Homeward Bound Part 6

"It's a test," his father added. "If you're coordinated enough to get off the table, you're coordinated enough to move around."

It proved harder than Jonathan thought it would. What was that line from the Bible? If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning-that was it. Both his right hand and his left seemed to have forgotten their cunning. h.e.l.l, they seemed to have forgotten what they were for.

Finally, he did manage to escape. "Whew!" he said. He hadn't imagined a few buckles and straps could be so tough. The woman in white gave him shorts and a T-shirt to match what his father had on. He hadn't noticed he was naked till then.

"Come on," Sam Yeager said. "Control room is up through that hatchway." He pushed off toward the hatchway with the accuracy of someone who'd been in s.p.a.ce before. Come to that, Jonathan had, too. His own push wasn't so good, but he could blame that on muscles that still didn't want to do what they were supposed to. He not only could, he did.

Jonathan pulled himself up the handholds and into the control room. Along with his father, two officers were already in there. The leaner one eyed Jonathan, turned to the rounder one, and said, "Looks like his old man, doesn't he?"

"Poor devil," the rounder man . . . agreed?

"These refugees from a bad comedy show are Glen Johnson and Mickey Flynn," Sam Yeager said, pointing to show who was who. "They're the glorified bus drivers who got us here."

"Two of the glorified bus drivers," Flynn corrected. "Our most glorified driver is presently asleep. He does that every once in a while, whether he needs to or not."

"Stone'd be happier if he didn't," Johnson said. "He'd be happier if n.o.body did."

He and Flynn did sound like a team. Jonathan Yeager would have been more inclined to sa.s.s them about it if he hadn't started staring at Home. He'd seen it in videos from the Race, of course, but the difference between a video on a screen and a real world out there seeming close enough to touch was about the same as the difference between a picture of a kiss and the kiss itself.

"Wow," Jonathan said softly.

"You took the words out of my mouth, son," his father said.

"We're really here," Jonathan whispered. Hearing about it in the room where he'd revived was one thing. Seeing a living planet that wasn't Earth, seeing it in person and up close . . . "Wow," he said again.

"Yes, we're really here," Flynn said. "And so the Lizards have laid out the red carpet for us, because they're so thrilled to see us at their front door."

"Excuse me," Johnson said, and looked down at his wrist, as if at a watch. "I think my irony detector just went off."

"Can't imagine why." Flynn c.o.c.ked a hand behind one ear. "Don't you hear the bra.s.s band? I'm just glad the Race never thought of cheerleaders."

How long had the two of them been sniping at each other? They might almost have been married. A light went on in Jonathan's head. "You two are off the Lewis and Clark, Lewis and Clark, aren't you?" aren't you?"

"Who, us?" Flynn said. "I resemble that remark."

Johnson said, "It's the stench of Healey, that's what it is. It clings to us wherever we go."

"Healey?" Jonathan wondered how hard his leg was being pulled.

"Our commandant," Mickey Flynn replied. "Renowned throughout the Solar System-and now here, too-for the sweetness of his song and the beauty of his plumage."

"Plumage, my a.s.s," Johnson muttered. "We thought we'd gone light-years to get away from him-worth it, too. But turns out he came along in cold sleep, so now he's running this ship, dammit."

"Healey's a martinet-one of those people who give military discipline a bad name. There are more of them than there ought to be, I'm afraid," Sam Yeager said.

Johnson looked as if he wanted to say even more than he had, but held back. That struck Jonathan as sensible. If this Healey was as nasty as all that, he made little lists and checked them a lot more than twice. "I wonder who's president these days," he remarked.

"As of last radio signal, it was a woman named Joyce Peterman," Johnson replied, with a shrug that meant the news surprised him, too. "Of course, last radio signal left more than two terms ago, so it's somebody else by now-or if it's not, things have really gone to h.e.l.l back there."

"As long as the radio signals keep coming, I'm happy," Jonathan's father said. "They could elect Mortimer Snerd, and I wouldn't care."

Jonathan, who'd grown up as television ousted radio, barely knew who Mortimer Snerd was. He understood what his father was talking about just the same. Radio signals from Earth to Tau Ceti meant the Lizards and the Americans-or the Russians, or the j.a.panese, or (since the last n.a.z.i-Lizard war was almost seventy years past by now) even the Germans-hadn't thrown enough missiles at one another to blast the home planet back to the Stone Age.

My kids are as old as I am now, Jonathan thought, and then he shook his head. That was wrong. If it was 2031, his kids were older than he was. In any sane universe, that should have been impossible. But then, n.o.body had ever shown this was a sane universe. Jonathan thought, and then he shook his head. That was wrong. If it was 2031, his kids were older than he was. In any sane universe, that should have been impossible. But then, n.o.body had ever shown this was a sane universe.

