V
Well, it wasn't quite that quick. Wasn't really simple, either, because Gelle-Klara Moynlin wouldn't allow that. ("Being mother-in-law of the groom makes me mother of the bride, hon. Just put yourself in my hands and let me do my job.") She did it, too. She told them they had to have, at least, music. And flowers. And a nice dress for Estrella to wear; and a few friends to wish them well; and when you put them all together not only was their own apartment too small but so was Klara's. The only suitably large space anywhere nearby was the institute's main hall, and the institute was glad enough, indeed delighted, to grant any request at all from the person who had, more or less, helped save the Core.
When Stan and Estrella arrived for the ceremony, they were delighted too. "Roses!" Estrella exclaimed, wonderingly. "And, look, calla lilies too! I wonder where they got them. Do you suppose Marc Antony could've made them out of a Food Factory?"
Stan would have agreed, because he was pretty sure there was no limit to what Marc Antony could make out of CHON and a sprinkling of other elements, but he had a wonder of his own. "And where the hell did they get that band?" Half a dozen Heechee were established on a platform at one end of the room, tootling away on a variety of instruments—not only drums, a piano and a pair of banjos but a horn and a clarinet, just as though those were anatomically feasible for them. He even recognized the tune they were playing. It was "Embraceable You," played just as it had been on the vid disks Klara had imported for him—
"Oh, hell," he said, surprised into a grin. It wasn't like Dizzy Gillespie doing the set. It really was Dizzy Gillespie. The Heechee were only miming the instruments in their hands; the actual music was coming from speakers all around the room.
And when he looked around, Estrella was gone.
He peered around the room, and was just in time to see Estrella, tugged along by Klara, Salt and a couple of female Heechee he didn't recognize, disappearing down one of the institute's interior hallways. He didn't have time to look after her very long, because he was immediately surrounded by well-wishers, Sigfrid and Achiever, Dr. Kusmeroglu, Klara's shipmind, Hypatia, a dozen or more persons whom he recognized only with difficulty or didn't recognize at all. They all seemed glad to see him. When organic, they slapped him on the back (if male) or gave him warm hugs and chaste kisses (if female). The simulated ones had their own modes of expression, from blown kisses to casual waves, but, however expressed, they were uniformly affectionate. In the middle of having not only his back slapped but his hand wrung simultaneously by two of the Old Ones' keepers from One Moon Planet of Pale Yellow Star Fourteen Stan was struck by a belated thought. "Damn it," he said to the room in general, and looked wildly around until he caught sight of Sigfrid von Shrink. Who came over in response to Stan's wave, politely asking, "Yes, Stan?"
"I didn't think! I need a best man. Will you—?"
Sigfrid would. Was honored to be asked, he said, and went away for a moment. When he returned he had changed his clothing entirely. He now wore striped trousers, a morning coat, a handsome cravat and an expression of dignified delight.
Not that Stan had much time to admire his new best man. Everyone in the room was surrounding him at once, most of the organic ones trying to press glasses of wine on him (uniformly refused; Stan was capable of learning from experience). Most of the males had little jokes to whisper in his ear—seldom understood by Stan—and most of the females were telling him how lucky he was to be about to have a child.
And, having said it all, they generally went on to say it all over again.
Before Stan could get really annoyed with all the attention, though not much before, he became aware that the press of well-wishers was thinning. One by one, they were leaving his side to seat themselves in decorous rows of chairs and perches, opening up an aisle that led to where, he discovered, Rowena McClune stood waiting, sumptuously robed in what looked like pure white silk. If Marc Antony had made that, too, out of the ingredients for CHON-food, Stan was willing to consider him a master couturier.
And Rowena gave Stan a small beckoning wave and a smile.
Stan took the hint. By the time she had positioned him next to her side the band stopped in the middle of a Fats Waller "Tea for Two" and all of the Heechee mimes stood silent and unmoving. A different kind of music began from the speakers. It was Mendelssohn's wedding march, played by some unidentified symphony orchestra. And out of the corridor Gelle-Klara Moynlin appeared, hearing a bouquet of lilies as she decorously walked in slow time up the aisle. A moment later Estrella followed. She wore a gown of whitest silk and most delicate lace, acquired from where Stan could not imagine. Her belly was big enough to hold a watermelon. Her eyes were still misaligned. The rest of her features had never been particularly remarkable ... but as far as Stan was concerned, he realized, why, yes, she really was one beautiful woman.
He held her hand tightly as they turned to face Rowena McClune. Who gave them a fond smile as she began, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here this day...."
There was food for everyone, also drink, also another set of Stan's favorite old jazz numbers, "Paper Doll" and "St. Louis Blues" and "St. James Infirmary Blues" and half a dozen other blues numbers, again simulated by the Heechee sextet. There was even dancing. First there was the one obligatory turn around the cramped floor by the newlyweds, then some odd impressions of ballroom steps by humans and Heechee alike.
Back in their seats of honor, neither Stan nor Estrella had much use for the drink, but they couldn't escape the food. Didn't want to, when you came right down to it. Marc Antony had outdone himself. Fresh, chilled raw oysters. Delicate little sausages in the lightest of tiny rolls. Bowls of fresh pineapple and blueberries, cherries and kiwis, suitably chilled and still bearing their fresh (however manufactured by Marc) drops of dew. Stan ate a great deal. Probably to be polite Estrella did too, and Stan was not surprised when she excused herself to visit the sanitary slot. He did notice that when she came back she seemed a bit subdued. He was considering following her example when Hypatia of Alexandria popped into existence between them. "Estrella! Stork indicates that something's going on with the baby! How do you feel?"
Estrella gave her a game smile. "Oh, I guess I've had too much rich food, too fast—"
Hypatia was wagging her bejeweled head. "That's not what Stork's indicating. I think we'd better get you to the birthing room. I'll call Dr. Kusmeroglu. Let's get moving. I mean now!"
VI
Once again Stan had crash-dived from being the center of attention, or at least 50 percent of the center, to the status of largely overlooked onlooker. It didn't take long, either. At one moment he and Estrella were receiving congratulations and badinage. At the next Estrella was gone, escorted by about a dozen of the female guests, Dr. Kusmeroglu in the lead. Oh, there were plenty of people left in the room. But they were all in small knots, animatedly talking over this new development, and Stan was left, almost alone, to gaze after his departing bride.
Achiever was the one who took pity on him. "One exhibits feelings of sympathy," he announced, taking Stan's hand in his own skeletal one. "Come."
He didn't say where. Didn't need to, really. He was pretty strong, and Stan didn't resist.
It was the first time Stan had been in a nonpublic part of the institute. It was interesting, too, or at least tantalizing. Through doorways they passed Stan caught glimpses of odd-looking machines (?), or furniture (?), or, perhaps, art objects (???) In spite of the circumstances, and of the fact that he kept bumping his head on the low Heechee ceilings, he thought wistfully that it would have been nice to have had a better look at them. He had no such look. Achiever had a goal in mind. It wasn't until they had almost reached it that he stopped and stood for a moment gazing at Stan. "Have a thing to mention, in some degree not unrelevant to variety of custom you with Estrella have just observed," he announced.