You Can't Buy Eternity!

by Dwight V. Swain

A woman's voice, low and husky and seductive.

Ross spun round, eyes distending.

Astrell reclined on the divan across the room in studied grace. The soft light smoothed her features so that when her lips curved in a slow smile she might have been younger by twenty years.

"Didn't you expect me, Thigpen?" she murmured. "I told you I'd come, you know."

Ross shrugged, not speaking. His face now had taken on a wooden look. Picking up the space-sack, he carried it to the bedroom, closing the door after him as he returned.

Still smiling, Astrell patted the seat beside her with a somewhat pudgy hand. "Come sit down, Thigpen."

Ross met her gaze coldly. "I don't think that's necessary, Astrell."

"Oh, but it is!" The woman rose from the couch as she spoke, and came to him. "It's not just the catalyst, my dear. I want to get to know you better."

"Do you?"

"Of course I do!" Astrell traced fluttery designs on the front of Ross' tunic with a long-nailed forefinger. Close up, her knuckles showed deep wrinkles. The skin along the backs of her hands was creping, too, and the flesh along her throat, beneath her eyes, and at the corners of her mouth was sagging visibly.