He looked up-or was it down?-at Home. The universe might not be sane, but it was beautiful.

"Radio signals are useful things," Flynn said. "We let the Lizards know we were coming, so they could bake us a cake. And we let them know that if the signals from the Admiral Peary Admiral Peary stopped coming while she was in the Tau Ceti system, we'd bake them a planet." He paused for a precisely timed beat, and then finished, "I love subtle hints." stopped coming while she was in the Tau Ceti system, we'd bake them a planet." He paused for a precisely timed beat, and then finished, "I love subtle hints."

"Subtle. Right." But Jonathan knew the Lizards would be pitching a fit down there. This had been their imperial center for tens of thousands of years, the place from which they'd set out on their conquests. Now they had uninvited guests. No wonder they were jumpy.

"We've got one ship here," Glen Johnson said. "One ship, against everything the Race has in s.p.a.ce. They came at us with their G.o.dd.a.m.n conquest fleet when we were flying prop jobs. I don't waste a lot of grief on them."

"They didn't even expect us to have those," Jonathan's father said. "They were looking for knights in shining armor. h.e.l.l, if you've ever seen that photo their probe took, they were looking for knights in rusty armor. If they'd found them, they might not have lost a male."

The Race always took a long time to get ready before doing anything. That had saved mankind once. Jonathan dared hope it would work for the Admiral Peary, Admiral Peary, too. But the Lizards back home had seen they couldn't sit around and dawdle when dealing with Big Uglies. Did the ones here also realize that? too. But the Lizards back home had seen they couldn't sit around and dawdle when dealing with Big Uglies. Did the ones here also realize that? We'll find out, We'll find out, he thought. he thought.

Something else occurred to him. As casually as he could, he asked his father, "Have we heard from Ka.s.squit? Did she make it through cold sleep all right?"

"Well, yes, as a matter of fact," Sam Yeager answered with a rather sheepish grin. "Difference is, you know she went into cold sleep. I didn't, because she went in after me. I got a jolt when I heard what had to be a human speaking the Lizards' language and asking for Regeya."

Jonathan laughed. The two American pilots looked blank. "Regeya?" Flynn said plaintively, while Johnson asked, "Just who is this Ka.s.squit person, anyway? A traitor? You never did exactly explain that, Sam."

"Regeya's the name I used on the Lizards' electronic network back home," Jonathan's father said. "And no, Ka.s.squit's not a traitor, not the way you mean. She's got a right to be loyal to the other side. She was raised by the Lizards ever since she was a tiny baby."

"You've met her?" Glen Johnson asked. Jonathan and his father both nodded.

"Raised by Lizards, was she?" Flynn said. The Yeagers nodded again. The pilot asked, "And how crazy is she?"

Sam Yeager looked to Jonathan, who knew her better. "Some," Jonathan said. "Maybe more than some. But less than you'd expect. She's very smart. I think that helped." We did the same thing to Mickey and Donald, too, We did the same thing to Mickey and Donald, too, he thought. he thought. They at least had each other. Ka.s.squit didn't have anybody. They at least had each other. Ka.s.squit didn't have anybody.

His father was still looking at him. He knew all the reasons Jonathan had asked about Ka.s.squit. Oh, yes. He knew. And so would Karen.

Consciousness came back to Karen Yeager very slowly. She couldn't tell when dreams stopped and mundane reality returned. She'd been dreaming about Jonathan and his father. Next thing she knew, she saw them. She would have accepted that as part of the dream, for they were both floating in s.p.a.ce in front of her, and dreams were the only place where you could fly. But then she realized they weren't flying, or not exactly, and that she was weightless, too.

"We made it," she whispered. Her tongue felt like a bolt of flannel. It didn't want to shape the words.

"We sure did, honey." Jonathan had no trouble talking. For a moment, Karen resented that. Then, on hands and knees, a thought crawled through her head. Oh. He's been awake for a while. Oh. He's been awake for a while.

"How are you, Mrs. Yeager?" That brisk female voice hadn't been part of her dream. The woman in a white smock also floated above her head.

Answer. I have to answer. "Sleepy," Karen managed. "Sleepy," Karen managed.

"Well, I'm not surprised. All your vital signs are good, though," the woman said. "Once the drugs wear off and you get used to being normal body temperature again, you'll do fine. I'm Dr. Blanchard, by the way."

"That's nice," Karen said vaguely. She turned toward Sam Yeager. "h.e.l.lo. It's been a while." She laughed. She felt more than a little drunk, and more than a little confused, too. "How long has has it been, anyway?" it been, anyway?"

