"Stock run!" she said finally. "D'you realize, Helva, I'm the same ethnic group, too? Those pieces of life are the children of people like me. Only unlike me. Because they have left seed and I have none."
"Don't be ridiculous," Helva snapped, hoping to ward off a Kiran explosion. "You made your RCA duty when you reached your majority, didn't you?"
"No," Kira snapped back. "No. I didn't. I had met Thorn by then and I was going to have all my children. I didn't need any agency to insure the propagation of those chromosomes that are essentially Kira Faleraova Mirsky of Canopus. As a matter of fact," she said sardonically, "I even wrote a Dylan on the RCA, full of wit and drollery, with candid cracks about the uncanned child."
She swung the chair around to face Helva, her eyes narrowed in self-contempt.
"One of the many items my so-censored biograph left out was that my only child died a-borning, from his mother's womb untimely ripped, ripping it and rendering her completely barren."
Kira spanned her tiny hips with slender hands. "No life in these loins, ever. . . not implanted nor impregnated. No nothing of Thorn or all we had together. That," and she snapped her fingers, "for our supreme egotistical self-assurance."
It was for such accidents that the RCA recommended seed donations from every young adult. It was pointless to remind Kira of this. She was all too patently aware of her folly.
"That's why I returned to medicine after Thorn's death rather than the Service. But all my studies proved that there was no rebirth in me nor birth for me. Science can do many wonders, make many adjustments, but not that."
She sighed heavily but her bitterness was not as frantic as that first explosion. Helva wondered if Kira had resigned herself to barrenness as she had not, from appearances, resigned herself to living.
"Which is why, dear Helva, it is ironic for me, of all people, to be assisting this particular cargo around the Great Wheel."
Helva refrained from any remarks. Kira finished her coffee and retired to rest. Within a few hours there would be Merak to deal with, then on to Alioth.
They cleared Merak in record time, the technicians being both quick and careful. Alioth was only a few days onward before the last spatial hop to Nekkar. Scout and ship had now achieved a pleasant routine in which Helva filled gaps in her classical and ancient musical repertoire with Kira's comprehensive acquaintance with folk music from old Terra and the early colonial periods of the now major worlds.
Helva woke Kira just before touchdown on Alioth. The scout dressed quickly in a somber tunic, braiding her hair so closely to her scalp Helva wondered her head didn't ache.
Touchdown was not auspicious. To begin with, the spaceport was overshadowed by the jagged, glowing peaks of Alioth's active continental spine. They were told to touch down some distance from the small rectangular building that housed what spaceport control and administration the inhospitable planet required. Kira protested they were too far from the building to effect a quick transfer and was brusquely informed she was to await the arrival of a ground vehicle. It took its time in arriving, a huge transport truck loaded with cowled figures who took positions around Helva's base, elbow to elbow. Their belligerent attitude and presence seemed an insult to a ship bearing Helva's markings.
"What is the meaning of mounting a guard on a Scout Ship in Central Worlds Medical Service?" Kira demanded in firm tones to the control tower.
"For the protection of your cargo."
At this moment the charge officer of the guard contingent requested permission to enter the scout ship.
"Well?" Helva asked softly of Kira.
"I don't see we have much choice but I suggest you tape this and tight beam it back to Regulus."
"My thought, too," Helva agreed. "And I think I'll play silent."
"A good idea," Kira said, adjusting a contact button on her cloak.
There were many backward planets where the partnership of the mobile brawn scout and his brain ship were improperly understood. On such worlds it often had been to the advantage of the partners to keep the brain's abilities unknown until needed, if needed. The button would allow Helva to keep in sight and sound contact with Kira.
The officer, an ominous, tall figure in his black cowl, appeared at the airlock, which Helva opened. The man, his face unseen, towered above Kira. A thin hand was extruded from the draperies and made a gesture toward breast and hidden face that could be interpreted as a salute of sorts.
Kira responded in kind, waiting for him to speak first.
"Second Watch officer Noneth," he finally intoned.
"Medical Scout Kira of Canopus," Kira replied with dignity. Helva did not fail to note that the girl clung to her planetary designation, rather than a ship-partner identity as KH-834.
"Your presence is required at High Temple to discuss the donation," Noneth said in hollow, measured tones.
"Time is of the essence in a transfer of this nature," Kira began smoothly.
"Time," intoned the officer, "is at the disposal of Him Who Orders. It is at his command you are to come."
"The seed is ready for shipment?" Kira asked, insistent on some information.
A shudder rippled the fabric surrounding the figure of Noneth.
"Do not blaspheme."
"Unintentional, I assure you," Kira said, calmly refusing to offer further apology.
"Come," ordered the officer in a voice of command that crackled with authority.
"He Who Orders bids you come, woman," a sepulchral, harsh voice echoed shrilly through the tiny cabin.
Kira won another mark of respect from Helva when she gave no indication of surprise at that awesome bellow. The scout's eyes flicked briefly over the smooth oval fastening on Noneth's hood. Helva as well as Kira recognized the device for what it was, a two-way control similar to the one Kira wore. A type issued only to Service personnel.
There'd be a nova of a scandal when Central Worlds discovered who was distributing these restricted designs on backward planets.
"The order must be obeyed. The Temple itself has spoken," Noneth cried in a voice quavering with reverence. "Dally not."
The Temple was feminine, Helva realized, having appraised the timbre of the voice.
"I am under orders," Kira said evasively.
"That is the Eternal Truth," Noneth replied, nodding solemn accord, as Kira apparently responded in a manner consonant with his religion. He raised his hand in a stylized gesture and added, "May Death come to you at the moment of your triumph."
Kira, about to make a graceful obeisance, halted and stared up at the hidden face, her eyes wide with shock.
"May Death come to you at the moment of your triumph?" she murmured. The blood drained from her face.
"Is not Death the greatest of blessings?" asked the priest, mildly surprised at her ignorance.
It was all Helva could do to remain silent but a deep instinct stifled her half-formed groan of protest. It took little extra interpolation to surmise that death on Alioth would be the greatest of blessings: relief from the terrible drudgery, the grim and gloomy aspect of the planet, with its hovering, smoking mountains. The normal perils of molten mining plus the daily anxiety of a volcano emerging and erupting underfoot had emphasized the brevity of existence until the emphasis had swung toward death as a welcome respite from grinding toil and miserable conditions. Was Cencom out of its alleged mind when it did not ban Kira from landing on Alioth, knowing her compulsion? She wouldn't even have to strain against her conditioning.
"Yes, Death is the greatest of blessings. That is Eternal Truth," Kira repeated, trancelike.