Somebody Else's Space Program
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Chapter Twenty Three "Gold is for the Mistress, Silver for the Maid
Copper for the Craftsman, cunning at his trade."
"Mister Worrell! There's a delivery for you. Need your signature."
John shrugged, "I'm not expecting anything. Is there a return address?"
"Just the town name -- San Heliodoro. That's a hundred miles south of here."
John signed and took the box. His hand dropped from the unexpected weight. "What the devil..." He took the box inside and put it on the table.
The handwriting on the address was strange. He opened the box with his pocketknife... a note was tucked into the top, above another paper-wrapped bundle.
"This is the best I could do for you. I'll be back when I can. -- Ricky."
Inside the bundle were coins. Fifty silver dollars. "Ricky, _what_ did you _do_?"
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"He's outside the church now."
"Good. I'll meet him," Ricky said. She looked down at the dress -- it didn't fit well, but it was the best she could do.
Into the sanctuary. Ricky knelt before the image of the Holy Mother, clearing her mind. She could tolerate anything. And eventually, she could run away.
The door to the town square opened, outlining a figure in brilliant light before it closed again. Then steps, hesitant, as someone waited for his sundazzled eyes to adjust. "Enriqueta Villatuya?"
"I am here." She rose, moved into the center aisle. "Don Espiridion."
He studied her for an instant, puzzled. "You..." Then laughter. "You were the one who demanded the bounty! How did you get it out to your friend? Or is it still here?"
"It's gone. But my bargain was good -- here I am."
"Yes. Come with me, please."
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Don Espiridion's home was large and lavish by local standards. "Maria, show Enriqueta to her room."
"Ricky. My name is Ricky."
"Enriqueta," Espiridion insisted. "Dinner will be at seven. Maria will assist you in dressing."
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A long soak. Maria came in and put her hair into curlers, extremely uncomfortable. She scolded Ricky over the state of her hands and feet. Maria lavished oils on the calluses, to very little avail.
Out of the bath, powdered and perfumed, her hair dried and lightly brushed out. Then Maria lowered the gown over Ricky's upstretched arms, onto her shoulders.
Way too much of the dress was off the shoulder for her tastes. If the gown had been any color than white, she would have ducked out from under it and refused to wear it. But white was tolerable.
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Dinner was in the dining room, softly lit with candles, white plates gleaming on dark wood. Don Espiridion rose as Ricky entered the room. "You are very beautiful."
She shrugged, if you say so. She slid into the chair at the other end of the table from him.
They ate in silence. Don Espiridion's servants served the food, refilled the wine glasses. Finally, after a sweet pastry, Ricky said, "What do you want of me?"
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The portrait in the study was of a beautiful woman in the fashion of half a century before. "This was my wife. She bore me one son." Ricky listened... "My son is also dead. Some years ago, I found that he had had a liason, and the woman had borne him a child. Were there any other children from him, I would have let your live your life in peace. But you are my only surviving kin."
He looked so serious -- she couldn't help it, she blurted out, "I should have held out for the five hundred."
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