"He did not get it garbled; the Chief Officer did send for you."
"Eh?"
"Captain, your Mother is dead."
Krausa listened with blank face, then it sank in and he slapped the door aside, ran to his Mother's bed, threw himself down, clutched the tiny, wasted form laid out in state, and began to weep racking, terrible sounds, the grief of a man steeled against emotion, who cannot handle it when he breaks.
Thorby watched with awed distress, then went to his bunkie and thought. He tried to figure out why he felt so badly. He had not loved Grandmother -- he hadn't even liked her.
Then why did he feel so lost?
It was almost like when Pop died. He loved Pop -- but not her.
He found that he was not alone; the entire ship was in shock. There was not one who could remember, or imagine, Sisu without her. She was Sisu. Like the undying fire that moved the ship, Grandmother had been an unfailing force, dynamic, indispensable, basic. Now suddenly she was gone.
She had taken her nap as usual, grumbling because Woolamurra's day fitted their schedule so poorly -- typical fraki inefficiency. But she had gone to sleep with iron discipline that had adapted itself to a hundred time schedules.
When her daughter-in-law went to wake her, she could not be waked.
Her bedside scratch pad held many notes: Speak to Son about this. Tell Tora to do that. Jack up the C.E. about temperature control. Go over banquet menus with Athena. Rhoda Krausa tore out the page, put it away for reference, straightened her, then ordered the Deck Master to notify her husband.
The Captain was not at dinner. Grandmother's couch had been removed; the Chief Officer sat where it had been. In the Captain's absence the Chief Officer signaled the Chief Engineer; he offered the prayer for the dead, she gave the responses. Then they ate in silence. No funeral would be held until Gathering.
The Chief Officer stood up presently. "The Captain wishes to announce," she said quietly, "that he thanks those who attempted to call on him. He will be available tomorrow." She paused. " 'The atoms come out of space and to space they return. The spirit of Sisu goes on.' "
Thorby suddenly no longer felt lost.
Chapter 14
The great gathering was even more than Thorby had imagined. Mile after mile of ships, more than eight hundred bulky Free Traders arranged in concentric ranks around a circus four miles across... Sisu in the innermost circle -- which seemed to please Thorby's Mother -- then more ships than Thorby knew existed: Kraken, Deimos, James B. Quinn, Firefly, Bon Marche, Dom Pedro, Cee Squared, Omega, El Nido -- Thorby resolved to see how Mata was doing -- Saint Christopher, Vega, Vega Prime, Galactic Banker, Romany Lass... Thorby made note to get a berthing chart... Saturn, Chiang, Country Store, Joseph Smith, Aloha...
There were too many. If he visited ten ships a day, he might see most of them. But there was too much to do and see; Thorby gave up the notion.
Inside the circle was a great temporary stadium, larger than the New Amphitheater at Jubbulpore. Here elections would be held, funerals and weddings, athletic contests, entertainments, concerts -- Thorby recalled that Spirit of Sisu would be performed there and trembled with stage fright.
Between stadium and ships was a midway -- booths, rides, games, exhibits educational and entertaining, one-man pitches, dance halls that never closed, displays of engineering gadgets, fortunetellers, gambling for prizes and cash, open-air bars, soft drink counters offering anything from berry juices of the Pleiades worlds to a brown brew certified to be the ancient, authentic Terran Coca-Cola as licensed for bottling on Hekate.
When he saw this maelstrom Thorby felt that he had wandered into Joy Street -- bigger, brighter, and seven times busier than Joy Street with the fleet in. This was the fraki's chance to turn a fairly honest credit while making suckers of the shrewdest businessmen in the Galaxy; this was the day, with the lid off and the Trader without his guards up -- they'd sell you your own hat if you laid it on the counter.
Fritz took Thorby dirtside to keep him out of trouble, although Fritz's sophistication was hardly complete, since he had seen just one Great Gathering. The Chief Officer lectured the young people before granting hit-dirt, reminding them that Sisu had a reputation for proper behavior, and then issued each a hundred credits with a warning that it must last throughout the Gathering.
Fritz advised Thorby to cache most of it. "When we go broke, we can sweet-talk Father out of pocket money. But it's not smart to take it all."
Thorby agreed. He was not surprised when he felt the touch of a pickpocket; he grabbed a wrist to find out what he had landed.
First he recovered his wallet. Then he looked at the thief. He was a dirty-faced young fraki who reminded Thorby poignantly of Ziggie, except that this kid had two hands. "Better luck next time," he consoled him. "You don't have the touch yet."
The kid seemed about to cry. Thorby started to turn him loose, then said, "Fritz, check your wallet."
Fritz did so, it was gone. "Well, I'll be --"
"Hand it over, kid."
"I didn't take it! You let me go!"
"Cough up... before I unscrew your skull."
The kid surrendered Fritz's wallet; Thorby turned him loose. Fritz said, "Why did you do that? I was trying to spot a cop."
"That's why."
"Huh? Talk sense."
"I tried to learn that profession once. It's not easy."
"You? A poor joke, Thorby."
"Remember me? The ex-fraki, the beggar's boy? That clumsy attempt to equalize the wealth made me homesick. Fritz, where I come from, a pickpocket has status. I was merely a beggar."
"Don't let Mother hear that."
"I shan't. But I am what I am and I know what I was and I don't intend to forget. I never learned the pickpocket art, but I was a good beggar, I was taught by the best. My Pop. Baslim the Cripple. I'm not ashamed of him and all the Laws of Sisu can't make me."
"I did not intend to make you ashamed," Fritz said quietly.
They walked on, savoring the crowd and the fun. Presently Thorby said, "Shall we try that wheel? I've spotted the gimmick."
Fritz shook his head. "Look at those so-called prizes."
"Okay. I was interested in how it was rigged."
"Thorby --"
"Yeah? Why the solemn phiz?"
"You know who Baslim the Cripple really was?"
Thorby considered it. "He was my Pop. If he had wanted me to know anything else, he would have told me."
"Mmm... I suppose so."
"But you know?"
"Some."
"Uh, I am curious about one thing. What was the debt that made Grandmother willing to adopt me?"
"Uh, 'I have said enough.' "
"You know best."
"Oh, confound it, the rest of the People know! It's bound to come up at this Gathering."
"Don't let me talk you into anything, Fritz."
"Well... look, Baslim wasn't always a beggar."
"So I long since figured out."
"What he was is not for me to say. A lot of People kept his secret for years; nobody has told me that it is all right to talk. But one fact is no secret among the People... and you're one of the People. A long time ago, Baslim saved a whole Family. The People have never forgotten it. The Hansea, it was... the New Hansea is sitting right over there. The one with the shield painted on her. I can't tell you more, because a taboo was placed on it -- the thing was so shameful that we never talk about it. I have said enough. But you could go over to the New Hansea and ask to look through her old logs. If you identified yourself -- who you are in relation to Baslim -- they couldn't refuse. Though the Chief Officer might go to her cabin afterwards and have weeping hysterics."