Date Night on Union Station (12 page)

Seventeen

“I’m done for the day, Miss Acting Ambassador,” Donna said, and dropped a mock curtsey in the doorway of Kelly’s office. “And I forgot to ask, what is that there?”

Kelly followed Donna’s pointed finger to her LoveU recliner, standing in the corner, where it was unrecognizable in its pack-away form.

“Oh, that’s LoveU. I brought it by this morning before office hours.”

“Kelly, I don’t mean to criticize, but I think you’re becoming too attached to that LoveU. It is just a fancy chair after all.”

“My apartment has been locking me out at random because I’m too far behind on the rent again,” Kelly explained. “My jerk landlord might try to hold my stuff for auction or put it all out in the corridor for all I know or care, but they aren’t getting my LoveU,” she concluded fiercely.

“Have you tried discussing your personal money problems with EarthCent, or with Gryph?” Donna asked. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get you any more money with your promotion, but there was that whole paying-for-the-rescue business.”

“I really don’t get what they want from me,” Kelly flared. “Every time I think I’ve done something right it costs me money. In fact, I know I’ve done something right, or they wouldn’t keep promoting me, would they? But how am I supposed to work if I don’t have a place to sleep at night?”

“Maybe that’s the idea,” Donna ventured. “Maybe they want you to camp out in your office, and then they’ll have you at work all the time.”

“Well, I’m warning you. A couple more weeks of this and I’m going to take up your girls on that baby brother proposition. I need the money.”

“That’s fine by me, but you’re the one who has to break it to Stanley. I’m telling you ahead of time that man is a swan. The only time he’s looked at another woman since we got married, she was an artificial person based on a game heroine.” Donna laughed at her own joke, but noticed that Kelly just looked embarrassed. “Come on, falling for an artificial person, can you imagine? Anyway, who did you get to help you move the LoveU here? Are you still seeing the guy from the mixer, or was he one of those one-night things?”

“LoveU moves itself just fine,” Kelly proclaimed in a stage voice. Then she took Donna aside and whispered, “It’s really kind of embarrassing the way it walks, the front legs are way too short, but I don’t want to say anything that might hurt its feelings in case it’s listening.”

“I don’t even know whether or not to take you seriously,” Donna replied with a sniff. “Are you all set for your date tonight?”

“Yes. I have my dress and shoes here, and I’m going to shower at the public baths. Even if the apartment did let me in, the bathroom has turned into a torture chamber. If I never go back there again it will be too soon.”

“You know I’d be happy to loan you the money for rent,” Donna admonished her. “You really shouldn’t be living like this.”

“No. If I can’t keep things together myself, it’s better to let them fall apart. Maybe then EarthCent will finally do something.”

“Suit yourself, but don’t expect me to give up the reception area for your living room,” she warned, half jokingly. “After all, we are running an important diplomatic mission here.” Both women laughed at this characterization until they lost their breath, though perhaps for different reasons. After a quick hug, Donna left for home and Kelly took her change of clothes in an oversize handbag and headed to the public baths.

An hour later she emerged a new woman. Her long red hair was coiled and piled high on her head, and she was sporting the faux mechanical watch she’d received as a gift from Shaina, a new addition to her dating attire. Still carrying the oversize handbag which now contained her tightly-wadded work clothes, she headed for El Toro, wondering why the guy or Eemas always got to pick the locations for her. Maybe it was a decision Donna and the girls had made for her when filling out her profile, letting the others choose.

Not surprisingly, El Toro was a Spanish-themed restaurant with staff dressed as flamenco dancers. Her date was described as “black cape, sword cane, sparkle in the eye,” which struck Kelly as quite romantic, though she wondered how she was supposed to spot a sword cane unless he drew the blade and brandished it. Nobody matching the description had arrived yet, so she let the waitress, from whose thumbs dangled castanets on short cords, seat her at a cozy table for two and bring a glass of red wine.

