She searched his face. "Why, yes. Didn't Dad tell you there'd be five of us. After all, who'd want a slice of immortality more than a woman."
"Immortality for a goddess," Ferguson said blandly.
The soft, red mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. Then the brief look of annoyance was gone. "You will come, won't you?" she said.
Keating avoided her eyes. Again he found his gaze wandering to the wall mirror; looking at his own face, coarse and ruddy looking against Diane's soft white shoulder.
"Count me in," he said quietly.
III
Keating opened his eyes slowly, dimly aware of the familiar throbbing headache and a dull racking pain around the chest. Hazy-looking behind a galaxy of dancing spots was the instrument panel. He shook his head sideways—hard. The spots dissolved and the big panel board jumped into focus. The ship was two hundred miles above the Montauk Spaceport. He flicked a glance over his shoulder, half expecting to see the familiar blue uniforms of his fellow crewmates. Instead he saw three men and a girl—a girl with long shapely legs and taffy-blonde hair.
So it was true then. It hadn't been a dream after all.
After the passengers began to stir, he turned. "Have a nice sleep?" he asked.