It was so much wasted breath. He was afraid of them, and there was no way he could pretend otherwise. The thought of their approaching him, maybe even touching him... he shifted his shoulders uncomfortably beneath the sweat-soaked coverall. If he could only get back to his quarters before anyone reached him... but he might as well wish himself a child again.
From the corridor ahead and to his left came the sound of footsteps. Tomo tensed; but even as he pushed away from the wall something within him accepted the inevitable. Standing rigidly, legs trembling with their mindless urge to run, he waited as the other came into sight and stopped.
"Tomo?" Director Halian called gently. "I've come to take you back."
Tomo remained where he was, not acknowledging Halian's words but not running off, either. Licking his lips, the director lowered his voice. "Iris? Secure from surveillance mode. I have Tomo in sight."
"Acknowledged. Sector/level monitor disengaged."
Halian flicked the device off... and he and Tomo were alone. "Don't be afraid," the director told the mainter, aware of the irony of his words. "I'm Director Halian—remember? Let me show you the way back to your quarters. You don't have to come close, just follow me at a distance. You can do that, can't you?" Tomo's mouth worked once, but no words came out. Eyes unblinkingly on Halian, he nodded.
"Good. Come on, then." Walking carefully, Halian backed into the corridor he'd emerged from. A moment later, Tomo followed. Step by step they went, separated by the ten meters or so Tomo seemed to find comfortable.
Halfway down the corridor, still walking backwards, Halian stepped over the fuzzy line onto the thorascrine-stained part of the carpet.
A few more steps, Halian told himself, his eyes on Tomo. Once on the stain, his feet kicking up minute bits of the heavy dust, there would be no turning back. Whether enough remained to kill him or merely make him sick, the important result would be the same: The Goldenrod would leave for Canaan Under Vega without the risk of an insane man aboard. After that... Tomo's fate would be in the universe's hands.
And midway through a step, Halian abruptly stopped.
Tomo stopped, too, five meters from the edge of the thorascrine stain, his face rigid with wary tension at the directors unexpected move. Halian stared at him for a long, painful second... and slowly a new truth dawned on him.
It was one thing to discuss death as a necessary and even humane action. It was another thing entirely to face the person involved and personally carry out the proposal.
He couldn't do it. And he hated himself for his weakness.
He took a step toward Tomo... and another... and with the third, Tomo's look of stunned disbelief changed to terror. "No!" he yelled as he spun and disappeared back into the other corridor.
Halian made no effort to chase him. His knees were weak with reaction, frustration and anger a bitter and debilitating taste in his mouth. He started to turn back, to recross the thorascrine and lose himself in the maze of corridors until the others could make the capture... but he'd taken only a couple of steps in that direction when the most chilling scream he'd ever heard jerked him around again. A dozen quick strides took him around the corner—
A hundred meters away Tomo was thrashing like a fish in the grip of two security guards.
Halian got to the scene in record time; but even so, Scharn and Ross managed to beat him. Tomo's whimpering rose to a final scream as Scharn reached between the guards with her hypo, a terrified shriek that left a ringing in Halians ears even after it faded into silence. A moment later the mainter's last twitchings ceased. Scharn said something Halian didn't catch, and the guards lifted the limp form and carried him toward the elevators. "Well?" a soft voice asked at Halians side.
The director jumped; he hadn't really noticed Ross come over. "No," he murmured bitterly. "I lost my nerve."
Ross said nothing, but gripped Halians arm briefly before hurrying to catch up with the others. Halian followed more slowly. All right, Doctor, he thought at Scharn's receding back. You've got your chance now. And you'd damn well better not mess it up like I did.
—
It was a long way up from the starless pit of unconsciousness, but there was something soothing in the darkness that removed any possible terror from the disorientation. Tomo had plenty of time to think and remember; and when he finally opened his eyes it was with total lack of surprise that he found himself lying in the lounge chair in his portside quarters. Attached to his right upper arm was a wide band, and he puzzled over it a moment before deciding it must be some sort of biosensory telemeter.
"Hello, Tomo."
He jerked at the quiet voice... but Scharn was only present via the viewer on his desk. "Hello, Doctor," he said, relaxing again.
"Sorry if I startled you," she apologized. "I wanted to talk to you and thought this would be the best way. How are you feeling?"
Tomo sighed. "Tired, mostly." He locked eyes with her image. "It's true, isn't it, what Max said. I've been conditioned to be afraid of people."
Scharn's lip twitched minutely. "More or less. That part wasn't done on purpose, but I don't suppose that's any comfort."
"Not really." Tomo closed his eyes, feeling almost relieved that it was over. No uncertainties remained; only cold, hard truth. "So that's it, then. I'll never be able to be with other people."
"Does that bother you?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. How can I miss something I've never experienced? It's just—" Something seemed to catch in his throat. "It's just that I know now that there's something normal people can do that I can't. It makes me... something less than human."
He opened his eyes in time to see Scharn catch her lower lip between her teeth. "There are a lot of things in this universe that some people can do that others can't," she said gently. "I could never spend years at a time alone on a starship— and even if I could, I wouldn't know the first thing about maintaining it. You can do both of those. It doesn't mean either of us is better or worse than the other; it just means we're different."
"Maybe." Tomo paused, steeling himself for the crucial question. "Are you going to let me go back to the Goldenrod?"
He saw her eyes shift left, and knew she was checking some of his physiological readouts: reading from his body's reactions the state of his mind. The thought of being laid open like that before her didn't bother him; briefly, he wondered if it should. "I don't think that'll be a problem," she said after a moment. "If it's what you want, of course."
"It is," he said. "It's where I belong. The only place I ever will belong."
"Some people spend all their lives trying to figure out where they belong," she pointed out softly. "At least you've got that much."
Tomo looked at her... and slowly it dawned on him that the gentleness in her voice was perhaps less professional technique than it was simply pity. "You don't need to feel sorry for me, Doctor," he told her. "I really do enjoy being in space... being who I am. It's just—well, I'd like to be able to face other people. Even if I never do it. You understand what I'm trying to say?"
"I think so," she nodded. "You're trying to expand the edges of your life, to push yourself as far as you can go."
He grimaced. "Looks like I'm already there, doesn't it?"
"Nonsense!" Scharn snorted with a vehemence that surprised him. "You're a human being, Tomo. No human being yet has ever found his own limits."
Echoes of his own words to Max, Tomo thought. He'd believed them then; now he wasn't so sure. "Um," he grunted noncommittally.