Not until then did Ronson really see the girl. He blinked startled
eyes at her. Human women were rare on Mars, here in this place near
the south pole they should not exist at all. No woman in her right
mind would come here. But one was here, and a darned attractive one at
that. She was tall, lithe, and full breasted. The hair peeping out from
under the tight fitting-helmet was a shade of red. If she had a fault
in her figure, it was the fact that her hips were too narrow--she was
as slender as a boy--but Ronson was not inclined to criticize her for
that. Not when she had just saved his clothes and maybe his life.
As the last Martian dodged around the corner, she turned her attention
to him. A smile lit her face.
"Dr. Ronson! A privilege to meet you, sir." Hand outstretched, smiling,
she moved around the victims of her needle gun and came toward him.
Ronson stared at her in bewildered consternation. He had not thought
that anyone on Mars would even know his name, he had not wanted
anyone to know his identity. Especially not in this place. He barely
remembered his manners in time to take the hand offered him.
"I'm Jennie Ware," the girl said.
"It's nice to meet you, Miss Ware." Where had he heard or seen this
name before? "I want--ah--to thank you for helping me out of a spot."
"It was nothing," she said smiling. "Always glad to help my fellow men."
"You certainly went into action fast." He glanced at Te Hold, sleeping
in the street. On the sidewalk near the corner, another Martian was
taking a nap. Only the leper was still in sight and awake.
"I had these needles coated with a special narcotic designed to affect
the Martian nervous system. As to my going into action fast, I've
discovered that you have to be firm with these Martians," she answered
smiling.
Stooping, he retrieved his hat. "How did you know me?"
A little flicker of amusement showed in her eyes. "Why shouldn't I
recognize Earth's foremost bio-physicist and leading authority on
cellular structure? Come on in. I'll buy you a drink. You'll love this
place. They've even got a waiter who thinks he can speak English."
"Thanks," Ronson said. "I'll take you up on that." He was astonished
and bewildered by this woman. He had spent most of his life in
the laboratories of Earth. The women who had been there had been
flat-breasted, pale creatures in low-heeled shoes who had called him
"Sir," and "Doctor," and who had obviously been greatly in awe of
him but who had apparently never had a red-blooded thought in their
lives. He had regarded them as a sort of neuter sex, creatures who had
obviously been intended by nature to be female but who had gotten their
hormones mixed up somewhere along the line. This girl was different.
Her name, somehow, had a haunting familiarity, as if he had heard it
somewhere before. But he couldn't remember where.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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