If I bumped into something enormous and steel-hided my heart had orders to stop beating immediately and release me--to dart fitfully forever along Acheron, and gibbering.
Ungibbering, I made it to green water and fled back to the nest.
As soon as they hauled me aboard I made my mask a necklace, shaded my eyes, and monitored for surface turbulence. My first question, of course, was "Where is he?"
"Nowhere," said a crewman; "we lost him right after you went over. Can't pick him up on the scope now. Musta dived."
"Too bad."
The squiggler stayed down, enjoying its bath. My job ended for the time being, I headed back to warm my coffee with rum.
From behind me, a whisper: "Could you laugh like that afterwards?"
Perceptive Answer: "Depends on what he's laughing at."
Still chuckling, I made my way into the center blister with two cupfuls.
"Still hell and gone?"
Mike nodded. His big hands were shaking, and mine were steady as a surgeon's when I set down the cups.
He jumped as I shrugged off the tanks and looked for a bench.
"Don't drip on that panel! You want to kill yourself and blow expensive fuses?"
I toweled down, then settled down to watching the unfilled eye on the wall. I yawned happily; my shoulder seemed good as new.
The little box that people talk through wanted to say something, so Mike lifted the switch and told it to go ahead.
"Is Carl there, Mister Dabis?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then let me talk to him."
Mike motioned and I moved.
"Talk," I said.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes, thanks. Shouldn't I be?"
"That was a long swim. I--I guess I overshot my cast."
"I'm happy," I said. "More triple-time for me. I really clean up on that hazardous duty clause."
"I'll be more careful next time," she apologized. "I guess I was too eager. Sorry--" Something happened to the sentence, so she ended it there, leaving me with half a bagful of replies I'd been saving.
I lifted the cigarette from behind Mike's ear and got a light from the one in the ashtray.
"Carl, she was being nice," he said, after turning to study the panels.
"I know," I told him. "I wasn't."
"I mean, she's an awfully pretty kid, pleasant. Headstrong and all that. But what's she done to you?"
"Lately?" I asked.
He looked at me, then dropped his eyes to his cup.
"I know it's none of my bus--" he began.
"Cream and sugar?"
Ikky didn't return that day, or that night. We picked up some Dixieland out of Lifeline and let the muskrat ramble while Jean had her supper sent to the Slider. Later she had a bunk assembled inside. I piped in "Deep Water Blues" when it came over the air and waited for her to call up and cuss us out. She didn't though, so I decided she was sleeping.
Then I got Mike interested in a game of chess that went on until daylight. It limited conversation to several "checks," one "checkmate," and a "damn!" Since he's a poor loser it also effectively sabotaged subsequent talk, which was fine with me. I had a steak and fried potatoes for breakfast and went to bed.
Ten hours later someone shook me awake and I propped myself on one elbow, refusing to open my eyes.
"Whassamadder?"
"I'm sorry to get you up," said one of the younger crewmen, "but Miss Luharich wants you to disconnect the squiggler so we can move on."
I knuckled open one eye, still deciding whether I should be amused.
"Have it hauled to the side. Anyone can disconnect it."
"It's at the side now, sir. But she said it's in your contract and we'd better do things right."
"That's very considerate of her. I'm sure my Local appreciates her remembering."
"Uh, she also said to tell you to change your trunks and comb your hair, and shave, too. Mister Anderson's going to film it."
"Okay. Run along; tell her I'm on my way--and ask if she has some toenail polish I can borrow."
I'll save on details. It took three minutes in all, and I played it properly, even pardoning myself when I slipped and bumped into Anderson's white tropicals with the wet squiggler. He smiled, brushed it off; she smiled, even though Luharich Complectacolor couldn't completely mask the dark circles under her eyes; and I smiled, waving to all our fans out there in videoland. --Remember, Mrs. Universe, you, too, can look like a monster-catcher. Just use Luharich face cream.
I went below and made myself a tuna sandwich, with mayonnaise.
Two days like icebergs--bleak, blank, half-melting, all frigid, mainly out of sight, and definitely a threat to peace of mind--drifted by and were good to put behind. I experienced some old guilt feelings and had a few disturbing dreams. Then I called Lifeline and checked my bank balance.
"Going shopping?" asked Mike, who had put the call through for me.
"Going home," I answered.
"Huh?"
"I'm out of the baiting business after this one, Mike. The Devil with Ikky! The Devil with Venus and Luharich Enterprises! And the Devil with you!"
Up eyebrows.
"What brought that on?"
"I waited over a year for this job. Now that I'm here, I've decided the whole thing stinks."
"You knew what it was when you signed on. No matter what else you're doing, you're selling face cream when you work for face cream sellers."
"Oh, that's not what's biting me. I admit the commercial angle irritates me, but Tensquare has always been a publicity spot, ever since the first time it sailed."
"What, then?"
"Five or six things, all added up. The main one being that I don't care any more. Once it meant more to me than anything else to hook that critter, and now it doesn't. I went broke on what started out as a lark and I wanted blood for what it had cost me. Now I realize that maybe I had it coming. I'm beginning to feel sorry for Ikky."
"And you don't want him now?"
"I'll take him if he comes peacefully, but I don't feel like sticking out my neck to make him crawl into the Hopkins."
"I'm inclined to think it's one of the four or five other things you said you added."
"Such as?"
He scrutinized the ceiling.
I growled.
"Okay, but I won't say it, not just to make you happy you guessed right."
He, smirking: "That look she wears isn't just for Ikky."
"No good, no good." I shook my head. "We're both fission chambers by nature. You can't have jets on both ends of the rocket and expect to go anywhere--what's in the middle just gets smashed."
"That's how it _was_. None of my business, of course--"
"Say that again and you'll say it without teeth."
"Any day, big man"--he looked up--"any place..."
"So go ahead. Get it said!"
"She doesn't care about that bloody reptile, she came here to drag you back where you belong. You're not the baitman this trip."
"Five years is too long."
"There must be something under that cruddy hide of yours that people like," he muttered, "or I wouldn't be talking like this. Maybe you remind us humans of some really ugly dog we felt sorry for when we were kids. Anyhow, someone wants to take you home and raise you--also, something about beggars not getting menus."
"Buddy," I chuckled, "do you know what I'm going to do when I hit Lifeline?"
"I can guess."
"You're wrong. I'm torching it to Mars, and then I'll cruise back home, first class. Venus bankruptcy provisions do not apply to Martian trust funds, and I've still got a wad tucked away where moth and corruption enter not. I'm going to pick up a big old mansion on the Gulf and if you're ever looking for a job you can stop around and open bottles for me."