"How are the shoes?" Wixa's voice came from the bathroom.

"They hurt," Maiga said, scowling over at the ridiculous things lying on the floor.

"Never mind that." Wixa came out; drying her hands, then tossed the towel back into Maiga's bathroom. "How do they look?"

"Okay, I suppose." Maiga shrugged. "I never got used to those things. What's the point of them?"

"The point of them is to make your legs look great."

"Are you implying my legs don't look great anyway?"

"Those shoes will make them look even better. Trust me, high heeled shoes have extraordinary powers. They can make any man putty in your hands."

"That sounds rather messy."

"Only if you don't take precautions."

"Wixa!" Maiga glared at her. Nothing of that sort would happen tonight. Much too soon. She had to go slow. Chervaz seemed the type who'd respect that.

Wixa sat on Maiga's bed and picked up the coffee cup she had on the nightstand. She'd insisted on coming to help Maiga get ready for her date with Chervaz. A real date this time, involving dressing up in an actual dress.

"You'd better put your makeup on," Wixa said.

"I have my makeup on."

"Oh! Then you'd better go and put some more makeup on."

"Shut up, Wixa." She had on quite enough.

"Your hair looks nice though, those clips are pretty."

Maiga raised a hand and touched the small jewelled clips in her hair, which Wixa had brought along for her. "Something borrowed," she'd said, and laughed for no readily apparent reason.

"Thanks for them."

"Your hair is a nice colour you know, you should grow it longer."

"No." She had to be careful not to snap the word out. Wixa didn't know, couldn't know the reason why Maiga could never wear her hair long. That's the way he liked it. He liked the dresses too, that's all he gave her to wear. Even high heeled shoes. She never put those on.

Tesla hadn't wanted her. He'd wanted a doll that looked like her. One he could take out and play with when he wanted to. He betrayed Ilyan and the others to their deaths, just so he could have some idealised version of Maiga.

He'd have killed her in the end, she knew that. Not with his own hands of course. He'd have had one of the guards do it, or simply stopped feeding her, or pumped in the nerve gas till it reached lethal levels. She wasn't only a constant reminder of his guilt, but a constant reminder that he could never have what he wanted. She was still the real Maiga, despite the hair and the dresses.

And the real Maiga hated him.

"You okay?" Wixa said, looking up at her. Maiga shook herself and turned to look in the mirror. She shouldn't think about Tesla. Forget the past. Look forward. She wore this dress now for a good man, who just wanted to spend time with her. A man she already trusted.

She put the ridiculous shoes on and looked in the long mirror again. The blue-green dress reached to her knees and the silver coloured shoes did indeed make her legs look good, longer, the ankles slimmer. A pair of delicate silver earrings hung from her ears. Wixa had picked much of this out at the boutiques on the plaza. Without her help, Maiga would have had little clue what to wear. Dressing like this had never been part of her life. Even on leave. Even with...

No, not now, she thought as her eyes grew hot and her throat tightened. Not now. Wixa is here. She's looking, staring. But the thought came anyway. She had never dressed like this for Ilyan. He called her beautiful many times, and she thought he was just a sweet and romantic fool. Now she could see that yes, she could have been beautiful.

"Maiga?"

Maiga backed up and sat down heavily on the bed. The tears escaped, she couldn't stop them. Not all of the tears she'd long ago dammed up. But a trickle squeezed through.

"What's wrong, honey?" Wixa said, sounding alarmed. She knelt up on the bed and put her arms around Maiga at once. "Come on, you can tell me."

She couldn't and yet she wished she could. Maiga had started to trust Wixa, on many levels, including emotionally. Perhaps she could hint.

"Just..." She paused and tried to find something to dry her face. Wixa handed over the shawl she'd come in wearing and Maiga dabbed at her face with a corner of it, the rough wool feeling scratchy on her skin. "Just thinking about someone. Someone I never..." She shook her head. "It's stupid. I'm sorry." The tears stopped. It was stupid. Ilyan had loved her without having to see her in a dress. Would he have loved her more if he had? Hardly. He'd wanted her, not a doll.

"I'd better fix my makeup." She stood up, picking up the shawl. "Can I borrow this?"

"Of course." Wixa looked worried, or perhaps disappointed that she hadn't got any more from Maiga. She still wore that expression when Maiga came back out of the bathroom, a hasty makeup fix later. Wrapping the shawl around her bare shoulders Maiga nodded to Wixa.

"I'd better go."

"Well have a nice time. I'm sure you will. Chervaz is a sweetheart. I'll just finish my coffee and go."

"Okay. Leave when you're ready." Maiga gave her a quick warning look. "Don't go through my stuff."

"Go through your stuff?" Wixa looked outraged. "What do you think I am?"

