Davo and Kurla had willingly read additional parts, Davo with an insight to the minor characters that wrung mute respect from Helva and generous thanks from Prane. Kurla rose to the challenge of Lady Montague. Ansra's Juliet became less and less convincing. She was 'reading', not acting, certainly not reacting to the passion, the youthful enthusiasm and tender passion of Prane's Romeo. She was wooden. The voice was youthful, the gestures girlish, but she resisted every effort of Prane's to draw out of her that quality he wanted Juliet to project.
None of this was obvious from the even tone of his courteous suggestions, but it was most apparent to the others. And to Helva, Ansra's behavior was doubly inexcusable.
Once Helva had withdrawn, Kurla announced that it was time to eat a hot decent meal. She then insisted that they all get some sleep. Helva watched surreptitiously as Kurla ran a quick medical check on Prane. She, too, was amazed that the Solar was in remarkably strong vigor after such an intense and long rehearsal.
"You've got to rest, Solar Prane. I don't care what the recorder says. You can't put forth the energy you did today without replenishing it in sleep," Kurla said firmly. "I'm tired! And you've another planetfall to make."
He made a boyish grimace but lay back on the shock-mattress, his eyes closed, one hand on his chest.
Tenderly Kurla covered his long, lax body. She turned abruptly and let her motion carry her quickly from the cabin. Prane's eyes flew open and the look in his eyes was almost more than Helva could morally observe. So Kurla was indeed the sun of Prane's regard and Ansra, the envious moon, already sick and pale with grief. . .
Helva was overwhelmingly relieved that she'd be out of this affair in a scant day's time. And yet, Ansra had been indiscreet enough to hint at action more vengeful than envious. Would the fact that she now knew Helva was no automaton inhibit her plans?
The passengers began to sleep. All, that is, except Prane. He began Richard III, with Gloucester's "Now is the winter of our discontent" to Richmond's "Peace lives again: That she may long live here, God say amen!" Considering the day's proceedings Helva thought that choice of sleep-conjuring all too appropriate. If mindtrap produced such perfect recall. . .
Sometime toward dawn of that day, Helva remembered a detail, and berating herself for incredible obtuseness, contacted Regulus on the tight beam.
"Good to hear your voice, Helva," Central Com responded with marked affability.
"I distrust such geniality from you. What is being cooked up for me? Not another brawnless assignment, because I'll refuse it, I've got rights and I'll invoke 'em."
"My, we're touchy. How can you be so suspicious? And so crass?"
"So you'll know exactly how I stand. Now listen to me, is there a free accommodation, no, make it a suite. . . on the Orbital Station in the free-fall section?"
"I'll check, but why?"
"Check and answer."
"Aye-firmative."
"Great, I request that it be assigned Solar Prane and such of his company as accept. We've been running in free-fall, in preparation for their assignment and they ought not to have a readjust to full-grav."
"Good suggestion. But doesn't such an assignment tempt you, Helva?"
"Don't use that wheedling tone with me, Central."
"When you obviously have taken their welfare to heart enough to request orbital accommodations for Solar Prane?"
Helva caught herself. She mustn't sound so concerned.
"I was raised to be considerate. Just seems a shame to set back the progress they've made in freefall adjustment."
"No problem, Helva. This Beta Corvi mission has topmost priority."
"Say, I'm curious about this psyche transfer bit. . ."
"Hold it, gal. Ask me no questions, since you've made it so plain where you stand."
"Okay, I'll stand off, but I think it's petty of you," and she closed the tight beam.
Until her passengers awoke, Helva pondered Central's comments. They wanted her for this. Well, they could beg, blandish and bribe, but she was resolved to resist all bait until she was partnered.
She did not bother to inform any of her passengers of her sub-light arrangements with Central, but connected with the proper hatch at the Orbital Station as if this had been her programmed destination. Regulus IV swam beneath them, brilliant in the reflection of it's primary.
"We were told we'd be landing at Regulus Base," Ansra protested as she looked into the lock of the Station. She glared threateningly at the startled lock attendant, drifting midportal.
"Free-fall?" Davo exclaimed. "I'd rather stay here."
"This is ridiculous," Ansra went on, directing herself to the confused attendant. "I demand to be taken to the Base. I demand to see the official in charge of this assignment."
"The XH-834 is scheduled to land at Base as soon as she has discharged her passengers here, Miss Colmer," the man said placatingly.
"If you will move into the main cabin, Miss Colmer, I can close the locks now," Helva said, for Prane and Kurla had pushed into the Station lock.
Ducking around Ansra, the attendant sent the luggage, piled in the lock, spinning stationward. As soon as he was clear, Helva closed her outer portal. Ansra was forced to step inside.
"Just wait till I report you, you. . . you. . ."
"Thing? Informer? Abomination? Fink?" Helva tendered helpfully.
"I'll have you decommissioned, you tin-plated bitch!"
Just then, Helva applied thrust sufficient to send Ansra, accustomed to free-fall, reeling backward into the nearby couch. And kept her there, cursing steadily and viciously, all through reentry and touchdown.
"You'll regret that insolence, too, you bodiless Bernhardt," was Ansra's parting taunt as she staggered to the passenger lift.
"Sorry you had trouble enduring standard reentry maneuvers, Miss Colmer. You were advised to remain on the Station," Helva boomed on her exterior speaker for the benefit of the vehicle waiting to take the woman the short distance to the Maul Administration Complex before which Helva had landed.
"Hey, Helva, what did you do to that Colmer creature?" Central Com asked her on the private beam a little while later. "If you weren't in good odor with the powers-that-preside, you'd be in for an official reprimand and a fine. She's got some good friends in high places, you know."
"So that's how she got this assignment."
"Hey, gal, I'm on your side, but that kind of remark. . ."
"If I wanted to be nasty, I'd play back some of the honest-to-goodness, unexpurgated, uncensored deathless moments of my most recent trip through the vacuum of outer space."
"Like, for instance?"
"I said, if I wanted to be nasty." She cut the contact and looked around for more sympathetic company.
Crowding the Administration landing acres were no less than 20 brain ships. A veritable convention? Old home week? She spotted Amon, right up in the front row with five of her own class. When she tried to signal the VL-830, she couldn't get through. In fact, she couldn't get a line in to any of her peers. The ship-to-ship frequencies were overloaded.
Was everyone aspiring to that damned Beta Corvi assignment? She ought to warn *em off. She called the traffic tower to ask for another landing slot, preferably nearer the brawn barracks. There must be other ships on the 20 kilometers-square base interested in chatting with her.
"So nice to hear from you," Cencom cut in over Traffic Control. "Orders are for you to stay put, loudmouth."
"Can I at least have some company? From the brawn barracks? Remember? I was promised a brawn this time. And this time I'd better get one. If you knew what this poor lone female, totally unprotected from. . ."