"Everybody asks that once the fog starts to clear," Dr. Blanchard said. "It's 2031." She gave Karen a moment to digest that. It was going to take more than a moment. I'm almost ninety years old, I'm almost ninety years old, Karen thought. But she didn't feel any different from the way she had when she went into cold sleep. She looked at her father-in-law again. Karen thought. But she didn't feel any different from the way she had when she went into cold sleep. She looked at her father-in-law again. How old is Sam? How old is Sam? She had trouble with the subtraction. She had trouble with the subtraction.

The woman in the smock gave her chicken soup. Swallowing proved at least as hard as talking, but she managed. She felt better with the warm broth inside. It seemed to help anchor her to the here and now.

"Can I get up?" she asked.

Jonathan and his father both started to laugh. "We both had to figure out how, and now you do, too," Jonathan said. After some fumbling-her hands still didn't feel as if they belonged to her-Karen managed to undo the fasteners that held her to the revival bed. Only a towel covered her. Dr. Blanchard chased the male Yeagers out of the revival room and gave her shorts and a shirt like the ones they had on. Then they were suffered to return. She pushed off toward them.

When she came up to Jonathan, he gave her a quick kiss. Then he let her go. He'd known her a long time. Had he tried for anything more than a quick kiss just then, she would have done her feeble best to disembowel him.

She saw her father-in-law watching her in a peculiar way. Sam Yeager had always noticed her as a woman. He'd never once been obnoxious about it, but he had. Now, for no reason at all, she found herself blushing. Then she shook her head, realizing it wasn't for no reason at all. "I've just aged seventeen years right before your eyes, haven't I?" she said.

"Not a bit," he said. "You've aged maybe five of them."

Karen laughed. "Did they bring the Blarney Stone along so you could kiss it while I was asleep?" She was a child-a great-grandchild, actually-of the Old Sod, even if her maiden name, Culpepper, was English.

Then Jonathan said, "Dad's right, hon."

She tried to poke her husband in the ribs. "You of all people really ought to know better. It's very sweet and everything, but you ought to."

"Nope." He could be stubborn-now, maybe, endearingly stubborn. "Here on the Admiral Peary, Admiral Peary, he really is right. We're weightless. Nothing sags the way it would under gravity." He patted his own stomach by way of ill.u.s.tration. he really is right. We're weightless. Nothing sags the way it would under gravity." He patted his own stomach by way of ill.u.s.tration.

"Hmm." Karen thought that over. She didn't have a mirror-which, right after cold sleep, was bound to be a mercy-but she could look at Jonathan and Sam. "Maybe." That was as much as she was going to admit.

Jonathan pointed to the pa.s.sageway where he and his father had gone while she dressed. "Home's out there waiting, if you want to have a look."

Sam Yeager added, "It's out there waiting even if you don't want to have a look."

Jonathan grunted. "You've been listening to that Mickey Flynn too much, Dad."

"Who's Mickey Flynn?" Karen asked.

"One of the pilots," her husband answered darkly.

"He's a bad influence," her father-in-law added. "He's a professional bad influence, you might say. He's proud of it. He has a dry wit."

"Any drier and it'd make Home look like the Amazon jungle," Jonathan said.

"Okay," Karen said. "Now I'm intrigued. Would I rather meet him or the Lizards' planet?" She pushed off toward the pa.s.sageway.

But Mickey Flynn wasn't in the control room. The pilot who was, a sober-looking fellow named Walter Stone, said, "Pleased to meet you, ma'am," when Jonathan introduced her to him, then went back to studying his radar screen. Karen saw how many blips were on it. That still left her slightly miffed. Stone seemed to care more for machines than he did for people.

Then Karen stopped worrying about the pilot, because the sight of Home made her forget him and everything else. She knew the map of Tau Ceti 2 as well as she knew the map of Earth. Knowing and seeing were two different things. Someone softly said, "Ohh." After a moment, she realized that was her own voice.

"That's what I said, too, hon," Jonathan said.

Stone looked over his shoulder. "We'll deal with whatever they throw at us," he said. "And if they start throwing things at us, we'll make 'em sorry they tried."

Karen believed the last part. The Admiral Peary Admiral Peary was armed. A ship that went to strange places had to be. If the Lizards attacked it, it could hurt them. Deal with whatever they threw at it? Maybe Brigadier General Stone was an optimist. Maybe he thought he was rea.s.suring her. was armed. A ship that went to strange places had to be. If the Lizards attacked it, it could hurt them. Deal with whatever they threw at it? Maybe Brigadier General Stone was an optimist. Maybe he thought he was rea.s.suring her.

