dancing,” I said, “but harder.”
“Ummmm,” she mused. “Look at Yuri. Does he look awkward.”
Yuri was standing around, looking at the couples. His peasant costume or whatever it was had looked okay while he danced and while he moved around. Standing still, he just looked silly. “Yeah,” I said.
“You know,” she said, “your smirk doesn’t have to be that superior.”
“C’mon, let’s dance,” I said. But she was right. It did feel good to gloat.
Chapter 11
I got up early the next day and beat Jenny down to the vehicle bay. I fooled around, poking my nose into some other ships moored nearby, until I got a call over suit radio. I turned and saw her kicking off from the lock.
“My Captain cometh,” I said.