Homeward Bound Part 51

When Johnson said that out loud, Walter Stone shook his head. "Not quite yet," he said. "We still have another few weeks of serious duties to perform. Till the Commodore Perry Commodore Perry goes to Earth and then comes back here, we're the ones on the spot. Up to us to keep the Lizards from doing something everybody would regret." goes to Earth and then comes back here, we're the ones on the spot. Up to us to keep the Lizards from doing something everybody would regret."

He was right. He usually was. And yet, his being right suddenly seemed to matter very little. "Yes, sir," Johnson said. "Sorry about that. We're not a historical afterthought right this minute. But we will be any day now."

Stone gave him a fishy stare. "You never have had the right att.i.tude, have you?"

Johnson shrugged, there in the control room. "The right att.i.tude? I don't know anything about that. All I know is, we're about the most obsolete set of s.p.a.cemen G.o.d ever made. We spent all those years weightless, and now we can't be anything else. And we made a fine, successful crew for a cold-sleep starship-the only problem being that they won't make any more of those. Buggy whips, slide rules-and us. What do the Russians call it? The ash-heap of history, that's what it is. And that's where we're at."

Brigadier General Stone's gaze got fishier yet. "If we are, Johnson, you're still a pain in the ash."

"Aiii!" Johnson looked back reproachfully. "And here I thought you were you, and not Mickey Flynn." Johnson looked back reproachfully. "And here I thought you were you, and not Mickey Flynn."

"Is someone taking my name in vain?" Flynn asked from the corridor that led into the interior of the Admiral Peary. Admiral Peary. He came out into the control room a moment later. "How did I get into trouble without even being here?" He came out into the control room a moment later. "How did I get into trouble without even being here?"

"Native talent?" Johnson suggested.

Flynn shook his head. His jowls wobbled. "Can't be that."

"Why not?" Stone asked. "It makes sense to me."

"As if that proved anything," Flynn said with dignity. He pointed to the planet they were circling. "How can I be native talent in this solar system?"

"He's got a point," Johnson said.

Stone shrugged this time. "Well, what if he does?" Without waiting for an answer, he pushed off, slid gracefully past Flynn, and vanished down that corridor.

"Was it something I said?" Flynn wondered.

"Nope. He just doesn't care to be last year's model, but he can't do anything about it," Johnson answered.

"Anybody who can remember when rockets to the Moon were the province of pulp magazines is not going to be right up to date," Flynn observed. "For that matter, neither is anybody who can remember pulp magazines."

"That's true," Johnson said. "I was never on the Moon. Were you? And here we are in orbit around Home. It's pretty peculiar, when you think about it."

"The Moon's not worth going to. This place is," Flynn said.

He wasn't wrong about that, either. The Lizards had been amused when humans flew to the Moon. Since the Race was used to flying between the stars, that first human journey to another world must have seemed like the smallest of baby steps. And when people went to Mars, the Lizards were just plain perplexed. Why bother? The place obviously wasn't worth anything.

"Heck," Johnson said, "they didn't even get all that hot and bothered when we went out to the asteroid belt in the Lewis and Clark. Lewis and Clark."

"At least they were curious then," Flynn said. "We had a constant-boost ship. That made them sit up and take notice. And they wondered what the d.i.c.kens we were up to. Those spy machines of theirs . . ."

Johnson laughed. "Oh, yeah. I remember spoofing one of them when I was in a scooter. I signaled to it just the same way as I had to some of the bases we'd set up on the rocks close by the ship."

"That should have given some Lizard monitoring the signals the spy machine was picking up a case of the hives," Flynn said.

"Well, I hope so. I don't suppose I'll ever know for sure, though," Johnson said. "What I do know for sure is, it gave our dearly beloved commandant a case of the hives. He called me into his lair, uh, office to grill me on the weird signal I'd sent. Somehow, he never appreciated my sense of humor."

"He probably thought it lacked that quality of mirth known as being funny," Flynn said.

