Flight Seven Nine Three, am-Munch to Slo, 23 Muharram,
1538 AH (3 November, 2113)
Watching Lee apply makeup to Ling's face struck Bongo as both odd and unsettling. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Getting ready to seduce a member of the crew, to take him out of play," Lee answered through Ling's mouth. "It will work a little better, you'll agree, if I look seductive."
"Did they give you a female makeup course for this mission?"
The Chinese laughed. "No." He laughed some more. "Dude, you haven't figured it out yet, have you?"
"Figured what out?"
"I'm gay. When I say 'seduce,' I mean seduce."
"Fuck."
"Only if necessary." The Chinese reached into Ling's small handbag and, smiling, produced a tube of lubricant. "But if necessary . . . "
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