"Shove off, swabbie," Muldoon muttered around a mouthful of hairpins. "This is something I do know."
"You do?" Rod couldn't help goggling. "Where'd you learn?"
"Before school, every day for thirteen years."
"Then wh—" Rod just barely managed to swallow the rest of it.
"Because when I got to college, I decided there was no reason to put up with the pain, and swore I'd never do it again. Will you get out of here?"
"But what about your oath?"
"I'm going to start using it in about three seconds. Now shove off!"
"Shopping!" Weiser chortled. "The little guy's going shopping! Hey, if ya see something frilly, take it in and have it filled, will ya?"
"Let him alone, Weiser," McCracken grumped. "At least he's getting Gracie to step out a little."
"Yeah. Nice move there, mister." Weiser throttled it down to a grin. "How come you know all about dresses, buddy boy?"
"Mr. Weiser," Rod said, in his loftiest manner, "I have always enjoyed studying dresses closely—after there's something in them."
"Oh, yeah? Did you learn anything?"
"A lot, about truth in packaging." Rod turned around at the sound of high heels. "Ready, sir?"
"You betcha, swabbie!" Muldoon floated up in a velvet dress, hair falling in gentle waves, makeup flawless, and a twinkle in her eye. "Let's go see Titan!" She hooked her hand through his elbow and charged out to do battle with the cash register.
Weiser's head pivoted on his shoulders as he watched her go by. He studied their retreating forms, mostly hers. "Y' know, that kid just might be smarter than he looks."
"Yeah, and maybe he's so smart that he's dumb." McCracken frowned at him. "I worry too much, Albie."
"D'Armand's Finishing School," Weiser chuckled. "It'll finish you, if you don't stop snickering."
"I'm not snickering, I'm chuckling."
"Well, stow it, whatever it is—here she comes." They tipped their hats as Muldoon breezed by. "Hi, Gracie!"
"Good to see you, Grace!"
" 'Grace' is the word," Weiser murmured, watching her retreating back. "Maybe the kid knows what he's doing."
"Maybe he does," McCracken agreed. "Pull your eyes back into your head, Albie."
"Ceres again," McCracken sighed. "Whelk goes off to his wife, the captain goes off with a crowd, and I go off to dinner."
"Whatever we're doing, let's go." Weiser had the fidgets. "Do we have to wait for the captain?"
"More a matter of him waiting for you." Whelk came up. "I understand he wants to give us all a sermon."
"For liberty?"
Donough came up with a smile. " 'Ten-shun! Now, men, I know this is going to be something of a strain, but I understand we're giving the good ship Murray Rain a bad reputation."
"Bad rep?" Weiser squalled. "We've been angels! Well… compared to…" His voice trailed off.
Donough nodded. "Just what I had in mind, Mr. Weiser. Who ever heard of a sedate sailor, sea or space? Now, I do want dignity at all times—but see if you can't be a little wilder about it, eh? All right, now, out we… What are you staring at?"
All three officers were gazing past his shoulders with eyes like saucers. "Captain… Gracie…"
Donough turned to look, and looked again.
She came toward them with small quick steps, one hand on the bulkhead to keep her down to the deck, eyes bright, an eager smile, and a dress that clung to every contour.
Donough gasped as though he'd been hit, or at least smitten.
Weiser was the first to recover. "Hey, Gracie, I know this great little place…"
McCracken bowled past him. "Grace, would you consider dinner at the most fantastic restaurant…"
Whelk just looked unhappy; he had a wife waiting.
"Ten-hut!"
They all pulled a brace. The captain saw Gracie at attention, and took a deep breath himself. "Gentlemen," he said quietly, "for once, I'm going to pull rank. Ms. Muldoon, may I have the pleasure of your company for dinner tonight?"
"Oh, yes, Captain!" Muldoon fairly glowed as she took his arm and stepped out under the stars, gazes locked with Donough's. Weiser stood in the hatchway staring after them, muttering, "She's in love with him. I knew it, yeah—so why's it hit hard, now?"
"Maybe because he never realized she was a woman before," Rod said.
Weiser turned to him, narrow-eyed. "Speak when you're spoken to, Mister! If she gets a heartbreak, it's you I'll come looking for!"
And, for a moment, Rod didn't think Weiser was going to wait. He braced for combat, resolved not to lose his head this time. All he could say was, "She needed it."
"Yeah." There was no definite sign, but he could see Weiser cooling down. "I oughta hate you for it—but I can't. 'Cause I love her." He studied Rod for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "You, too, huh, kid?"
Rod swallowed and nodded.
Then Weiser's arm shot out—to slap him across the shoulders and turn him toward the hatchway. "Come on, swabbie—let's go get drunk."
And they did. Totally.
He woke to the sound of singing, croaked piteously, and tried to bury his head under the pillow, but it was fastened down.
"Oh, Rod, it was so wonderful!"
Rod rolled up enough to crack one bloodshot eye open. The ultimate vision of female loveliness sat down on his bed, and he was in no condition to do anything about it.
"The whole night, Rod! He spent the whole night, just with me! No taking me back to the ship and going off!"
"I'm s' happy," Rod moaned.
"First it was dinner, then it was dancing! Then we went to the first night club, and a gypsy came over and played a violin—just for us!"
Rod wanted to ask her to speak more softly, but he didn't have the heart.
"Then another club, and another, and I was hoping he wouldn't proposition me, 'cause I didn't know if I would've been able to resist—but he didn't."
Thank heaven for small mercies. Personally, Rod wished the ship would stop rolling.
Then he remembered it was a spaceship, and the waves were only in his stomach.
"No other women! No blondes! No brunettes! Just me!" Muldoon glided up into a pirouette. Rod caught his breath.
"We got drunk, but not terribly—we didn't need to. We had breakfast at Pastiche's and strolled back along the Boulevard Glazé, and I never realized before how beautiful the asteroids can be, like stars in a waltz! And he stopped in front of the church, Ceres' only church, and asked me to marry him!"
Rod stared, too horrified to make a sound.
"Of course I said yes. I didn't have to think about it—I already have, so many times! I said yes, and he took me inside and caught us a minister, and he helped us catch each other, and we stopped by a jeweler's on the way back to the ship, and here it is!"
She thrust a small glacier under Rod's nose. He goggled, staring at the iceberg and the slim gold band next to it, and felt his stomach sink, then lurch. But he managed to whisper anyway, "All best wishes."
"Oh, thank you, you darling! And I owe it all to you!" Muldoon seized his face, gave him a quick, warm, but thorough kiss, and said, "I'll never forget you for this." She bowed her head, suddenly looking terribly shy, and breathed, "Gotta go now. My husband is waiting."
Then she was gone, in a swirl of taffeta.
Rod moaned and rolled over on his bunk, hanging his head over the bucket beside it. "Fess—what have I done?"
"You have made a good woman very happy, Rod."
"But it wasn't supposed to work out this way!"