"Thanks a h.e.l.l of a lot, Mickey. I'll remember you in my nightmares." Johnson wished he could have left the control room in a display of at least medium dudgeon, the way Walter Stone had. But it was still his shift. He did everything required of him. He always had. He always would, for as long as he was physically able to. He was d.a.m.ned and double-d.a.m.ned if he would give Lieutenant General Healey the excuse to come down on him for something small like that.

He laughed out loud. "Are you attempting to contradict me?" Flynn inquired in moderately aggrieved tones. "How can I know whether something is funny unless you tell me the joke?"

Johnson explained, finishing, "Of course Healey doesn't come down on me for the small stuff. He comes down on me for big stuff instead."

After grave consideration, Flynn shook his head. "I don't think you'd make Bob Hope quake in his boots, or Jack Benny, either."

"I should say not," Johnson replied. "They're dead."

"I don't even think you'd get them worried enough to start spinning in their graves," Flynn said imperturbably. "Neither would that Lizard called Donald, the one who runs the quiz show."

"How's he going to spin in his grave? He's still alive," Johnson said. "And so is that gal called Rita-oh, yeah." Recordings of You'd Better Believe It You'd Better Believe It had made it to the had made it to the Admiral Peary. Admiral Peary. Some people found Donald funny. Johnson didn't, or not especially. But, like every other male on the ship, he . . . admired the lovely Rita's fashion statements. "One more reason to be sorry I'm not going back to Earth." Some people found Donald funny. Johnson didn't, or not especially. But, like every other male on the ship, he . . . admired the lovely Rita's fashion statements. "One more reason to be sorry I'm not going back to Earth."

"Two more reasons, I'd say." Mickey Flynn paused to let that sink in, then went on, "However much you might like looking at her, you don't suppose she'd look at you, do you? You were not born yesterday, mon vieux. mon vieux."

Except for the minor detail that gravity would quickly kill him, Johnson was in reasonably good shape for his age, which was about the same as Flynn's. But the other pilot wasn't wrong; neither one of them had been born yesterday, even subtracting cold sleep. After some thought, Johnson said, "I've been accruing pay since the 1960s, and I haven't had a G.o.dd.a.m.n thing to spend it on. I may not be pretty, but I might do for a sugar daddy."

"Maybe you would-if they still have sugar daddies back on Earth," Flynn said.

"They will. That, I'm not worried about." Johnson spoke with great conviction. "As long as old guys have more money than they know what to do with, pretty girls'll give 'em ideas."

"Hmm. On those grounds, I might even qualify for sugar daddyhood myself," Flynn said. "I've been accruing pay longer than you have, since I joined the crew of the Lewis and Clark Lewis and Clark on the up and up instead of stowing away, and I've been a bird colonel longer than you have. I could outbid you." He seemed to like the idea. on the up and up instead of stowing away, and I've been a bird colonel longer than you have. I could outbid you." He seemed to like the idea.

Johnson laughed at him. "If we're back on Earth-or in orbit around it, anyway-there'll be enough girls to go around. You get one, I'll get another one. h.e.l.l, get more than one if you want to."

"An embarra.s.sment of riches. And, probably, a richness of embarra.s.sments," Flynn said. "But then, a richness of embarra.s.sments is what sugar daddies are for. I should endeavor to give satisfaction."

How did he mean that? Johnson refused to give him the satisfaction of asking. Instead, he said, "It's pretty good weightless, from what I remember. Of course, it's pretty d.a.m.n good any which way."

"There, for once, I find I cannot disagree with you." Flynn looked aggrieved. "What an unfortunate development. Who could have imagined it?"

Johnson patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. It won't last." Flynn seemed suitably relieved.

When Johnson's shift ended, he went down to the refectory. A couple of doctors were in there, talking while they ate about how they could reacquaint themselves with the state of the art once they got back to Earth. They'd been weightless only since reviving aboard the Admiral Peary. Admiral Peary. Johnson was jealous of them; he couldn't go all the way home again. Johnson was jealous of them; he couldn't go all the way home again.

