Eloise

Old, perhaps; but not so old that he couldn't hold his own in the gymnasium. Adara hefted the ball, feinted, sent it with the full force of his arms and shoulders to where the man stood. He heard the grunt as the hands slipped, the meaty smack as the ball hit the other's stomach, and felt a warm satisfaction.

"Not bad," said Sagen. The instructor had smooth skin, unbulged by overdeveloped muscle. He lifted his hand as Bikel poised the ball, the throw. "That's enough for now."

"Let's continue."

"No. Exercise as much as you want, but not with the ball." He had sensed the rising antagonism. "Into the pool now, all of you."

The water was deep, green, ringed by naked figures. Adara dived, swam underwater until his lungs felt like bursting, then surfaced with a mist of spray. The exercise had stimulated him and he reveled in the joy of the moment. A couple to one side dived, swam and rose laughing, the girl lifted on the man's hands; water dripping from her hair, the uptilt of her breasts.

Vivien and Dras, selected for breeding, soon to have a child.

The thought ruined his pleasure and he swam to the side, to heave himself up from the pool.

Rhun called to him as he dressed.

"We're having a challenge match tonight, care to join in?"

"I don't think so."

"Two teams at multiple chess. The losers to pay forfeit."

"No." Adara had no interest in the movements of pieces on a board, the pitting of his intellectual skill against that of others. Still less in the ridiculous penalties demanded of the losers. "Some other time, maybe."

"Think again, Adara. Bring Eloise with you. She could enjoy it."

Mention of the name brought a touch of guilt. He had been avoiding her, he realized; not consciously, but with an instinctive caution. Impulsively, he strode to a terminal.

"Adara. Where is Eloise?"

Without hesitation came the answer. "In her room."

She was wearing a dress of orange laced with streaks of brown; green paint on lips and nails, her hair a rippling waterfall over the smooth roundness of her shoulders. Her eyes widened at the sight of him.

"Adara! How did you know I was thinking about you?"

"Were you?"

"Of course, my friend. Who else in this place is as close? Some wine?"

A decanter stood on a low table, next to the deep chair which had been turned so as to face the window. The curtains were withdrawn, the darkening blue of the sky already showing the cold points of stars. She had, he guessed, been sitting, brooding; and he felt a momentary shame.

"Eloise, I'm sorry."

"For what, being careful?" Shrugging she lifted a glass half full of wine. Green wine, he noted, chosen, perhaps, to match her lips. "I'm dangerous, Adara. Bad company. Others know it, so why not you?"

"No!"

"Yes," she corrected. "At times I go too far. Today, I was sent to the medics."

"And?"

"Nothing. I realized that I was wrong and said so. Camolsaer gave me a job refurbishing a corridor."

To revive old paint with new. To set fresh pigment on faded designs; work which required no skill, but did need concentration.

She said, "There was a place on my home world where they did things like that. Set people to make mats or weave tapestries on a loom. Insane people. Adara, am I insane?"

"No!" His protest was almost a shout. "No," he said again, more quietly. "You are not insane and never think that you are. Your values are different from ours and that is all."

"All?" She shrugged. "What else is insanity but a different set of values? An inability to accept what the majority regard as the norm? Tell me, my friend, when I use the words 'breaking point,' do you know what I mean?"

"The point at which any material, under stress, can no longer resist the pressure."

"Or the pull of opposing forces."

"Yes. You are precise, my dear."

"I'm a fool." She poured him wine and handed him the glass, refilling her own and gulping it down. As she again tilted the decanter she said, "I'm drinking too much, but what the hell? Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb."

"Your analogy escapes me."

"As do so many other things."

He said, to change the subject, "I saw Vivien and Dras in the pool. They're going to have a child."

"I know."

"And Rhun asked me to bring you to the chess match. He made a point of it."

"So?"

"You still have friends, Eloise. You're not alone."

"That is a matter of opinion." Immediately she softened. "I'm sorry, Adara, I know you and the others mean well, but-why the hell can't you understand?"

A question he had asked himself many times in the years he had known her. He had tried and, at times, imagined that he had succeeded. Then, as now, she would change into something almost alien.

He reached towards her where she stood, turned away from him, her face towards the window, Her hair was soft with a delicate sheen: yielding tactile pleasure to his questing hand, his stroking fingers.

"Adara!"

His hand fell from the tresses, a coldness at his heart, but she hadn't rejected him.

It was something else.