Mars the Divine (Empire of Time Series) by John Argo

Page 35.

The women had said very little until now. They were a brainy pair, well in command of their situation as they kept their tartan blankets wrapped around themselves and stirred honey into their teas.

I smiled. "It can't hurt to tell the truth."

This brought more gales of laughter. "You three are really too much," Tatnall said. He held his chest and gasped. "Oh God, Herbie, I haven't screamed like that in a long time."

"Really," Wells said. There was something in his eyes that intrigued me, a mix of melancholy and intelligence, buoyed by a determined spirit. He also had an eye for the ladies, and the robust attractiveness of the two priestesses did not escape his twinkling, mischievous eyes. The two women were very dedicated to their chastity, however, and no amount of winking and writhing by Wells could get any sort of positive response from them. There was one brief moment where he put his hand on Trini's shoulder in a rather sensuous way, and she deftly, without straining herself, put a pain grip on his wrist that made him turn silently purple with pain and terror. All she said, very quietly, was "No." Both men got the message, and that was the end of that. I was not under priestly vows anymore, since my expulsion ceremony included defrocking, but some habits die hard.

Tatnall was a bit more reserved that Wells, I found, but obviously a man of considerable qualities. A self-made millionaire at 30, as well as a professor of engineering, he was an accomplished man of his time and place. "We are dying to know more about the two Martian ladies who have deigned to grace our table this evening. Are you ladies beginning to recover from your chilly ordeal?"

"We are recovering nicely, thank you," Trini said.

I myself was beginning to become more aware how they must look to strangers. Trini, with her dark red hair, and Sindi, with her blonde hair, both had a scrubbed, fresh, youthful attractiveness. They were well-trained not only as priestesses, but in the combat arts of the Swat Guards. They were not women to trifle with, in short, but they carried themselves with soft-spoken gracefulness. The adjustment had made us shorter and squatter than we had been on Mars, and we seemed to fit in quite well in their world. That thought led me to ask: "Say, what is the name of your planet?"

This brought on renewed howls of laughter, as I had half expected it would.

Through tears rolling down his cheeks, Tatnall wailed: "Our planet! Oh that's rich. That is so good."

"We dwell on the planet Earth," said H. G. Wells with mock solemnity before bursting into renewed, helpless laughter. It went on and on like this for some time.

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