"Nosey."

It wouldn't matter. She'd find nothing compromising. "Make sure you lock the door." She tossed the end of the shawl over her shoulder and strode out, silently cursing the damn shoes.

~o~

He talks so much.

She sat across the table from Chervaz, at one of the Plaza's more formal restaurants and watched him talking. Watched rather than listened, really, didn't hear most of it. Was it nerves that made him go on so?

Then again Ilyan could talk just as much and he couldn't be called nervous. She'd fallen in love with him talking. Before that she'd been attracted to him, but listening to him talk had taken her to the next level. Damn, doing it again, comparing them. Both talkers though, so hard not to compare. And of course she wasn't a talker herself. Someone had to fill the silence.

There was still one thing he hadn't mentioned though, even though dinner was cleared away, the bill paid and they had lingered over their wine for some time.

"I hear you had a visitor in your office, while I was off the station."

The questioning look he gave her was sincere. Of course, plenty of people must visit his office.

"Captain Bara."

"Oh," a shadow passed over his face. "Yes, she came in. Out of curiosity, she said. Though I'm sure there was more to it than that."

"Well, you've been keen to meet her for an interview. So what did you think of her?"

Chervaz shifted in his seat and grimaced. "To be honest, she made me... nervous." He shook his head. "Shall we take our drinks over to the lounge?"

Quick subject change there, Maiga noted, but nodded and they took their glasses to the lounge, and sat on a plump and comfortable sofa. Maiga pulled the shawl around her, glad to put it on. She had felt too exposed during the meal while it lay on the back of her chair. Crossing her legs, she noticed Chervaz's gaze run down the calf to the strappy and painful shoe. Ah, the 'putty in her hands' effect Wixa mentioned.

It seemed he didn't want to change the subject after all, since when he turned back to her he continued to talk about Bara, just rather more quietly. Smart, Maiga thought. Who knows who might be listening?

"She has a kind of charisma, don't you find?" Chervaz said. "It's impossible not to watch her, listen to her."

Maiga nodded. Ilyan had the same thing. A compelling presence that helped him at his meetings, when he told people about his predictions. Bara did have some of that. But from the look in Chervaz's eyes a large dose of fear came with it. He won't admit she frightens him though, Maiga knew, he's a man after all.

"She induces a kind of attraction and repulsion at once." Chervaz went on. "It could be quite dangerous, I think."

"Dangerous?"

"She can draw people to her, followers. I've heard some disturbing stories about what she's been doing on her visits to the station the last couple of weeks. I think she has some kind of agenda."

"Really?"

"She's making friends, but quite selectively. She has a plan." He shook his head and bit his lip. "I just wish I could work it out."

"So you could report it under Important if True?"

He laughed. "That would probably be the best place for it."

Bara was on the station right now, Maiga knew, and wished she knew exactly where and what she might be up to. What had she been doing in the clinic yesterday?

Maiga shook her head. She shouldn't worry about it. What did it matter what Bara might be up to? Whatever is was, it probably had the possibility of messing things up around here, screwing up the status quo. But so what if it did? Maiga could stock up the Friss and bug out of here on a day's notice. This wasn't home.

Wixa called it home though. Could Maiga leave her high and dry? Well, perhaps if things were dangerous, then the ship did after all sleep two, they'd go together.

And Chervaz? She looked at him, his troubled frown, worrying about Bara. Worrying about the station. He likes it here. Even if he hadn't been here much longer than Maiga had, he'd put down roots already. Roots made of paper in his case. So he worried.

Then Maiga frowned too, not from worry, but annoyance. Hey, mister, you're on a date with me. What's all this preoccupation with another woman? The thought made her smile. Not jealousy, but more a feeling of being taken for granted.

I'm right here and I look great, and I want him to go home thinking about me.

"Chervaz."

He looked at her, curious to hear what she had to say. But she didn't say anything. Rather she leaned in close and kissed him. Quite a brief kiss, a soft touch of the lips, barely enough pressure to feel the bristle of his skin before she pulled away again. It had been hard to close her eyes as she leaned in. But she trusted him enough now. As she moved back, his eyes opened and locked onto hers. He would go to sleep thinking of her. He would wake thinking of her.

Conscious that she really wasn't good at this kind of thing and that if she stayed around she'd likely mess things up, she rose.

"Goodnight. I'll call you tomorrow."

"I... goodnight? Let me walk you..."

He moved to stand too, but too slow. She turned and made for the door, giving him a last look and a smile over her shoulder. He raised his hand in a goodbye wave, still wearing a stunned look. Then she was outside and at once she stopped to slip off the damn shoes because she couldn't take them one damn second longer.

She walked home on bare feet.