He got himself a chopped-meat sandwich and a squeeze bottle full of rhubarb juice. The juice wasn't bad-was d.a.m.n good, in fact. He wouldn't have been surprised if somebody on the starship were fermenting it. The meat was full of pepper and c.u.min and other spices. That helped keep people from thinking about what it was: rat or guinea pig. The Admiral Peary Admiral Peary hadn't brought along any regular domestic animals, and the frozen beef and pork and lamb was long gone. The rodents could live-could thrive-on the vegetable waste from the hydroponic farm. Better just to contemplate them as . . . meat. hadn't brought along any regular domestic animals, and the frozen beef and pork and lamb was long gone. The rodents could live-could thrive-on the vegetable waste from the hydroponic farm. Better just to contemplate them as . . . meat.

In came Lieutenant General Healey. That did more to spoil Johnson's appet.i.te than remembering that he was eating a rat sandwich. How many steaks could you carve off of Healey? Or would he prove inedibly tough? That was Johnson's guess.

The commandant hadn't missed any meals. His face was full. His body was round. If what he ate ever bothered him, he didn't let it show. Johnson eyed him again, in a different way this time. Healey was bound to have even more pay saved up than Mickey Flynn did. But with that scowl on the commandant's face, all the money in the world wouldn't turn him into a sugar daddy.

Johnson quickly looked away when Healey's radar gaze swung toward him. Not quickly enough, though-the commandant got his food and then glided toward a handhold near the one Johnson was using. "Well?" Healey asked. "Why are you staring at me? Is my fly unzipped?"

"No, sir," Johnson said tonelessly. The trousers they wore didn't have flies.

"Well, then? I'm not Lana Turner, either." Healey hopelessly dated himself with that crack. Johnson, also hopelessly dated, got it with no trouble. Did anyone on the Commodore Perry Commodore Perry even know who Lana Turner was? They leered at the lovely Rita these days-not that she wasn't worth leering at herself. even know who Lana Turner was? They leered at the lovely Rita these days-not that she wasn't worth leering at herself.

"No, sir," Johnson said again. Leering at Healey for any reason was a really scary thought.

"Then keep your eyes to yourself," the commandant snapped. "The only other reason you'd stare at me that way is to figure out where to stick the knife." He took a big bite of his sandwich.

But Johnson shook his head. "Oh, no, sir."

"Ha!" Healey jeered. "A likely story."

"It's true, sir," Johnson insisted. "I don't need to figure it out. I've known for a long time." They eyed each other in perfect mutual loathing.

No matter what Ka.s.squit had told Ttomalss about her emotional state, she clung to Frank Coffey now. "I hope you come back!" she said, and used an emphatic cough.

"So do I," he answered, and used one of his own. "I will do everything I can. I want to see you again, and I want to see our hatchling. And if I have trouble coming back for any reason, perhaps you and the hatchling can come to Tosev 3. You and that little male or female are bridges between the Empire and Tosevites."

"Truth," Ka.s.squit said. Tears ran down her cheeks. "I wish you were not going!"

"We both knew I would, sooner or later," Coffey said. "The coming of the Commodore Perry Commodore Perry has made it sooner, that is all." He shook his head. "I did not think I would be leaving as a sire, though. I will say that. It makes things more difficult. . . . Do something for me?" has made it sooner, that is all." He shook his head. "I did not think I would be leaving as a sire, though. I will say that. It makes things more difficult. . . . Do something for me?"

"If I can," she said. "What is it?"

"Try not to hate me after I am gone."

"I would not do that!" she said.

"I hope not," he said. "Sometimes, though, after these things end, it happens. It is a way of telling yourself, He is gone, so he could not have been any good while he was here. He is gone, so he could not have been any good while he was here."

Remembering how she'd felt after Jonathan Yeager returned to the surface of Tosev 3, and especially after he formed his permanent mating alliance with Karen, Ka.s.squit made the affirmative gesture. She saw how doing as Frank Coffey said might make her feel better. In a small voice, she told him, "I will try not to."

