Chapter 12

Mars didn't have that much of a night life back then, not when you compare it to Earth anyway. That didn't mean we didn't have any nice places to go out to. If you compare the best Earth had to offer and the best Mars had, the restaurant we went to would have been a three-star compared to Earth's five-star. Eve didn't look very impressed when we entered the atrium.

"I know it's not what you're used to," I apologized.

She frowned and then sighed as she shook her head. "I'm being a bitch again, aren't I?"

"No," I assured her. "I meant it. It's not what you're used to. I understand that."

"I have to learn to be more flexible," she stated.

"Not a bad idea no matter what happens in the future," I added. Walking over to the maître d' station I said, "Nelson, table for two; we have a reservation."

"Of course, Sir," he said looking at his screen. He looked at Eve, hesitated for a second and then said, "Sir, we have a policy, no, ah, concubines." Their monitors would have noted her chip as soon as we walked in.

"She's not my concubine, she's my date," I responded. I adjusted my credit ring and held it out nonchalantly towards him. His own cred-ring bumped mine and he glanced at the readout.

"Very good, Sir," he said raising his eyebrows. "That certainly makes a difference. Your table will be ready shortly."

Eve was giggling when I walked back to her. "What?"

"That was about as smooth as I've ever seen," she said with a smile. I hadn't seen her smile, really smile, very often but it was pretty devastating when she did.

"Oh, you saw that?" I asked sheepishly.

"Seen it plenty of times," she waved her hand dismissively. "You wouldn't believe how many times my date had to do something like that when I was underage."

"Your parents let you go to places like that when you were that young?" I was surprised.

"Since I was fourteen," she snorted. "For the right ... gentleman ... it wasn't so much allowed as required."

"That's..." I shut my mouth quickly.

"Eve was right; I'm a whore," she said emotionlessly. "My mother was my pimp."

"You are not a whore, Eve," I said forcefully. "Not then, not now. What your mother did was despicable ... No, I don't want to talk about that now. Here, let's go to our table."

"Kee said we should get to know each other," she started again when we had been seated. "If we are, then you need to know exactly what I am. I'm an ornament, a prize, a body to be auctioned off to the highest bidder or the one with the best business deal. It hasn't been quite as bad since mother died. But father just stopped pushing me out for 'test drives, ' letting them come to him before allowing me to accompany his suitors. That's right: it wasn't me they were after, it was father's money, or the company. I was just the means to an end."

"That's a shame, Eve. You're worth the pursuit alone, not just for what you have or could get."

"I don't know how you could say that," she snorted. "I'm nothing but an empty shell: a nice bod with nothing inside."

"Bullshit," I said forcefully. "You're a hell of a lot more than that. Sure, you're beautiful. Okay, to be honest you're the most beautiful and elegant woman I've ever seen, let alone met. That's no small thing and I say that as a normal man. What you do to our hormones should be illegal. But that's not everything you are. What you are is what's inside and outside. I admit I don't know who the real Eve is in there; I'm not sure you really know who you are; you haven't had the chance. But I think maybe you're starting to discover who is in there under the pretty wrapping. I think you'll find part of it you aren't going to like, but parts you will. That just makes you human, Eve, just like the rest of us."

"So are there parts of Toliver Nelson you don't like?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, quite a few," I sighed. We talked, talked a lot. About her childhood and how she lived; about my childhood and growing up in what she would probably consider poverty. We talked about the war and why I joined up and what I did. I tried to be honest even though there was a lot of that I really wanted to forget. I let it all out there: the good, the bad and the really ugly. I think it was good for both of us. We talked for what seemed like just a short time but before I realized it dinner had come and gone and it was time to go home.

"That was fun," she said as we walked. She actually reached out and held my hand. It was kind of sweet. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome. I enjoyed it too." I really did.

"So, are you going to pork me now?"

I groaned. "Miss Dubois needs to have her bottom spanked, or her mouth washed out with soap."

"Eww, I'd like to see that," she laughed. "She's pretty tough. Maybe Kee will take bets."

"Age and treachery will overcome youth and skill anytime," I smirked. "I may be old but I never fight fair."

