But the marvelous thing was the water. Glorious clean hot liquid pulsed over Char's shoulders and down her back. Three cheers for artificial gravity! Windows in the bath and the bedroom looked out on the space side of the station. Beautiful when she didn't think about it. Terrifying when she did. Sky had raved about this view of the stars. No Mike yet. He'd left a message: Take as long as you like in the shower, then meet me at the Blue Marble. How did they do it? Down below, at least in the Pacific Zone, personal water was limited to seven gallons a week, including what you drank. The station's hydroponics annex must have turned out amazing. Her suite was like a cave in a fairy tale, not buried in the earth, but suspended at the cusp of space. Little bits of treasure were scattered about. The scented soaps. A ceramic cistern of cold water. A bowl of raspberries. A box of makeup with the seals unbroken. She dipped a sable brush in brick-colored mineral powder. She hadn't painted her face in ages, and now she went all the way with eyeliner and shadow and lip gloss.
