"I don't mean like that." She hesitated before adding, "I mean, like the first time he saw me he didn't look shocked, or give me that gee-what-a-pity look, or anything like that."
Stan was puzzled until he noticed that Estrella was fingering her left cheekbone. "Oh," he said awkwardly. "Well—" And ran out of things to say at that point, because, in fact, he had just about forgotten that there was anything odd about Estrella's eyes. He fidgeted and hemmed and hawed, and said at last, "Hell, Strell, nobody cares about that, do they?"
The look she gave him was both fond and sad. Then she dismissed the subject. "Let's talk about this other business."
They did talk. Talked and talked, and kept on talking, and never did come to any satisfactory conclusion. Perhaps that was because there wasn't one. Stan summed it all up by saying rebelliously, "I just hate the idea of anybody else getting inside my head."
"I know, hon," Estrella told him, touching his shoulder with affection. "The thing is, we owe them, don't we? Bringing us here, giving us a place to live and all that?" Stan shrugged, and Estrella covered a little yawn. "I'm going to take a lie-down," she told him. "We can talk more later if you want."
She kissed the top of his head in passing, but then she had definitely passed, without any invitation to join her in word, look or gesture.
It occurred to Stan that his, uh, his possl-Q, as someone had once in his hearing called it, meaning "Person of Opposite Sex Sharing Living Quarters"—that his beloved, to put it in another way, and actually a way that he was still trying to get used to—that Estrella, to subsume all those things in a single name, sure was sleeping a lot lately. With as much wisdom as he had to bring to bear on the subject, Stan told himself that she was probably getting her period. It was a useful theory to Stan, since it might also account for her recent changeableness. Indeed, it was the kind of theory that spared Stan from having to try to guess reasons for those elements of female behavior which he had no hope of understanding.
Which seemed to be most of them.
In the course of these ruminations Stan had strolled out onto the lanai again. As before, those lovely meadows, woods and mica-topped hills were spread out before him. Which gave him an idea. He had been wanting to walk around down there, and why not now?
The first problem was the corkscrew ramp that had brought them to the apartment. He discovered at once that there was nothing conceptually challenging about it, just a lot of walking downhill until there was a door marked "exit." It didn't display that word in English, of course. What it showed was a squiggly, blue-lit arrow that Stan took to mean the same thing, and did.
Before him lay a wide and beautiful expanse—just like in Alice in Wonderland, he told himself, inhaling the warm, spicy air. There was a spring in his step that wasn't only due to the fact that this planet's gravity was almost ten percent less than Earth normal. Being there felt good. Underfoot a springy green and violet grass cushioned his step. All around him in the air were faint clouds of pinkish fluff, like the seed-carriers of cottonwood trees that he had read of on Earth, but had never seen. In the distant sky, away from the hilltops, were the remains of a dissipating rainbow.
It was, he agreed with himself, about the nicest place he had ever been in. Would have been nicer still, of course, if Estrella were strolling it with him. He would have liked pointing out to each other the leathery little bugs that peered out from clumps of the grass. Or the perky little flowers, that when he bent to see if they had a fragrance—
"Jesus," he said, rapidly straightening, because several of those pretty blooms had begun nibbling his hand.
It wasn't just that Estrella would have made this good thing even better by her presence. The long and short of it was she was just good to be around on any occasion. It occurred to Stan to wonder if he was in love with her. He had no reliable data on what being "in love" was like, and could only suppose that it was possible.
Which led him to ask the reciprocal question: Was Estrella in love with him?
The more Stan thought about it, the less sure he was of the answer. Why should she be? He wasn't protecting her from dangers, or solving life's recurring problems for her—if anything, Estrella was better at dealing with the world than he. He wasn't particularly good-looking. (Well, if that mattered, with those eyes, neither was she.) And he had to admit that he was certainly terribly young for her to take seriously—a mere teenager to her quite grown-up twenty-three. Or four. Or even more, because Estrella had never mentioned her exact age. That was quite a difference, even without considering the fact that, generally speaking, the man was supposed to be older than the girl.
Displeased by his thoughts, Stan kicked at one of the scurrying bugs and missed. He dropped to his knees, then rolled over onto his side. He stretched out on the warm turf, making sure that none of the carnivorous blossoms was nearby; he pillowed his head on his arm and closed his eyes.
He didn't know that he dozed, only that he was awakened by hard Heechee fingers shaking his shoulder.
Eyes open, he saw an unfamiliar face—Heechee, male, young, looking either angry or amused. The stranger was holding a sort of crystalline daisy in his free hand. He put it to Stan's ear, and it spoke to him: "Stan person! We search for you! Please immediately come. Achiever here already. Doctor Shrink soon to arrive. Request you here quickly, please." And then, as an afterthought, "This person speaking is Salt. Thank you. I thank you very much."
Achiever was there, all right, prowling critically around their rooms. So were two female Heechee, Salt and one Stan didn't recognize, and Estrella. Who took Stan's hand fondly enough to blur the memory of his recent worries and introduced him to the new female. "This is Delete," she said, and Salt chimed in:
"Old friend, Stan person. Also person of major skill in device's operation. Fortunately has excellent use of languages of your species as well."
Stan realized the new female was extending a bony hand to be shaken. "Glad to meet you," he said automatically, then winced as he felt Delete's grip. She didn't let go of his hand as, looking him straight in the eye, she addressed him:
"You were not present for briefing," she said. "Therefore I must repeat essence of it. First, operation of—I do not have the words—of communicating machine of wishes and fears will cause no long-lasting harm. This is known to be so from much experience, even of your species, with previous models. Second, interspecies use of same has not been attempted previously in this form, so possibility exists the first point does not apply. Third, in any case we proceed with procedure now."
That brought Estrella up short. "Hey! What's the hurry? Isn't Dr. von Shrink supposed to be here?"
"That is true," Salt agreed. "Is not known why he is not. In most cases he had been exhibiting promptness."
"Will surely present self quite soon," Delete informed them. "After which can make use of device in order to benefit"—she gave Achiever a cold glance—"this person here who possesses quite bad potential."
Achiever, who had been picking things up and setting them down again without paving any detectable attention to the others in the room, stopped long enough to give Delete a noticeably unpleasant look. Without taking his eyes off her he addressed Stan and Estrella: "Meaning of this wicked witch's statement is that I will no longer do undesirable things, do you understand her?"
"Maybe not," Stan said. "What kind of undesirable things?"
Achiever turned that baleful look on Stan. "I give you example. You wear garment. I like same garment. You go away and leave me with garment, I take garment and wear it, you not having given permission for same."