N-Space Part 51

The tall dark woman in the corridor caught his attention. He would have remembered her. She was eight inches taller than Terry, in a dressing gown too short for her and a puffy shower cap. She was more striking than beautiful: square-jawed and lean enough to show ribs and hip bones where the cloth pulled taut.

She caught him looking and smiled with one side of her face. "He'o! I member you!" Her lip tugged way up on the left.

"Oh, it's you," Terry said. Six days ago: the head wound case. "Hey, you can talk! That's good. I'm Terry Kak.u.mee."

"Benda Curris."

It was an odd name. "Benda?"

"Br, renda. Cur, tiss."

"Brenda. Sorry. What were you doing out there in the swamps?" He instantly added, "Does it tire you to talk?"

She spoke slowly and carefully. "Yes. I told my story to the Marines and Navy officers and Doctor Hartner. I don't like it. You wo-wouldn't like it. They smiled a lot when we all knew I wasn't pregnant." She didn't seem to see Terry's bewilderment. "You're Charley 's friend. He's out of the re-gener-ation sleeve."

"Can he have visitors?"

"Ssure. I'll take you."

Charley wasn't a pillow any more. He didn't look good, either. Wasted. Burned. He didn't move much on the water bed. His lips weren't quite mobile enough; he sounded a bit like Brenda. "There are four regeneration sleeves on Tanith, and one tank to make the goo, and when they wear out there's nothing. My sleeve is on a Marine from Tabletop. Burn patient, like me. I asked. I see you've met Brenda?"

"Yeah."

"She went through a h.e.l.l of an experience. We don't talk about it. So how's the work coming?"

"I'll go to the purser tomorrow. I want all my ducks in a row, but I don't want everyone getting their requests in ahead of me either. I made a list of things we could give up to other ships. That might help."

"Good idea. Very Eskimo."

"Charley, it isn't really. The old traditions have us giving a stranger what he needs whether we need it or not."

He noticed Brenda staring at him. She said, "How strange."

He laughed a little uncomfortably. "I suppose a stranger wouldn't ask for what the village had to have. Anyway, those days are almost gone."

Brenda listened while they talked about the ship. She wouldn't understand much of it, though both men tried to explain from time to time. "The Langston Field is your reentry shield and your weapons shield and your true hull. We'll never get it repaired, but Firebee Firebee could still function in the outer system. I'm trying to get the shuttles rebuilt. Maybe we can make her a trader. She sure isn't part of a Navy anymore." could still function in the outer system. I'm trying to get the shuttles rebuilt. Maybe we can make her a trader. She sure isn't part of a Navy anymore."

Charley said, "The Tanith asteroids aren't mined out."

"So?"

"Asteroids. Metal. Build a metal sh.e.l.l around Firebee Firebee for a hull." for a hull."

"Charley, you'd double her ma.s.s!"

"We could still run her around the inner system. If we could get a tank from some wrecked ship, a detachable fuel tank, we'd be interstellar again." His eyes flicked to Brenda and he said, "With more fuel we could still get to the Jump points and back. Everything'd be slower, we couldn't outrun anything. . . . . have to stay away from bandits. have to stay away from bandits. . .

"You're onto something. Charley, we don't really want to be asteroid miners for five years. But if we could find two two good tanks-" good tanks-"

"Ahhh! One for a hull. Big. Off a battleship, say."

"Yeah."

"Terry, I'm tired," Charley said suddenly, plaintively. "Take Brenda to dinner? They let her out."

"Brenda? I'd be honored."

She smiled one-sided.

November was twelve days long on Tanith, and there wasn't any December. Every so often they put the same number on two consecutive years, to stay even with Spartan time.

In November Dagon City was dark eighteen hours out of twenty-one-plus. The street lighting was back, but s.n.a.t.c.hers were still a problem. Maybe Terry's uniform protected him; and he went armed, of course.

He took her to a place that was still pa.s.sable despite the shortages.

He did most of the talking. She'd never heard of the Nuliajuk migration. He told her how the CoDominium had moved twenty thousand Eskimos, tribes all mixed together, to a world too cold for the comfort of other peoples.

