the slide. He jumped, raising both legs at the same time so he looked like a man doing a seat-drop on a trampoline. He landed on his butt and slid to the bottom. It was neatly done; the foot of the slide barely moved. He hit the tarmac with his stockinged feet, stood up, twirled around, and made a mock bow with his arms held out behind him.
"Easy as pie!" he called up. "Next customer!"
"That's you, miss," Brian said. "Is it Bethany?"
"Yes," she said nervously. "I don't think I can do this. I flunked gym all three semesters and they finally let me take home ec again instead."
"You'll do fine," Brian told her. He reflected that people used the slide with much less coaxing and a lot more enthusiasm when there was a threat they could see - a hole in the fuselage or a fire in one of the portside engines. "Shoes off?"
Bethany's shoes - actually a pair of old pink sneakers - were off, but she tried to withdraw from the doorway and the bright-orange slide just the same. "Maybe if I could just have a drink before - "
"Mr Hopewell's holding the slide and you'll be fine," Brian coaxed, but he was beginning to be afraid he might have to push her. He didn't want to, but if she didn't jump soon, he would. You couldn't let them go to the end of the line until their courage returned; that was the big no-no when it came to the escape slide. If you did that, they all wanted to go to the end of the line.
"Go on, Bethany," Albert said suddenly. He had taken his violin case from the overhead compartment and held it tucked under one arm. "I'm scared to death of that thing, and if you go, I'll have to."
She looked at him, surprised. "Why?"
Albert's face was very red. "Because you're a girl," he said simply. "I know I'm a sexist rat, but that's it."
Bethany looked at him a moment longer, then laughed and turned to the slide. Brian had made up his mind to push her if she looked around or drew back again, but she didn't. "Boy, I wish I had some grass," she said, and jumped.
She had seen Nick's seat-drop maneuver and knew what to do, but at the last moment she lost her courage and tried to get her feet under her again. As a result, she skidded to one side when she came down on the slide's bouncy surface. Brian was sure she was going to tumble off, but Bethany herself saw the danger and managed to roll back. She shot down the slope on her right side, one hand over her head, her blouse rucking up almost to the nape of her neck. Then Nick caught her and she stepped off.
"Oh boy," she said breathlessly. "Just like being a kid again."
"Are you all right?" Nick asked.
"Yeah. I think I might have wet my pants a little, but I'm okay."
Nick smiled at her and turned back to the slide.
Albert looked apologetically at Brian and extended the violin case. "Would you mind holding this for me? I'm afraid if I fall off the slide, it might get broken. My folks'd kill me. It's a Gretch."
Brian took it. His face was calm and serious, but he was smiling inside. "Could I look? I used to play one of these about a thousand years ago."
"Sure," Albert said.
Brian's interest had a calming effect on the boy... which was exactly what he had hoped for. He unsnapped the three catches and opened the case. The violin inside was indeed a Gretch, and not from the bottom of that prestigious line, either. Brian guessed you could buy a compact car for the amount of money this had cost.
"Beautiful," he said, and plucked out four quick notes along the neck: My dog has fleas. They rang sweetly and beautifully. Brian closed and latched the case again. "I'll keep it safe. Promise."
"Thanks." Albert stood in the doorway, took a deep breath, then let it out again. "Geronimo," he said in a weak little voice and jumped. He tucked his hands into his armpits as he did so - protecting his hands in any situation where physical damage was possible was so ingrained in him that it had become a reflex. He seat-dropped onto the slide and shot neatly to the bottom.