It was not at all the kind of thing Rafiel had had in mind, but then he hadn't had much of anything very specifically in his mind, because what did Hakluyt need with a tap-dancer? But he was actually helping in the effort. (The ten-year-old he relieved was quite useful in bringing sandwiches and drinks to the sweating cargo handlers.) Rafiel found that he liked taking care of babies. Even the changing of diapers was a fairly constructive thing to do. Not exactly aesthetic, no. Extremely repetitious, yes, for the diapers never stayed clean. But while he was doing it he thought of the task as prepaying a debt he would owe to whomever, nine months later, would be changing the diapers of his own child.
The ten-year-old was nice enough to teach Rafiel the technical skills he needed for the work. More than that, he was nice enough to be acceptably impressed when he found out just who Rafiel was. ('But I've seen you on the screen! And you've got a new show coming out - when? Soon?') The boy even brought his older brother - a superior and taller version of the same, all of thirteen - around to meet this certified star. When Rafiel had a moment to think of it, between coaxing a two-year-old to take her nap and attempting to burp a younger one, it occurred to him that he was - yes, actually - quite happy. He liked all these strange, dedicated, space-faring people who shared the habitat with him. 'Strange' was a good word for them, though. Unlike all the friends and colleagues he'd spent his life with, these Hakluytisans spoke unomamented English, without loan words, without circumlocutions. They had basically unomamented bodies, too. Their clothes were simply functional, and even the youngest and best-looking wore no jewels.
When Rafiel had pondered over that for a while an explanation suddenly occurred to him. These people simply didn't have time for frills. Astonishing though the thought was, these immortal people were in such a hurry to do things that, even with eternities before them, they had no time to waste.
The day before Hakluyt was to leave, Alegretta somehow stole enough time from her duties to go with Rafiel to the birthing clinic, where they watched the transfer of their almost-child from Nicolette's tiny belly to the more than adequate one of a placid roan mare. It was a surgical spectacle, to be sure, but peaceful rather than gruesome. Even Nicolette did not seem to mind, as long as Alegretta's hand was on her head.
On the way back to their cabin Alegretta was silent. Stranger still, she was dawdling, when always she was in a hurry to get to the work that she had to do.
Rafiel was aware of this, though he was continually distracted by passers-by. The ten-year-old had spread the word of his fame. It seemed that every third person they passed, however busy, at least looked up and nodded or called a friendly greeting to him. After the twentieth or thirtieth exchange Rafiel said, 'Sorry about all this, Alegretta.'
She looked up at him curiously. 'About what? About the fact that they like you? When's this Oedipus going to be released?'
'In about a week, I think.'
'In about a week.' It wasn't necessary for her to point out that in a week Hakluyt would be six days gone. 'I think a lot of these people are going to want to watch it,' she said, musing. 'They'll be really sorry you aren't here so they can make a fuss over you when it's on.'
Rafiel only nodded, though for some inexplicable reason internally he felt himself swelling with pleasure and pride. Then he bent close to her, puzzled at the low-pitched thing she had said. 'What?'
'I said, you could be here,' Alegretta repeated. 'I mean, if you wanted to. If you didn't mind not going back to the Earth, ever, because - oh, God,' she wailed, 'how can you say "Because you're going to be dead in a few weeks anyway so it doesn't really matter where you are" in a loving way?'
She stopped there, because Rafiel had put a gentle finger to her lips.
'You just did,' he said. 'And of course I'll come along. I was only waiting to be asked.'
14
Fewer than thirty-six hours have passed since Hakluyt's launch, but all that time its stem thrusters were hard at their decades- long work of pushing the ship across interstellar space. By now it is already some fifteen million kilometres from its near-Martian orbit and, with every second that passes, Alegretta's lukewarm- fusion jets are thrusting it several hundred kilometres farther away. The reactors are performing perfectly. Still, Alegretta can hardly bear to let the controls and instruments that tell her so out of her sight. After the pre-launch frenzy, Hakluyt's five thousand pioneers are beginning to catch up on their sleep. So is Alegretta.
Rafiel tried to make no noise as he pulled on his robe and started toward the sanitary, but he could see Alegretta beginning to stir in her sleep. Safely outside their room he was more relaxed - at least, acted relaxed, nodding brightly to the people he passed in the hall. It was only when he was looking in the mirror that the acting stopped and he let the fatigue and discomfort show in his face. There was more of it every day now. The body that had served him for ninety-odd years was wearing out. But, as there was absolutely nothing to be done about that fact, he put it out of his mind, showered quickly, dressed in the pink shorts and flowered tunic that was the closest he had to Hakluyt- style clothing and returned to their room. By then Alegretta was sitting dazedly on the edge of the bed, watching Nicolette, at the foot of the bed, dutifully licking her kitten.
'You should have slept a little longer,' he said fondly.
She blinked up at him. 'I can't. Anyway' - she paused for a yawn - 'there's a staff meeting coming up. I ought to decide what I want to put in for.'
Rafiel gently pushed the cats out of the way and sat down companionably next to her. They had talked about her future plans before. He knew that Alegretta would have to be reassigned to some other task for the long trip. Unless something went seriously wrong with the reactors there would be little for her to do there. (And if, most improbably, anything did go seriously wrong with them in the space between the stars, the ship would be in more trouble than its passengers could hope to survive.) 'What kind of job are you looking for?'
'I'm not sure. I've been thinking of food control, maybe,' she said, frowning. 'Or else waste recycling. Which do you think?'
He pretended to take the question seriously. He was aware that both jobs were full-time, hands-on assignments, like air and water control. If any of those vital services failed, the ship would be doomed in a different way. Therefore human crews would be assigned to them all the time the ship was in transit - and for longer still if they found no welcoming planet circling Tau Ceti. But he knew that there was nothing in his background to help Alegretta make a choice, so he said at random: 'Food control sounds like more fun.'
'Do you think so?' She thought that over. 'Maybe it is, sort of, but I'd need a lot of retraining for aeroponics and trace-element management. The waste thing is easier. It's mostly plumbing, and I've got a good head start on that.'
He kissed her. 'Sleep on it,' he advised, getting up.
She looked worriedly up at him, remembering to be a doctor. 'You're the one who should be sleeping more.'
'I've had plenty, and anyway I can't. Manfred will be waiting for me with the babies.'
'Must you? I mean, should you? The boy can handle them by himself, and you look so tired....'
'I'm fine,' he said, trying to reassure the person who knew better than he.