“Damnation,” said Ethan wistfully, “I’d like to dandle him.”
“Won’t be the same when he grows up and comes here,” Amantha conceded. “There I go agreein’ with you! What’s got into me?”
“Maybe we can get on the next slow ship. They run them once in a while for people with weak hearts.” He considered. “Don’t know whether Retired Citizens’ Home will let us go, though.”
“Retired Citizens!” She blew her nose scornfully. “They think we don’t know it’s just a home for the aged!” She threw away the tissue. “Think they’ll let us?”
“It won’t be them so much that’ll stop us. Our hearts ain’t too good and we haven’t got much space time to use. We shouldn’t have gone to Venus.”
“We had to see Edith and Ed and their kids and we had to come back to Mars so we could be near John and Pearl and Ray. Let’s not regret what we’ve done.” She picked at the chair arm. “We’ve been here a long time, ain’t we?”
Ethan nodded.
“Maybe they’ve forgotten we’ve only got a month left,” she said eagerly.
“You sure it’s a month?”
“Figure it out. It took longer when we went.”
“Then it’s no use. A slow ship is all we’d be allowed to take—and we wouldn’t be allowed because it’d be more than a month.”
“They won’t remember every last minute we spent in space.”
“They will, too,” he stated. “They’ve got records.”
“Maybe they lost them.”
“Look, we’ve got kids and grandchildren here. They come around and see us. Do we have to go to Earth, ’specially when it’d be against the law?”
“That’s just it,” she argued. “We’ve seen all our other kids’ kids. Ain’t we going to see the youngest? How do we know his wife can take care of a baby? I can’t sleep nights, thinking of it.”
“Try catnaps during the day, like I do.”
Amantha touched the button and the automatic chair stopped abruptly. “Are you going to try to get tickets or aren’t you?”
“I’ll think about it. Go ahead and rock.”
“I won’t,” she said obstinately, “not even if it was the kind of chair you can rock yourself. I thought I married a man who’d make me happy.”
“I’ve always done my best. Go ahead and rock.”
“But will you try to get the tickets?”
Ethan nodded resignedly and felt better when the chair began to swing back and forth. There was no living with a woman when she didn’t have peace of mind.
Amantha lay in bed, listening. Sometimes her hearing was very good, the way it used to be. Other times, it wasn’t worth a thing. The way it came and went reminded her of when she was young and used to wonder why old folks couldn’t hear. Now she could often lie next to Ethan and not even notice whether he was snoring. Tonight her hearing was good.
Footsteps came from the hall, creaky noises of someone trying not to make a sound. She’d lain awake many nights, hearing him come home. She knew who it was and for once she didn’t mind. The Home for Retired Citizens had rules.
Careful, she thought. There’s the bad spot where the floor’s thin and bends when you step on it. Then when your foot comes off it, it goes ploinnnnng. They don’t build right any more. Skimping and trying to save.
But there wasn’t a sound. Ethan avoided it. When she thought of it, she realized he had a suspicious amount of skill—the skill of practice.
Ethan was fumbling at the door and she forgot her irritation. She slipped out of bed and swung the door open. He stumbled in against her. “’Mantha, they laughed—”
“Did you have anything to eat?” she broke in.
“Cup of that Mars coffee. But—”
“Don’t talk till you get something hot inside. Empty belly, empty head.”
“Can’t eat stuff that comes out of the wall. I’ll wait till breakfast.”
She flicked the light on low and punched the selector. She took the glow-plate from under the bed and set it on the table. As the food arrived, she heated it and began adding spices. “There—it ain’t real food, but you can pretend.”
Ethan pretended and, when the food was gone, wiped his lips and looked at her.
She nodded. “Now you can tell me—but keep your voice low. Don’t wake anyone up.”
Ethan stretched and creaked. “Went down to the Interplanet office and they wouldn’t talk to me. Said there wasn’t any ship leaving for the next ten months and they didn’t sell tickets in advance. I kept pestering them and they got mad. They looked up our records and said we couldn’t go anytime, except on a fast ship, and, considering our age, it was doubtful they’d let us. Didn’t give up, though, and finally they said we might get a release from the man who’d take us. Maybe they wanted to get rid of me. Anyway, they sent me down to talk with one of the pilots.”
Amantha approved. Go straight to the man responsible. Persistence could get you there.
“He talked real nice for a while,” Ethan continued. “He explained he didn’t own the ship and didn’t have the say-so who he took. I knew you wanted to go real bad. I offered him the money we’d saved.”
“All of it, Ethan?”
“Don’t get mad. Figured it was worth it to you.”
“Don’t believe in paying extra,” she mused, “but did you tell him we could borrow some if it wasn’t enough?”
“Didn’t get a chance. He started laughing, saying didn’t I understand he got paid not just for each trip, but for all the years after that, when he was finished and had used up his time and couldn’t work at the only thing he knew? Saying that he wouldn’t risk that kind of security for any money and I was an idiot for believing he might.” Ethan trembled.
“Never mind. He’s an old fool.”
“He’s younger than Jimmy.”
“Some people get wisdom when they’re young.”
Ethan sat morosely in the chair. “If Jimmy hadn’t made that last trip, he’d be here and he’d have married a girl here and his kids would be here. We wouldn’t have to worry about them.”
“I guess so, but he was lucky anyway. They found out he wasn’t as strong as he was supposed to be and wouldn’t let him come back.” She began clearing the dishes. “How’d they know he couldn’t come back?”
“They got tests. They give them each trip.”
She should have thought of it. They had tests. Because of tests, Jimmy was safe but distant. She sat down.
“Tired.” Ethan yawned. “Let’s go to bed.”
“You go. I’m thinking.”
Amantha went on thinking while he undressed and lay down. Sometimes it was difficult—things weren’t as clear as they used to be. Tonight, though, she had no trouble managing her mind. A woman who had kids had to know her way around things. Presently, she said, “Tomorrow I’m going to bake.”
Ethan stirred. “Won’t do no good. Didn’t say so, but there was a girl talking to the pilot when I got there. She was crying and begging him to take her to Earth next trip. Said she’d do anything if he would.”
“Shame on her!” exclaimed Amantha. “But did it work?”
“She was young and pretty and still he wouldn’t pay attention to her,” said Ethan. “What chance would you have?”
“I’m going to bake tomorrow. In the morning, we’re supposed to go for a walk. We’ll take a big basket. Do you remember the old canal nobody goes near any more?”
There was no answer. Ethan was asleep. Now that she’d decided what to do, she lay down beside him.
The sentry huddled in his post. It was insulated and supplied with oxygen, very much like a spacesuit. Though big for a spacesuit, it was a small place to spend hours in without relief. But there were compensations: never anything to do—except as now. He went to the mike.