She hadn’t seen him nearly enough to get her fill, even though she’d managed to convince herself that what she felt wasn’t real. It was more in the nature of a crush, or maybe hero worship like a woman might develop for a man that seemed larger than life, extraordinary- like an entertainer or sports figure or powerful politician. She just needed to work it out of her system and try to break the spell he’d woven over her so that she could see him for what he truly was-probably a completely ordinary individual if not a galactic con artist who’d considered she might be useful to him in some way.

    Well, she supposed she had. She’d done her utmost to influence her own government favorably-not that she thought she’d actually succeeded, but she had doggedly refused to put a negative spin on her interpretations.

    She hadn’t managed to get him out of her head or work him out of her system, though. She didn’t think if she’d spent every single night with him since his arrival that she would’ve been able to, but she hadn’t gotten the chance. His visits seemed deliberately random. He’d come the first night he arrived and for two nights running after that and then she hadn’t seen him for two days-not privately, anyway.

    She was pretty sure that his visits had been deliberately random. What she wasn’t sure of was whether it was calculated to keep her off guard or if it was to eliminate the risks of predictability if it had been discovered that he was visiting her. She wanted to think the latter but then she was painfully aware that she was eager to explain away her own doubts.

    In spite of everything, it was a relief to be dismissed. They weren’t even allowed to stay and watch the signing, the most historical signing in the history of the solar system! Sybil was just glad to be able to reach her quarters where she had a little privacy and didn’t have to guard her tongue or her expressions anymore. She simply sat staring at the walls once she had, her mind strangely empty for a while. After a time, thoughts and emotions began to trickle back, however, and she began to wonder if this was to be her very last night, ever, with Anka, or if he wouldn’t come at all and she’d actually already had her last night with him the night before last. Would she even get the chance to say good-bye to him?

    She wanted to be alone with him-just one last time-so she could do and say all the completely stupid things she’d been bursting to. She was willing to settle for a public good-bye if that was all she could get, but she had a bad feeling that wasn’t likely. They’d kept the Sumpturians carefully segregated the entire time. It didn’t seem likely they’d lift that ban now.

    She discovered when she’d been summoned to report to her commanding officer that she was wrong. The President had decided to throw a gala to celebrate the agreement-and hopefully to impress them with American wealth and power, she was sure. She and the other liaisons had been invited to attend. Otherwise, it was only the upper crust that would be attending.

    She was instantly sorry that she didn’t have the outfit Anka had given her anymore. She supposed it wouldn’t have been acceptable even if she had, though, and it was just as well she hadn’t been tempted to flout convention and wear it considering the snooty would be in overwhelming attendance.

    Expecting a dismissal at least from her services as a liaison, she discovered that the real reason she’d been summoned was because she hadn’t returned the papers agreeing to serve another tour of duty. Caught off guard, she stammered her way through an explanation for her decision not to sign up for another tour.

    He wasn’t pleased. She could see that, but she thought she could endure his displeasure for the month or so that she had left. She didn’t regret the decision. She was afraid she might eventually, but she didn’t at the moment. She was just sorry that she had to stay that long. She would’ve loved to have been free to brush the moon dust from her boots immediately after the Sumpturians departed and head back to Earth.

    To say nothing had turned out the way she’d hoped and planned would’ve been an understatement, but she realized she also wasn’t sorry that she’d been snatched from the Mars mission and sent to Venus instead. Whatever happened, she couldn’t regret having known Anka. Her memories might be bittersweet, but at least she would have them and what a tale it would be for her children and grandchildren!

    If she ever had any.

    Shrugging her depression off, she headed back to her quarters after she was dismissed, determined to spend the time before the gala primping as she’d never primped before. It was her last chance! She was going to knock Anka’s socks off if it was at all possible!

* * * *

    Sybil had splurged. Once she’d examined her wardrobe and discarded everything in it, she’d left the base and headed to the Fontainebleu, a luxury hotel for wealthy tourists. More specifically, she’d headed to the clothing stores on the first level for the rich and famous where she’d managed to knock such a huge hole in her savings that she was still suffering from sticker shock when she finally reached the party several hours later. She’d gone one step further and, next to the purchase of the dress, it was the most outrageous thing she’d ever done in her life- she’d rented a room for the night and arranged to have a pickup at the conference center.

    She hoped she wasn’t going to be spending the night alone in the most expensive hotel room she’d ever rented!

    She was such a nervous wreck by the time she reached the security check that she thought she might faint or worse, be sick. Her stomach was a churning mass of nerves, though, and it took an effort to try to calm it when her mind was pure mush. Fortunately, she supposed, she met up with Holly Rains and Reed Powell in the security line. Holly looked like she was in as bad a shape as Sybil was, which mystified Sybil until it occurred to her that the poor thing was probably hoping to meet up with Beckt again.

    For all she knew, she realized, Beckt was part of the party and had been sneaking into the base to see Holly just as Anka had come to her.

    “I’m so nervous,” Holly muttered. “Is it hot in here to you? Or is it just me?”

    “Actually, I thought it was a little cool,” Sybil responded absently.

    Holly stared at her a moment and then scanned the dress that had set Sybil back a quarter of year’s savings. “That does look a bit… airish.”

    Sybil glared at her even though she knew it was true. It had been the closest thing she could find to the outfit Anka had given her, though.

    Actually, she thought it was probably a lot more risqué than the one she’d had. The material was certainly thinner and more clingy. It was backless, as that outfit had been, and slit well up one thigh, but it was black.

    She felt a good deal better in the black. White always made her feel like a beached whale and she was already suffering self-consciousness over premenstrual bloating. Anyway, she was a blond and white just made her look more washed out-like something that had crawled out from under a rock. “This is a formal,” she said stiffly.

    “You look beautiful,” Reed Powell said gallantly.

    Sybil reddened, struggling with discomfort over the compliment, but she was pleased to have a male opinion. “Thanks.”

    Fortunately, they were allowed to move on just then where they bottlenecked with the reception line. Music had already begun to waft from the conference center turned ballroom long before she reached the beginning of the receiving line and Sybil was in a fever of impatience to get inside, checking her time piece every five seconds for fear she’d turn into a damned pumpkin and miss the transport she’d paid for before she even got inside. A jolt went through her when she discovered that the receiving line was made up of the dignitaries attending and their spouses. She didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to her, but then she’d never been invited to such an elite gala in her life.