That question sang in his ears as he stopped to look down the sweep of the Common to the bridge. The wind from the mountains cooled his face and he sniffed it for any trace of smoke. Only the cinnamony odor of the porous wood trees filled his nostrils, nothing more. He trudged wearily on toward his house.
Under the needle tree that drooped over their roof stood what had lately been renamed the 'mourner's bench.' The central figure was the pathetically passive Todd, his hands for once limp on his thighs, his face immovably turned toward the bridge. He scarcely seemed to breathe. Beside him and on the ground at his feet sat several children, playing their endless quiet games, bearing him company in his sorrow in the curious way of the young.
No change? Ken asked Pat, indicating his apathetic son.
Pat hurriedly dried her hands to embrace him, her eyes sliding from his toward the child.
Maria finally got him to eat something, and she gave a wry smile. Some form of blackmail was used, I think. Oh, Ken, and once inside the privacy of the house, her chin trembled and she dissolved against him, weeping.
Ken held her close, wishing that he were permitted to indulge in the therapy of tears.
Ken, when I think how mean I've been to him how mean we've all been telling him to shut up, to sit still, to be quiet and then to see him sitting there, hour after hour. Oh, Ken, I know he doesn't sleep. He just lies there, staring at the ceiling . . .
Honey, honey, it won't be long now. Landreau's about given up, and Ken tried to inject honest encouragement into his reassurance.
Do you really think so? Pat asked, looking up at him with watery eyes, sniffling back her tears.
Looks that way. You know, in a sense, Todd brought this all on himself.
Ken, how can you possibly . . .
Well, Pat, one thing that has kept Landreau here is the look in Todd's face when he charged into the clearing. We might have some motive for deceiving Spacedep, but not that six-year-old kid. Although why Landreau thinks we invented natives, or aliens, I don't honestly know. But it's Todd who's kept Landreau looking. God knows, there's not a stitch of evidence to support our story.
Ken will they come back? and Pat's face began to crumple again. I mean, after Landreau's gone, will they come back?
That's not as big a question as how and why did they disappear in the first place.
Toddy was still sitting on his mourner's bench when the rest of his family had finished dinner. Resolutely Pat had taken food out to him. Ken turned his chair to watch. Every evening that week Pat had advanced on her fasting son with the grim determination that food would pass his lips that night or else. An hour later, 'else' had been reached and Pat would trudge back to the cabin to seek solace in Ken's arms. Tonight Pat's pilgrimage was interrupted by the arrival of Landreau and Kate Moody. The trio stood looking down at Todd and something in Kate's face prompted Ken to join them.
I don't care what your authority is, Spaceman, Kate said in a harsh, almost defiant voice. I will not permit a minor in my charge to undergo such an ordeal. The lasting effects of such a treatment are too brutal to be considered.
So you intend to be a party to treason? Landreau demanded. He jutted out his chin until his head appeared neckless, drawn down between his shoulders, giving him a vaguely Cro-Magnon look.
Kate snorted derisively. Don't be ridiculous and don't play the heavy militant with me. I will not risk warping a mind to ease your conscience or save your reputation; not on the grounds you supply.
Pat seated herself beside Todd, her arm thrown protectively around his shoulders. Todd paid no heed to their presence. He kept his eyes unblinkingly on the bridge. Reeve moved himself obtrusively into the spaceman's way. Landreau watched Todd through narrowed eyes. With a darting glance, he glared first at Ken, then at Kate, before turning again to Todd. Then he snorted, shrugged and, turning smartly on his heel, strode back to the office.
Deep night was broken by the roar of his ship's departure. The noise roused Ken and Pat, and Ken, a sheet clutched around him, rushed out to witness the bright lance of fire arrowing skyward.
Just like him to take off in the middle of the night, he grunted when he was satisfied that the ship was achieving an escape velocity instead of veering off for an atmosphere flight. But I wouldn't put it past him to double back and hide out somewhere, he added under his breath.
As he padded back to bed, he passed Toddy's room and heard a long-drawn-out sigh. Peering around the doorpost, he saw Todd turn over in bed. Slowly the child curled up into the tight little ball in which he always slept. Pat called it 'winding the spring for the next day.' Quietly Ken leaned over Todd and saw that the eyes were closed for the first time that week. A happy smile curved the childish lips. Infinitely relieved, Ken watched a moment longer to be positive. Satisfied, he tiptoed back to bed.
Landreau's good and gone. And Toddy's asleep, he told Pat.
Asleep? Pat sat bolt upright, clutching at the sheet Ken was spreading back over the bed.
Yes, my dear girl, asleep. Bet you anything the Hrrubans are back in their village tomorrow.
How can you sound so sure? Pat demanded.
Ken pounded his pillow into submission, dug his head into the depression and drew the sheet around his shoulders.
I'm not sure of anything on this crazy, mixed-up world, but just wait until tomorrow.
Chapter XIX. THE WRONG SIDE
KATE MOODY, I will not pump my child, Reeve declared, pounding the table to emphasize his position.
Kenneth Reeve you're as wall-thick stubborn as he is, Kate flashed back.
Good thing too. Seems to me though, Kate Moody, you're reversing yourself. I heard you tell Landreau you wouldn't . . .
Kate flushed. You know damn well I'm not asking your permission to drug the child and dig into his subconscious. I'm merely asking you to ask him to . . .
Get his best friend to give away trade secrets, Reeve finished for her. And I won't. No sweat, Kate, I want to find out as badly as you do. But I will not ask my son to violate his friendship with Hrriss. It means too much to him. Why jeopardize it for a woman's simple curiosity?
That's just like a man, bringing sex into it, Kate snapped with trenchant scorn and exasperation.
Bringing sex into it? Ken gagged, trying to hold onto the shreds of his temper.
You most certainly do when you use the noun 'woman' as a possessive adjective, Kate replied.
Now, wait just a moment, you two, Pat said, stepping between them. What makes you think, Kate, that we could get Todd to tell anything he and Hrriss have talked about?
Kate blinked at her in surprise. What d'you mean?
"I mean that Todd is monosyllable king. 'Honey, did you have a good day with Hrriss?' " Pat mimicked herself, turning her head one way. " 'Yep.' " She approximated Toddy's oddly bass voice and turned her head in the other direction. " 'What did you do?' 'Oh!' " and Pat's shoulders lifted in a childish shrug, " 'nothing.' 'What did Mrrva give you for lunch?' 'Oh, nutty stuff.' 'You mean it tasted like nuts or it was nutty-nutty stuff?' 'Yep.' "
Pat regarded the two with amused tolerance.
I absolutely defy either of you to get much information out of exchanges like that.
Kate had the grace to look sheepish and Ken straightened up, righteously redeemed.
I did, I admit, Pat went on, try to find out myself.
What'd he say? What'd he say?
Pat shrugged and laughed, spreading her hands wide in admission of her failure. "He said, 'they went someplace else for a while.' "
Kate sagged with deflation.
Kate, Pat reminded the psychologist, you were the one who told me Todd was unique and we'd simply have to let him 'dree his ain wierd in the world.' Mind your own advice. Then she turned back to her needle-work, ignoring the other two.
Aimlessly Kate wandered out and finally sat down on the mourner's bench. Ken joined her.