‘Isn’t it awful,’ said Cilia, as they walked back.
‘I’ve just seen a man who’s been taken over by a dog,’ said Milena. ‘He was freezing to death. And do you know? No one would help him. It took some Bees to carry him off. They saved him, no one else would.’ She paused. ‘One of them was Billy,’ she said.
‘This will all be new to you, won’t it?’ said Cilia, sympathetically taking her hand as they sat down at a table.
‘Actually, it feels very old. It feels how I used to feel.’
‘Do you remember when you used to boil things?’ Cilia said. ‘You melted all my knives and forks. I thought you were crazy.’
Without thinking, Cilia was reaching across and taking food from Milena’s plate. A bad habit from Cilia’s own days in the Child Garden. Milena watched her do it, and allowed herself to smile as Cilia pressed together crumbs.
‘I remember,’ said Cilia, ‘when you used to boil the toilet seats. One night we all hid to catch you at it. You had a kettle in your hand, and there was steam coming out of the toilet bowl, and you said "Oh. I’m just making a cup of tea!’"
‘And you said "Funny kind of teapot.’"
Cilia and Milena were finally friends. It had taken a long time. Milena always found it took her a long time to make friends. She knew that Cilia respected her, and that she had earned that respect. Milena could still not resist praise. Bad habits from the Child Garden.
‘Tell me about space,’ said Cilia, firmly changing the subject.
There was a hush all around them. Both Cilia and Milena were aware of it. Milena was no longer a director of small out-theatre. She was Ma, who had flooded the world with flowers. She was the producer of the Comedy. Cilia was its star, its Virgil. The regulars of the Zoo Cafe were too proud and polite to stare. But the quietness was there, of respect, of animal hierarchy.
‘Well. Space is beautiful,’ said Milena. ‘Earth is beautiful. The mountains looked like crumpled paper, but the more you focus on them, the more detail there is. And you can tell, you know, you can see how far down it is. This huge, far distance. And you’re falling. You know you’re always falling. There is a horizon, and you can see the boundary of the air. It is the most beautiful, blue thing.’
It was like giving Cilia a gift, to tell her this, and tell her this in public. Cilia had a childish delight in being an Animal. Milena more than forgave it. It was one of the reasons she liked her.
‘And the hologramming,’ said Cilia. ‘Tell me about that. It was noon here. Low dark clouds. And then it started to rain flowers! And there was that beautiful music! All around us in the air.’
‘There was an Angel. He was the lens. He called himself Bob, and he was from London.’
Milena steeled herself to deliver some news. ‘He’s the one who told me I should be married.’
Cilia stopped stealing Milena’s cake. ‘And?’ she asked.
‘I’m going to be,’ said Milena, smiling into Cilia’s eyes.
‘Hallelujah!’ said Cilia. ‘Really? Oh Milena, that’s a sunny Feb.’ She leaned forward, and kissed Milena on the cheek. ‘Who to?’
Milena began to smile in spite of herself. ‘Mike Stone,’ she said.
There had been attempts to make heroes of all the astronauts. There had been public hologrammatic displays. Mike Stone was well known, but he had not become a hero.
Cilia’s smile began to fade. It almost went sour. ‘Mike…’ her voice trailed off. ‘Ew!’ she exclaimed in pity and horror. She held up a hand for silence. ‘Don’t do it, Milena,’ she said, swallowing cake in a hurry. ‘I know, it must have been beautiful up there alone with a man, any man, looking at the stars…’
Milena had been longing to see what Cilia’s reaction would be. She knew it would amuse her. ‘The zero-grav toilet was replete with allure as well,’ Milena said, smiling.
‘Can I speak frankly?’ Cilia asked.
‘Cill, I’ve never known you do anything else.’
‘What you need is a tooch knave.’ Tooch meant sexy. Knave meant wild boy and was pronounced ‘kenabva’. Cilia leaned forward, and spoke in a low murmur that could not be heard by anyone else around them. The only thing that would be heard was the general message that a very serious, important heart-to-heart was being had in public.
‘Now that you’re back, take a look at the Zoo Beauties. Any of them, Milena, has got to be better than Mike Stone. He makes me feel sick. He looks like he’s got a broom stuck up his arse all the way to the top of his neck. He can’t talk. He just sits there like somebody’s wound him up too tight.’
‘All of this,’ said Milena, ‘is true.’
Cilia’s expression became deeply pained. ‘I know,’ she said, and closed her eyes with pity. ‘I know. Men have not been good to you. They have looked right through you…’
‘Thank God for that,’ said Milena.
‘But don’t throw yourself away on the first one who pays you any attention. Am I offending you?’
Cilia, dear heart, anyone else in the world would have smacked you in the choppers by now. Milena’s face was split wide with a grin, and she felt like roaring with laughter. She shook her head to mean no.
‘Then why are you smiling?’ said Cilia wisely, sadly. ‘I always know, Milena. You always mask your pain with a smile.’
Milena finally laughed out loud. She clasped Cilia’s hand.
‘I’m marrying him,’ she said, ‘because I have absolutely no intention of marrying anyone at all.’
Milena was learning how to be honest. Honestly deceitful? Or just too damn inflated to care?
She looked back at Cilia, smiling, tougher man she had been.
‘I have no intention of marrying anybody, but the Consensus would like a nice story. So. It’s going to get one. Marriage of the astronauts. Romance in the stars.’
‘You’re going to give away the best part of yourself,’ said Cilia in the weak voice of truth.
‘I gave that away a long time ago to someone else,’ said Milena, also truthfully.
‘Any hope?’ Cilia asked. She really was, when reality bit, a friend. The reasons did not matter.
‘No,’ said Milena and shook her head. ‘But it’s nice to know that somebody knows. That you know.’
A long pause. ‘It was Rolfa, wasn’t it?’ said Cilia.
Well what do you know? Milena nodded. Yup. Yes. Pretty good, Cilia. ‘Do you mind?’ Milena asked.
‘Mind what? About you being sexually drawn to a member of the same sex, but a different species? Why would I mind that?’ Cilia was not on the firmest of ground at this point. Her delivery wobbled. ‘No. No. No, I don’t mind. It puts a lot of things into perspective. But I must make plain that my interests do not lie along similar lines.’ She coughed, and tried to take a sip of coffee and missed, hitting her teeth with the edge of the cup.
Cilia had not really wanted to know the truth. She had been ambushed by her more honest self.
‘I really wish you weren’t,’ she said, in a mournful rush.
‘Because it spoils the story?’ Milena asked, lightly.
‘Because I’ll always be wondering if you’re sexually attracted to me,’ she lifted the cup up again, thought better of it, let it drop.
‘Cilia. I think of you as my best friend. But I am not sexually attracted to you. Ask yourself this question. Am I Milena’s type? Am I two and a half metres tall and covered in fur?’
‘Now you’re making fun of me.’
‘No I’m not, Cill.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me!’ Cilia demanded, angry and heartstricken at the same moment. ‘Now I feel as if I don’t know you, just when I thought I finally did.’
To Milena’s mingled horror and amusement, Cilia began to weep. A huge fat tear slid down her face like melting ice cream. ‘Am I a ludicrous person?’ she asked suddenly, in all sincerity.