"I don't think she does either," Eve observed. I could only nod, I couldn't see Terry letting fairness getting in the way of a good scrap, or winning.

One thing you can say about Mars is it doesn't have much crime, at least street crime. Marsmen are too ruggedly independent for that. It doesn't mean there isn't any, though, especially if some yahoo gets a snoot-full and begins to think the world owes him a favor. We were cutting through one of the local sunrooms which was fairly deserted at that time of night when I noticed three big bruisers heading our way on the path. I wasn't too worried but I brushed my hand over the budge in the small of my back. Like most Marsmen I pack a pistol when I'm out and about; my old 2mm service pistol to be exact. It fires a small three gram round but it leaves the muzzle at about Mach 4 so what it hits knows it's been hit. Some people like the big fat bullets but my little palm-sized pistol carries fifty caseless rounds and that's a lot of firepower as far as I'm concerned.

"What do we have here?" one of the bruisers said as they came up to us. Crap, nothing is ever easy, is it?

"Just going home, friend," I said easily. I put my arm around Eve and moved her slightly behind me.

"God damn, that's a looker!" another said. They'd been drinking, I could smell. Not stumble-down drunk unfortunately, but lose-your-inhabitations type of drunk, the worst kind.

"Nice piece of cunt. How much she go for a night?" They assumed Eve was a prostitute or a rental slave which considering a girl like her with a guy like me wasn't such an unreasonable assumption.

"This is my wife, friend," I said a little firmer. "I don't appreciate that kind of talk."

"I don't think so," the first one grinned and his buddy nearest me made his move.

Now, I was sniper, I didn't get involved in the hand-to-hand stuff if I could avoid it. I left that to the big guys with the sloped brows and stupid smiles. That didn't mean I could always avoid it. The first thing I did was shove Eve backwards hard enough that she sat down with a huff. I spun and let my boot toe connect with the guys chin, that stung a bit but he toppled over backwards and I moved on to the next. He was stupid and let me get close enough for me to jab him in the throat with my stiffened fingers, he stumbled back hands around his throat trying to breathe.

The third man was reaching under his jacket when I hit him in the chest with a drop kick to the sternum. He went down but started to get back up so I kicked him in the side of the head and then again in the balls just for good measure. He was down. I pulled my pistol and pointed it at Mr. Throat who was still gasping for breath. He just put one hand up in surrender and sat down hard. Nodding, I moved back to help Eve to her feet.

"Sorry about that," I said reaching my free hand down to help her up, my pistol still pointed at Mr. Throat. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she whispered. She was looking up at me and I swear her eyes must have been forty centimeters across and practically bugging out of her head. I pulled her up and bent down checking her heels to make sure they weren't broken. I would have bet against the ten centimeters stilettos making it unharmed but from what I could see they were fine; so were her feet. They were just as pretty as the rest of her and that's not something you can normally say about feet. I know some men have a real fetish for feet but, for the most part, to me they just look ... functional.

"Do we need to notify the police?" she asked. I glanced over at the two unconscious ones and could tell they were still alive.

"Want me to call the badges?" I asked Mr. Throat. He wheezed and shook his head vigorously.

"Guess not," I answered Eve. "Let's get you home."

"There were three of them," she said with a hushed voice as we walked out of the sunroom and into one of the main corridors. I'd put the pistol away and now she was holding onto my arm with both of hers, rather tightly I might add.

"Good thing too," I said."

"Why?"

"Because if there had been more I would have had to kill them and then we would have had to call the police," I replied. "The last thing I need right now would be all that stupid paperwork and we don't need the official notice."

"You would have killed them?" she gasped. "Just to protect me?"

"Eve," I tried to explain, "sometimes you just do what you have to do. You're my responsibility, in my care; protecting you doesn't come under the heading of 'just.' I'd do a lot more than just kill some dumbasses out on a drunk to protect any of you girls if I had to." She didn't say anything more but her grip on my arm tightened even more and I hadn't thought that was possible.

When we got home Terry and Keelin were waiting for us in the common room. They were all smiles until they saw the look on Eve's face and they rushed over to her immediately.

"What did you do to her?" Terry demanded as she rounded on me.