Free Tales of the Flying Mountains by Poul Anderson

can you keep everybody off the porch for a while then? Starlight, privacy, soft music on the piccolo—who knows what I might find out?”
    â€œYou won’t get anything from her, ” Avis spat. “No secrets or … or anything.”
    â€œStill, I look forward to making the attempt. C’mon, pal, pass the word. I’ll do as much for you sometime.”
    â€œTimes like that never seem to come for me,” Chung groaned.
    â€œOh let him play around with his suicide blonde,” Avis said furiously. “We others have work to do. I … I’ll tell you what, Jimmy. Let’s not eat in the mess tonight. I’ll draw our rations and fix us something special in your cabin.”
    A scooter was not exactly the ideal steed for a knight to convey his lady. It amounted to little more than three saddles and a locker, set atop an accumulator-powered gyrogravitic engine, sufficient to lift you off an asteroid and run at low acceleration. There were no navigating instruments. You locked the autopilot’s radar-gravitic sensors onto your target object and it took you there, avoiding any bits of débris that might pass near; but you must watch the distance indicator and press the deceleration switch in time. If the ’pilot was turned off, free maneuver became possible, but that was a dangerous thing to try before you were almost on top of your destination. Stereoscopic vision fails beyond six or seven meters, and the human organism isn’t equipped to gauge cosmic momenta.
    Nevertheless, Ellen was enchanted. “This is like a dream,” her voice murmured in Blades’s earplug. “The whole universe, on every side of us. I could almost reach out and pluck those stars.
    â€œYou must have trained in powered spacesuits at the Academy,” he said for lack of a more poetic rejoinder.
    â€œYes, but that’s not the same. We had to stay near Luna’s night side, to be safe from solar particles, and it bit a great chunk out of the sky. And then everything was so—regulated, disciplined—we did what we were ordered to do, and that was that. Here I feel free. You can’t imagine how free.” Hastily: “Do you use this machine often?”
    â€œWell, yes, we have about twenty scooters at the station. They’re the most convenient way of flitting with a load; out to the mirrors to change accumulators, for instance, or across to one of the companion rocks where we’re digging some ores that the Sword doesn’t have. That kind of work.” Blades would frankly rather have had her behind him on a motorskimmer hanging on as they careened through a springtime countryside. He was glad when they reached the main forward air lock and debarked.
    He was still gladder when the suits were off. Lieutenant Ziska in dress uniform was stunning, but Ellen in civvies, a fluffy low-cut blouse and close-fitting slacks, was a hydrogen blast. He wanted to roll over and pant, but settled for saying, “Welcome back” and holding her hand rather longer than necessary.
    With a shy smile, she gave him a package. “I drew this before leaving,” she said. “I thought, well, your life is so austere—”
    â€œA demi of Sandeman,” he said reverently. “I won’t tell you you shouldn’t have, but I will tell you you’re a sweet girl.”
    â€œNo, really.” She flushed. “After we’ve put you to so much trouble.”
    â€œLet’s go crack this,” he said. “The Pallas has called in, but she won’t be visible for a while yet.”
    They made their way to the verandah, picking up a couple of glasses en route. Bless his envious heart. Jimmy had warned the other boys off as requested. I hope Avis cooks him a Cordon Bleu dinner , Blades thought. Nice kid, Avis, if she’d quit trying to … what? … mother me? He forgot about her, with Ellen to seat by the rail.
    The Milky Way turned her