At 20:00 on the hour, a wiry figure, half hidden by a black cloak that included a hood drawn tightly over the head, clunked through the door. Kelly stared in surprise when she saw that the sword cane, wielded jauntily in a white gloved hand, was keeping time with the wooden leg which her date hadn’t bothered dressing up with a shoe. A peg leg, the term came to mind from her extensive reading of Victorian literature.

He clumped directly over to her table and made a theatrical if somewhat stiff bow, accompanied by the declaration, “Alexander Fantier at your service.”

“I’m Kelly,” she managed to reply as he seated himself. She noted with dismay that the promised sparkle in the eye was literal, since one eye sparkled while the other stared a bit vacantly, being made of glass. His light brown skin was badly pocked, and the prominent cheekbones of his narrow face made him look a bit starved. When he threw back the hood, Kelly guessed that he was at least twice her age, and couldn’t help crossing her fingers in hope this was another of Libby’s business dates as opposed to her Mr. Right.

“Ah, I see you’ve started with a glass of wine. I shall join you and tell them to bring the bottle.” He snapped loudly, and when the waitress looked over, he pointed to Kelly’s glass and made a vertical separation motion with his hands, which seemed to be a shared code.

“I, ah, I’ve never really met anybody with a peg leg before,” Kelly blurted in a rush and blushed. “I can’t help wondering if you have a religious objection to the cloned replacements.”

“Never even considered a vat replacement,” Alexander replied scornfully, before breaking into a surprisingly winning smile. “I intend to leave this world the way I came into it. Well, minus a few parts perhaps, and better dressed, but certainly without any additions.”

“That’s a refreshing attitude,” Kelly tried to sound enthusiastic. “So many people you meet these days aren’t who they seem at all. Why, just last week I found myself dancing with—oh, never mind.”

Alexander tilted his head like an intelligent dog, his one good eye gleaming, and watched as the waitress placed his glass on the table and filled it.

“Are you ready to order, Mr. Fantier, or would you like some time?” the waitress prompted them.

“You seem to know this place, so whatever you think is best is fine by me,” Kelly answered in response to his silent look of inquiry.

“I think the tortilla de patata followed by the seafood paella, with a mixed green salad to start. And perhaps a small brandy as an aperitif?” he asked Kelly, raising the eyebrow above his good eye.

“That sounds delicious,” Kelly concurred, and the waitress headed off to relay their order.

“So, you were expecting somebody younger?” Alexander pushed on merrily. “I can assure you, that like the fine brandy we will soon be drinking, the wine in this old barrel only improves with age. I hope you give me a chance to show you a pleasant evening.”

“This is my fourth introduction through the Eemas service. As long as you aren’t an alien, a kidnapper or about to suggest a business arrangement where I carry your seed, you’re starting way ahead of the curve,” Kelly admitted wryly.

“That bad?” He gave a long whistle. “Well, it’s my first time, my first time using an introduction service that is, and I must admit I’m very impressed with the results.”

“Thank you,” she said, hiding a grin with her hand. “Funny, though. What led you to try an expensive dating service at your, uh, I mean, all of a sudden?”

“At my age, is what you mean,” he said with a chuckle. “Well, I can’t say I’d ever really considered it before, but when I came through the tunnel last night, I was surprised to hear that mine was the hundred millionth transit through the Union Station tunnel branch since the construction of the old customs terminal. The management offered me this Eemas encounter as a sort of a prize.”

“That’s really strange. I’ve never heard of the old customs terminal.”

“I asked about that,” he replied. “Apparently they demolished it an aeon ago when they changed over to toll transponder technology. But the Stryx are a sentimental race. It’s why we get on so well together, I suppose.”

“That sounds like pretty long odds, the hundred-millionth anything,” Kelly continued, unable to keep a tone of skepticism from creeping into her voice.

“I can’t imagine why anybody would make such a thing up. I certainly didn’t,” he protested innocently, his good eye sparkling away.

The waitress returned with two small, thin glasses of brandy, a large mixed salad, separate bottles of oil and vinegar, and two wooden salad plates with the required implements. Alexander picked up both glasses, passed one to Kelly, and suggested, “A toast, to the long-shots of the galaxy.”