"Good," Coffey said. "And one other thing. When the hatchling comes, try to let it get to know both members of the Race and wild Tosevites. There will be a good many males and females from the Commodore Perry Commodore Perry here. Their physician no doubt did not expect to take care of a hatchling, but I think he will do a good job. He probably knows more than Dr. Blanchard does, just because the state of the art has moved forward since she went into cold sleep." here. Their physician no doubt did not expect to take care of a hatchling, but I think he will do a good job. He probably knows more than Dr. Blanchard does, just because the state of the art has moved forward since she went into cold sleep."

He said such things as if they were as natural as sunrise or as stars coming out at night. (Even as Ka.s.squit had that thought, she made the negative gesture. She'd grown up in s.p.a.ce. There, the stars were always out. She'd had to get used to their being gone during the day.) To the wild Big Uglies, change and technical advances were natural. Were that untrue, they never would have built the Commodore Perry. Commodore Perry. For a whole swarm of reasons, Ka.s.squit wished they hadn't. For a whole swarm of reasons, Ka.s.squit wished they hadn't.

"I will do that," she said. "The hatchling will be a citizen of the Empire, but it will know more of its biological heritage than I ever did. And I will do my best to make sure that it does not become an experimental animal, the way I did." She added an emphatic cough to her words.

"Good." Frank Coffey caressed her and kissed her. "Believe me, I like your biological heritage." He had a way of showing enthusiasm without an emphatic cough. They lay down together. The last time, The last time, Ka.s.squit thought. She did her best to make the most of it. Ka.s.squit thought. She did her best to make the most of it.

The next morning, the American Tosevites from the Admiral Peary Admiral Peary got into the bus that would take them to the shuttlecraft port. Atvar got on the bus, too; he was going to Tosev 3 as final proof that the got into the bus that would take them to the shuttlecraft port. Atvar got on the bus, too; he was going to Tosev 3 as final proof that the Commodore Perry Commodore Perry was what the wild big Uglies claimed it was. No one on Home really doubted it any more. The Tosevites on the new starship already knew about things speed-of-light transmission from Tosev 3 was just now revealing here. But the Race wanted to see for itself, and the Big Uglies had agreed. was what the wild big Uglies claimed it was. No one on Home really doubted it any more. The Tosevites on the new starship already knew about things speed-of-light transmission from Tosev 3 was just now revealing here. But the Race wanted to see for itself, and the Big Uglies had agreed.

Shiplord Straha and Shuttlecraft Pilot Nesseref also boarded the bus. They would not be going back to Tosev 3. They were colonists no more. The American Tosevites could not be sure they would not deliver a message ordering Kirel and Reffet to start a last desperate war.

And Ka.s.squit got on, too. Up till the last moment, she had not been sure whether she would. But she did. She would stretch things out to the very end. If that made the hurt that would follow worse, then it did, that was all.

Much of the talk aboard the bus was in English. Even Straha spoke the language well. I should have learned it, I should have learned it, Ka.s.squit thought once more. Ka.s.squit thought once more. My hatchling will learn it. A Tosevite should know a Tosevite language. My hatchling will learn it. A Tosevite should know a Tosevite language.

After a little while, Frank Coffey told her, "I am sorry. This must be boring for you."

"I wish it were boring," Ka.s.squit said. "I do not understand what you are saying, but that is not the same thing. I do not know how long it will be before I see you again. I do not know if I will ever see you again. It is hard, but it is not boring."

"I am sorry," he repeated. "This is a chance to go home again."

"I understand," Ka.s.squit said. "I do understand. But it is not easy for me whether I understand or not."

Atvar and Straha got into a shouting match, which distracted everyone else. They seemed to be trying to decide which of them was the bigger idiot. By the way they were behaving, it was a contest they both wanted to lose. Atvar had made it very plain he did not like Straha. Straha seemed to be doing his best to show it was mutual.

"Enough!" Nesseref exclaimed after a while. "You will scandalize the Big Uglies!"

"Truth," Atvar said with such dignity as he could muster. "It is is enough, Straha." enough, Straha."

Straha only laughed at that-a huge, rude, tongue-wagging laugh. "You say that because you know you are in the wrong. There is no other reason. If you thought you were right, you would tell me so."

"I do think I am right, and in a moment I will put my toeclaws up your cloaca to prove it," Atvar retorted.