They'd settled the equator, where the edges of the icecaps almost met. They'd named the world for a myth-figure common to all the tribes, though names differed: the old woman at the bottom of the sea who brought game or withheld it. There was native sea life, and the imported seals and walruses and bears throve too. Various tribes taught each other their secrets. Some had never seen a seal, some had never built an igloo.

The colony throve; but the men studied fusion and Langston Field engineering, and many wound up on Navy and merchant ships. Eskimos don't really like to freeze. The engine room of a Navy ship is a better place, and Eskimos of all tribes have a knack with tools.

Nuliajuk was near Sol and Sparta. It might still be part of the shrinking Empire, but Terry had never seen it. He was a half-breed, born in a Libertarian merchant ship. What he knew of Nuliajuk came from his father.

And Brenda had lived all her life on a Tanith farm. "I took my education from a TV wall. No hands-on, but I learned enough to fix our machines. We had a fusion plant and some Gaineses and Tofflers. Those are special tractors. Maybe the Saurons left them alone."

"Saurons?"

"Sorry." Her grimace twisted her whole face around. "I spent the last four days talking about nothing else. I own that farm now. I don't own anything else." She studied him thoughtfully. Her face in repose was symmetrical enough, square-jawed, strong even by Tanith standards. "Would you like to see it?"

"What?"

"Would you like to see my farm? Can you borrow a plane?" They set it up for two days hence.

2656, JUNE (TANITH LOCAL TIME).

Brenda's face lit when she saw him. "Terry! Have you gotten rich? Have you saved civilization? Have you had fun?"

"No, yes, yes. How are you?"

"You can see, can't you? It's all over, Terry. No more nightmares." He'd never seen her bubble like this. There was no slur in her voice . . . .

but he could see the twitch at the left side of her mouth. Her face was animated on the right, calmer on the left. Her hair bloomed around her head like a great black dandelion, teased, nearly a foot across. The scar must have healed completely. She'd gained some weight.

He remembered that he had loved her. (But he didn't remember her having nightmares.) "They tell me you opened an orphanage."

"Yeah, I had twenty kids in one schlumph," she said. "The city gave me financing to put the farm back on its legs, and there were plenty of workmen to hire, but I thought I'd go nuts taking care of the children and the farm both. It's easier now. The older kids are my farmers, and they learn to take care of the younger ones. Two of them got married and went off to start their own farm. Three are in college, and the oldest boy's in the Navy. I'm back down to twenty kids."

"How many of your own? I met Reseda."

"Four. She's the youngest. And one who died."

"I guess I'm surprised you moved back to the farm."

She shook her head. "I did it right. The children took the curse off the memories. So how are you? You must have stories to tell. What are you doing now?"

"There's a party at the s.p.a.ceport, and we're the stars. Want to join us?"

"No. Busy."

"Can I come out there? Like tomorrow, noon or thereabouts?"

He was watching for hesitation, but it was too quick to be sure. "Good. Come. Noon is fine. You remember how to get here? And noon is just past eleven?"

"And midnight is twenty-two twenty."

"Right. See you then."

He hung up. Now: summon the Library function on the computer? He wondered how much of the Sauron story was still cla.s.sified. But a party was running, and a s.p.a.ceman learned to differentiate: there was a time for urgency and a time to hang loose.

When he pushed back into the crowd, Maria grabbed his arm and shouted in his ear. "Mayor Anderssen!" She pointed.

The Mayor nodded and smiled. He was tall, in his late thirties, with pale skin and ash-blond hair and a wispy beard. Terry reached across the table to offer his hand. The Mayor put something in it. "Card," he shouted. "Temporary."

"Thanks."

The Mayor circled the table and pulled up a chair next to him. "You're the city's guest while you're down. Restaurants, hotels, taxis, rentals."

"Very generous. How can we repay you?"

"Your Captain has already agreed to some interviews. Will you do the same? We're starved for news. I talked Purser Lame into speaking on radio."

"Fine by me. I'm busy tomorrow, though."

'I got a call from a friend of mine, a Brenda Curtis. She says she used to know you-"

"I just called her a minute ago. Hey, one of her kids-"

"Reseda. My daughter. Brenda isn't married, but she's had four children, and she's got something going with a neighbor, Bob Maddox. Anyway, she called to find out if I was getting you cards, which I already was."