“I can drink to that,” she replied, accepting the glass, and tossing off the brandy. It was as smooth as any hard liquor she could remember, filling her chest and stomach with instant warmth, without a burn. Alexander sipped his own aperitif, removed his gloves, and began to expertly dress the salad with the oil and vinegar. His finely made hands were as brown as his face, but Kelly couldn’t help noticing one small exception.

“I’m sorry to ask, but were you recently widowed?”

Alexander paused, then looked at his hands and shook his head sadly. “I should have kept the gloves on, I see. I wasn’t thinking. Well, the universe moves in mysterious ways.” Then he fished around in his vest pocket and drew out a gold band, which he replaced on his ring finger with a sigh. “You can’t blame a man for trying.”

“Mr. Fantier! Do you mean there is a Mrs. Fantier somewhere wondering why her husband isn’t home for dinner?” Kelly pretended a mock indignation she couldn’t really feel through her relief. He was, after all, some years north of seventy, and if he was really that randy, his wife would probably wish him well elsewhere.

“Back on Earth,” he admitted. “But I came by way of the orbital factories. It’s hard to make a go of transporting small cargos to and from Earth unless you’re in the luxury goods, like handmade soap.”

“Handmade soap? Where’s the market for that?”

“The Tharks eat the stuff up by the ton. It’s like chocolate to them,” he explained. “But all of the machine manufacturing action is on the orbitals. Low-cost raw materials harvested in space by asteroid hunters, no gravity wells to contend with, or atmospheric contamination. That watch you’re wearing is from the Chintoo orbital complex just one tunnel gate from here. It’s my most frequent run.”

Kelly twisted her wrist up to look at her watch. “Yes, I like it very much. A young friend gave it to me as a gift when she took me on a smuggler’s tour of the Shuk. Have you been there?

Alexander pulled up the loose sleeve of his dinner jacket to reveal a half a dozen watches strapped over the white shirtsleeve encasing his forearm. “You might say I travel the same paths as your friend who works with smugglers. Perhaps you could arrange an introduction?”

“No, you misunderstood. My friend doesn’t work with smugglers, she imports legitimate Earth goods and she’s trying to stop them.”

“What are you, some kind of customs agent?”

“Not really. Sort of,” Kelly confessed. “I’m the EarthCent acting ambassador, for whatever that’s worth. It’s difficult to explain, we don’t get a lot of guidance.”

“We’d better get started on our salad or it will be in the way when the food arrives,” Alexander said sourly, and Kelly noticed that he looked a decade older when the sparkle was absent from his one good eye.

“Oh, don’t worry. I never arrest anybody on the first date,” Kelly jested. Alexander looked relieved, then he laughed happily and the life came back into his movements.

“I’m not an easy man to arrest, you know. How do you think I lost the eye and the leg?”

“But why do you do it?” Kelly asked, transferring half of the contents of the salad bowl to her plate. It was clear at this point that this was another of Libby’s working dates, so she may as well learn what she could. Besides, Alexander seemed nice enough for an old married coot. He was just a long way from home and happy not to be eating dinner alone.

“Smuggle? To make a living,” he said simply. “I was in the old surface navy when the Stryx came. Do you remember ships that sailed on water? Now that was a real challenge, navigating the dividing line between air and sea. The flyboys and the submariners have it easy, you’re either up or down. But sailors, we were right in between.”

“You mean the Stryx put the navy out of business? I never thought of that.”

“That’s a good way to describe it. After the Stryx came, the population began emptying out into the stars. All of a sudden, there wasn’t a lot of need for policing the oceans or projecting force around the globe. At the same time, the tax base fell off a cliff, so there was no money for the military. The whole government budget basically turned into a pension fund.”

“So you lost your job?” Kelly asked, helping herself to another serving of salad.

“I was just a couple years from a pension myself, but I don’t care about that. Yes, I lost my career, but my experience qualified me for a lend/lease of a third-hand ship from one of the less advanced species the Stryx had helped in the past. I’d had enough of commanding men and following orders from on high by that point, so I opted for the smallest vessel they had, a deep space prospecting ship.”