She didn't feel rea.s.sured. That was what she got for knowing too much. She stared down at the golds and greens and blues-more golds, fewer greens and blues than Earth-spread out below her. "They're the only ones who've ever flown into or out of this system till now," she said. "We hadn't even started farming when they conquered the Rabotevs."

"And they were in s.p.a.ce inside this system for G.o.d only knows how many thousand years before that," Sam Yeager said. "They've got reasons to be antsy about strangers."

"We've got reasons for coming here," Karen said. "They gave us most of them."

"Don't I know it!" her father-in-law said. "I was on a train from Madison down to Decatur when they came to Earth. They shot it up. Only dumb luck they didn't blow my head off."

"I'm glad they didn't," Jonathan said. "If they had, I wouldn't be here. And I sure wouldn't be here. here." He pointed out toward Home.

Would I be here here? Karen wondered. The Race had fascinated her ever since she was little. Even if she'd never met Jonathan, she probably would have done something involving them. Would it have been enough to get her aboard the Karen wondered. The Race had fascinated her ever since she was little. Even if she'd never met Jonathan, she probably would have done something involving them. Would it have been enough to get her aboard the Admiral Peary Admiral Peary? How could she know? She couldn't.

An enormous yawn tried to split her face in two. "That happened to me after I'd been awake for a little while," Jonathan said. "They've given us a cabin for two, if you want to sleep for a bit."

"That sounds wonderful," Karen said.

"It's right next to mine," her father-in-law added. "If you leave the TV on too loud, I'll bang my shoe against the wall."

Brigadier General Stone looked pained. "It's not a wall. It's a bulkhead." He and Sam Yeager wrangled about it, not quite seriously, as Jonathan led Karen out of the control room and back to the fluorescent-lit painted metal that was the starship's interior.

The cabin didn't seem big enough for one person, let alone two. When Karen saw the sleeping arrangements, she started to giggle. "Bunk beds!"

"Don't let Stone hear you say that," Jonathan warned. "He'll probably tell you they're supposed to be bulkbunks, or something."

"I don't care." Karen was still giggling. "When I was a little kid, my best friend had a sister who was only a year younger than she was, and they had bunk beds. I was so jealous. You can't believe how jealous I was."

"They've got the same sort of straps on them that the revival bed did," Jonathan said. "We won't go floating all over the cabin."

"I wish they'd spin the ship and give us some gravity," Karen said. "But it would kill the guys from the Lewis and Clark, Lewis and Clark, wouldn't it?" wouldn't it?"

"Like that." Her husband snapped his fingers. "It would screw up fire control, too. We're stuck with being weightless till the Lizards let us go down to Home."

Karen grimaced at the thought of fire control: a euphemism for this is how we shoot things up. this is how we shoot things up. The grimace turned into yet another yawn. "Dibs on the top bunk," she said, and got into it. As she fastened herself in, a question bubbled up to the top of her mind: "Have we . . . lost anybody?" The grimace turned into yet another yawn. "Dibs on the top bunk," she said, and got into it. As she fastened herself in, a question bubbled up to the top of her mind: "Have we . . . lost anybody?"

"A couple of people," Jonathan answered. "It was a little riskier than they said it would be. I suppose that figures. I'm d.a.m.n glad you're here, sweetie. And I'm glad Dad is. They really didn't know what they were doing when they put him under."

"I'm glad you're here, too," Karen said. The chill that ran through her had nothing to do with cold sleep. How sorry would certain people back on Earth have been if Sam Yeager hadn't revived? Not very, she suspected. She also suspected she was falling asleep no matter what she could do about it. Moments later, that suspicion was confirmed.

When she woke up, she felt better. She realized how groggy she'd been before. The buckles on the bunk were just like the ones on the revival bed. Those had almost baffled her. She opened these without even thinking about it. When she pushed out of the bunk toward a handhold on the far-not very far-wall, she saw Jonathan reading in the bottom bunk. He looked up from the papers and said, "Hi, there."

"Hi, there yourself," Karen said. "How long was I out?"

"Just a couple of hours." He waved papers at her. "This is stuff you'll need to see-reports on what's been going on back on Earth since we went under. We've got to be as up-to-date as the Lizards are, anyhow."

"I'll look at it." Karen laughed. "It still feels like too much work."

"Okay. I know what you mean," Jonathan said. "I'm a day and a little bit ahead of you, and I'm still not a hundred percent, either-not even close. Still, one of these days before we go down to Home, it might be fun to try it weightless. What do you think?"

If Jonathan was chipper enough to contemplate s.e.x, he was further ahead of Karen than he knew. What she said was, "Not tonight, Josephine." What she thought was, Maybe not for the next six months, or at least not till all the drugs wear off. Maybe not for the next six months, or at least not till all the drugs wear off.