Terry's memory told him that nuclear families were the rule on Tanith. "An unusual life-style," he said.

"Not so unusual. We've got more men than women. Four hundred ships wrecked in the Battle. Lots of rescue action. Some of the crews reached Tanith and never went any further. We tend to be generous with child support, and there are specialized marriage contracts. Can you picture the crime rate if every woman thought she had to get married?"

Tanith had changed.

Maria handed Terry a drink, something with fruit and rum. He sipped, and wondered.

Brenda must have called the Mayor as soon as the little girl told her about his first call. He remembered an injured woman trying to put her life back together. She'd been in no position to do spur-of-the-moment favors for others. Brenda had changed too.

2640A, NOVEMBER (TANITH LOCAL TIME).

"We're trying to save civilization," Napoleon's Napoleon's Purser lectured Terry. "Not individual ships. If Tanith doesn't have Purser lectured Terry. "Not individual ships. If Tanith doesn't have some some working s.p.a.cecraft, it won't survive until the Empire gets things straightened out. So. We're giving you working s.p.a.cecraft, it won't survive until the Empire gets things straightened out. So. We're giving you . . . . . . Firebee?-if Firebee?-if you want it. The terms say that you have to run it as a merchant ship or lose it. That's if we decide it's worth repairing. Otherwise. you want it. The terms say that you have to run it as a merchant ship or lose it. That's if we decide it's worth repairing. Otherwise. . . . . Well. We'll have to give any working parts to someone else." Well. We'll have to give any working parts to someone else."

Arrogant, hara.s.sed, defensive. He was dispensing other people's property as charity. The way he used the word give- give- They discussed details. Terry's third list surprised him. He studied it. They discussed details. Terry's third list surprised him. He studied it.

"Your drives are intact? Alderson and fusion both?"

"Running like new. They are new, almost." Terry knew the danger here. Firebee Firebee was alive if her drives were alive. was alive if her drives were alive. . . . . and some other ship might want those drives. and some other ship might want those drives.

"Well. I don't know anyone who needs these spares, offhand, except we'll record these diagnostic programs. Very bright of you to list these. Some of our ships lost most of their data to EMPs. Can I copy this list?"

"Yessir."

"I can give you a rebuilt fusion zap. You'd never leave orbit without that, would you? We can re-core the hover motors on your #2 boat. Spinner for the air plant if you can mount it. Don't Don't tell me you can if you can't. Someone else might need it. You could ruin it trying to make it fit." tell me you can if you can't. Someone else might need it. You could ruin it trying to make it fit."

"I can fit it."

"I dare say. Nuliajuk?"

"Half-breed. Libertarian mother."

"Look, our engineers aren't Esks or or Scots, but they've been with us for years. So we can't hire you ourselves, but some other ship-" Scots, but they've been with us for years. So we can't hire you ourselves, but some other ship-"

"I'd rather make Firebee Firebee fly again." fly again."

"Good luck. I can't give you any more."

From the temporary port he went directly to the hospital. Lex Hartner was in surgery. Terry visited with Charley until Lex came out.

"Brenda Curtis invited me to visit her farm with her. Anything I should know? What's likely to upset her?"

Lex stared at him in astonishment. He said, "Take a gun. A big gun."

"For what?"

"Man, you missed some excitement here. Brenda said something to a nurse a couple of days after she got here. You know what happened to her?"

"She doesn't want to talk about it."

"She sure doesn't, and I don't blame her, but the more she said the more the Navy wanted. She'd have died of exhaustion if I hadn't dragged her away a couple of times. She was kidnapped by two Saurons! They killed the whole family."

"On Tanith itself?"

"Yeah, a landing craft got down. More like a two-seater escape pod, I guess. I haven't seen pictures. It came down near an outback farm, way south. The Saurons killed off her family from ambush. They stayed on the farm for a month. She. . . . . belonged to one of them." Lex was wringing his hands. Likely he didn't know it. "We looked her over to see if she was pregnant." belonged to one of them." Lex was wringing his hands. Likely he didn't know it. "We looked her over to see if she was pregnant."