"Yes sir, for forty-two days. Excuse me sir, I think null gravity is making that lady ill."
After carefully wiping his palm on his coatsleeve he replaced his unlit cigar in his broad, gleaming face. He was in the smiling sensuality of a daydream when the powder-room door clicked.
His wife was beautiful.
Uptilting his cigar he watched her drift down the aisle. With one scarlet-tipped finger she prevented her diaphanous skirt from floating very high above her knees. A lovely lady. He champed on the cigar. It's not every man whose wife is a natural blonde ex-starlet young enough to be his daughter.
But a little discipline was in order.
"Landa, I wish you had remembered to have Hykato pack my golf things."
"Edwin please, this null gravity is upsetting my tummy."
"Well, it's the least you could have done."
"And how would we have gotten it on the ship?" her voice shrilled unexpectedly. "You embarrassed me enough as it was."