Charlotte laughed delightedly, clapping and whistling. "Encore!" She didn't have to fake it. Almost all of her patrons tried to impress her, showing off their sophisticated art collections or delicate antiques, lecturing her extensively on every piece, demonstrating how cultured and refined they were, always hoping for an admiration which wasn't entirely bought. No one had ever tried to woo her with anything remotely like this before, not simple enjoyment. It was all so gloriously childish. She couldn't help wondering how she would look up there on the big screen.
Fabian clambered back to his feet, and slung the chunky rifle over his shoulder. His face split with a rich happy smile. "See, told you I was good. You can pick whatever character you like. I love playing Hudson; he's a real fighter. He's scared the whole time, but he's tough too when it counts. I know his dialogue off by heart."
"You were brilliant." She went over to the terminal he had activated, there were three times the usual number of keys. "What is this?"
"Videoke. All the companies and kombinates say it's going to be their supernova sales item this Christmas. Father got me this deck in advance; he's trying to buy a big consignment of them for Central America. The software houses have only remastered fifty movies for interactivity so far. I've got them loaded in the deck's AV memox; all the real classics since cinema started, even some black and white ones."
"It's wonderful, Fabian."
"Do you want to try it?" he asked generously. "You could be Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca, or Laura Dern in Jurassic Park, you're easily beautiful enough."
"Thank you, flatterer. I will some time, once I've learned the lines. If I'm going to do it, I want to do it properly, like you. I'll have to find the right clothes, too."
"I could do the Humphrey Bogart part with you."
"Yes." She read the list of films the videoke deck's flatscreen was displaying. Snow White in the Disney cartoon would certainly be a challenge. And which dwarf could Fabian be? She chuckled quietly to herself.
Fabian slowly took his helmet off. His hair was all sweaty, clinging to his scalp. "Charlotte."
She looked round at him, surprised by his serious tone.
"I meant it when I said you were beautiful."
"Thank you, Fabian."
"I couldn't believe it the first time I saw you." His pose of assured confidence crumpled, shoulders slumping inside the green armour. "I thought I was dreaming. I knew you'd be pretty, but—"
"Give you a tip, never oversell."
His head came up, lips pressed together defiantly. "Are you laughing at me?"
"No, Fabian. I'm not laughing at you. Life is cruel enough without people deliberately adding to it."
"Oh. You're nothing like… I don't mind what you do, you know."
"What do I do?"
Fabian blushed, the invisible wires tugged his shoulders into a lopsided shrug. "You know. The others, before me. Hiring yourself out."
"Cars and flats are hired out, Fabian. They're objects."
"You mean you want to?"
"I mean there are limits. I have a choice."
His youthful uncertainty had returned. He looked almost fragile, she thought.
"So you only came on board the Colonel because you wanted to?" he asked.
"More or less, yes."
"With me?" his voice was disbelieving.
Charlotte was strongly tempted. Revenge for all the shit she'd been made to eat over the years. She could hit him now, beat him with words, sarcasm and derision, cripple him up inside. He was one of them, the indifferent rich, floating effortlessly through life. Never caring, that was their real crime.
His face hovered halfway between pride and trepidation. The kind of innocence she'd never had.
She couldn't do it.
It wasn't often like this. She was supposed to be a passing fancy, an interesting diversion. Not someone who could leave a lasting impression. But with Fabian, she knew she'd be a wonderful memory for the rest of his life. The greatest present a fifteen-year-old could ever be given—judged from a fifteen-year-old's viewpoint. And who knows, I might even alter his perspective on life.
Charlotte twitched her lips sensually. "You won't like this."
"What?"
"When I saw you back at the Newfields ball. I thought you were kind of cute."
"Cute?" he blurted in dismay.
"Told you."
"Oh." Fabian dropped the rifle back on the junk pile and scratched his neck. "Really?"
"Yes."
"So you must like me a bit."
"I suppose so."
He seemed to inflate with purpose. "All right! Can we go swimming now?"
There really was a swimming-pool on board. A surprisingly large one, fifteen metres long, six wide. The room had a small bar at one end, and solaris spots shining out of a hologram sky. Sun loungers were set out along one side of the pool, the other side was flush with the wall, the windows ten centimetres above the water.
Charlotte tested the water with one foot, then shrugged out of her towelling robe. She was wearing a bright scarlet crossover-back swimsuit underneath. Fabian watched her with a bold face and timid eyes as she dived cleanly into the pool.
She swam over to the windows, and looked out at the Mediterranean below. Floating in water that was floating through air. How strange. And there was that feeling of something being out of kilter again. It was mid-afternoon, with the sun sinking towards the horizon ahead of the Colonel Maitland. She decided that when she got to Odessa she'd call Baronski and tell him to find her another patron. Fabian could nearly be classified as sweet, he was certainly gullible, and easily controlled. But there was no way she was going to spend the next month cooped up in an airship with no one else to talk to.
"Do you want the wave generator on?" he asked.
"Maybe later. I'm still getting used to the idea of a pool in the air. Waves would be pushing it."
He turned onto his back, and drifted away. "The pool makes a lot of sense, you know. It weighs less than the hydrogen the ship used to store; and water is the best kind of ballast, quick to dump."
"Are you telling me that if there's an emergency we're going to go down the plug hole?"
Fabian laughed. "No, course not, stupid. There's a grille over the drain."
Charlotte pushed off from the windows. "Fabian, where do you go to school?"
"Here, I use flexible rate learning programs on my terminal. But I'm going away to university. Father said I am. Cambridge, I hope. That's where he went. I want to do economics so I can take over the trading company from him."
"So when do you get out?"
"Out?"
"Of the Colonel Maitland."
"Oh, when we reach a port where Father has some business. Or if we go to a party."
"So how do you make friends?"
Fabian's good humour faded. He stood up in the middle of the pool. "There are the other kids on the party circuit. And I talk to people on the phone chatlink."
She swam over to him, and stood up, the water coming up to her elbows. His head tilted up to look at her.
"That's nice," she said. "You must meet a lot of varied people."
Fabian nodded. His gaze dropped to the scoop of her swimsuit and stayed there. She eased her chest forward a fraction. Regretting it almost immediately as Fabian became very still; teasing him was such a delicate business. He was on the verge of panic.
"Yes?" she said gently.