"I am not afraid of you," Straha said.

"Enough!" That wasn't Nesseref-it was Sam Yeager. "Both of you are my friends, and both of you are acting like hatchlings."

The two prominent males hadn't really listened to the shuttlecraft pilot, any more than they'd listened to each other. They did heed the departing American amba.s.sador. Straha said, "Perhaps this is not the ideal time or place."

"Perhaps it is not," Atvar agreed. "After I return . . ."

"After you return, I will be at your service," Straha said. "When you get to Tosev 3, you will also see the other ways the wild Big Uglies have got ahead of us. If we had only done as I wanted-"

"Enough!" This time, all the American Tosevites shouted it together. A volley of emphatic coughs rang out.

When they got to the shuttlecraft port, the row threatened to break out anew. The American Tosevites got between the two angry males of the Race. Jonathan Yeager spoke to Atvar. "I am bigger than you are, Exalted Fleetlord, and my sire is bigger than the shiplord. Between the two of us, I hope we can keep the two of you from disgracing yourselves and the Race."

"I think you have just called us barbarians," Atvar said mournfully.

"What have you been acting like?" Jonathan Yeager asked.

After that, Atvar and Straha really did subside. Embarra.s.sment was a weapon more potent than many. Females and males in the body paint of Security examined everything that would be going up on the shuttlecraft. "We cannot be too careful," they said, over and over.

A dark-scaled Rabotev pilot awaited them, eyestalks turning this way and that. Nesseref went up to him-or perhaps her-and started talking shop. Ka.s.squit turned to Frank Coffey. "Do you see? They still worry that a member of the Race might smuggle ginger."

He found it less funny than she did. "If lots of our ships are going to come from Tosev 3 to Home, they are going to have to worry about it. Either that, or they will have to start to accept ginger, the way the Race has on Tosev 3."

"More changes," Ka.s.squit said sadly.

"More changes," Coffey agreed.

A male whose body paint proclaimed him a security chief bawled, "Final check! All boarding the shuttlecraft, form a line here here!" He pointed, reveling in his petty power. Along with Atvar, all the Tosevites except Ka.s.squit formed a line there. there. The security male's eye turrets swung toward her. "What about you?" The security male's eye turrets swung toward her. "What about you?"

"I am not going. I am a citizen of the Empire," she answered. The male started to challenge her, but Atvar spoke quietly to him. He hissed in irritation. Then he shrugged, one of the few gestures the Race and Tosevites shared.

Frank Coffey stepped out of line. The security male hissed again. Coffey ignored him. He came up to Ka.s.squit for one last embrace. "Take care of yourself," he said. "I will be back if I possibly can."

"I know. I believe you," Ka.s.squit said. In a way, she was lucky. She had no idea how many Tosevite males had made that same promise to gravid Tosevite females without the slightest intention of keeping it. Some, of course, did, but not all. She added, "I hope everything goes well for you."

"So do I," he said, and smiled what even she recognized as a tight little smile. Here he was-here all the American Big Uglies were-trusting to a technology that was anything but proved. The Race was more sensible, and would never have allowed anything so risky. That was one reason the Big Uglies now had faster-than-light travel, while the Race had never even looked for it very hard. The rest of the Americans and Atvar started out of the terminal building and toward the shuttlecraft. Frank Coffey let Ka.s.squit go. "I have to leave."

"I know," she said again. I will not cry in front of him. I will not cry in front of him. That was her last determination. She managed to hold on to it as he let the security male wave a metal-detecting wand around him one more time. Then he hurried after the rest of the wild Big Uglies. The door to the field closed, and Ka.s.squit dissolved in tears. The males and females of the Race in the terminal stared at her. They had no idea what to make of the display, or what to do about it. That was her last determination. She managed to hold on to it as he let the security male wave a metal-detecting wand around him one more time. Then he hurried after the rest of the wild Big Uglies. The door to the field closed, and Ka.s.squit dissolved in tears. The males and females of the Race in the terminal stared at her. They had no idea what to make of the display, or what to do about it.