"Hey, don't gawk, girl. Come on in and take your chances with the rest of us," someone encouraged her.
"She's not competition, brawns," Helva sang out. "Let her through to the pilot's cabin."
Kurla raised one hand as if to protest, her face reflecting confusion and embarrassment. Before she could verbalize, she was pushed through the crowd and into the cabin.
"Nothing's happened to the Solar, Kurla?" Helva asked, the moment the door shut on the noise.
Relief washed away the uncertainty as Kurla cried, "You do care about him."
"I respect Solar Prane as an artist and as a human being," Helva replied, choosing her words carefully, wondering if Parollan were behind this visit.
"Then why did you refuse the assignment when he specifically asked for you?" There was a shrill note to the girl's voice, although she was trying hard to speak evenly.
"I have not refused the assignment."
Kurla's lips tightened angrily. "Then Ansra Colmer has been able to keep your name off."
"I don't know anything about that, Kurla. I have been approached. . . unofficially. . . and I was very flattered that Solar Prane asked for me. But I have also made it plain. . . unofficially. . . that I do not want another assignment with a temporary brawn."
"I don't understand. I thought it was interference from Colmer. That you didn't realize he wanted you. Don't you realize there's not another ship that even knows who Shakespeare was, much less quotes him on cue? And he thought you might even like to play the Nurse. He was honestly impressed with your reading on the way here. Why, you're so perfect, it's like an answer to an impossibility. And he's got to have the very best there is. It's got to be perfect. . . she fought to control her voice, "It's just got to be perfect."
"Because it's the end for him?"
Kurla seemed to crumple in on herself and sagged against the bulkhead, unbidden tears in her eyes.
"God spare me a woman's tears," Helva said, angry and annoyed. "So it's his swan song and you've decided that I'm the ship to sing it?"
"Please. . . if you've a gram of humanity in you. . . " Kurla covered her tactless mouth with both hands, her eyes wide.
"Actually, about 22 kilos of me is very human, Kurla. . ."
"Oh, Helva, I'm so sorry," she stammered. "I'm so sorry. I had no right to come here. I'm sorry. I thought if I could just explain. . ."
Awkwardly she got to her feet, her muscles straining.
"I'd appreciate it if you'd forget I came here," Kurla went on in a very stiff, formal voice, fumbling for the door release. "It is always a mistake to act on impulse."
"Is it true that not one of the others knows Shakespeare?"
"I wouldn't demean myself with lies."
"So Ansra is making it very difficult."
The pride seemed to drain out of Kurla and she leaned her head wearily against the door for a moment, defeat showing in every curve of her slender body.
"She implies the most despicable things about him. She's said. . . never mind. But she is undermining him with the rest of the cast. And. . . and Helva, I don't trust her."
"Then have her replaced, you little idiot."
"Me? What could I do? I'm a medical attendant."
"Kurla, the man's dying. You can't be deluding yourself about that. . ."
"No. That's the one delusion I don't have." Something seemed to pull the girl erect then. "I just don't want him cheated out of this last perfect performance. His acting is all he has left and he's so good at it."
"You've influence with him, though. Get him to replace Ansra."
Kurla shook her head sadly. "He won't because he believes that she's the best Juliet available so he'll put up with her. . . temperament. And. . ." Kurla hesitated, the struggle with honesty apparent in her expressive face, "she was, when they rehearsed back at Duhr. Then. . . she changed. Overnight. Prane won't do anything. And she'll destroy him, Helva. I know it. Somehow she'll destroy him."
"Not while I've got my eye on her, she won't," Helva replied firmly.
The speed with which Chadress Turo arrived afterward struck Helva as suspicious, but she knew Kurla's visit had not been planned by Parollan. And she liked Chadress. He could not have been retired very long, for his step was springy and an old, unaltered shipsuit outlined a strong, muscular body. He wore a clutch of achievement stars but no honors, which meant he had plenty but was no braggart.
"Welcome board, Chadress Turo of Marak. It's nice to have a partner, however briefly."
Chadress caught the caustic undertone. "Hope I'm not the cause of your regrets?"
"No. You're the first happy face I've seen in the last two hours."
His eyes twinkled. "You've been put into Coventry by the brains and I had to be smuggled aboard to avoid outraged brawns. Oh, they'll all forget their pique. They always do. However, officially, you're in very good odor. Supervisor Parollan is taking personal credit for convincing you to accept. . ."
"The nerve of that pipsqueak. . ."
"I thought so," laughed Chadress. "Well, no matter. I'm not the only one who thought you'd be the only ship to do the job right and I've only rumors. . . and legends. . . to go by. But it's going to be a tricky mission with so much at stake, and so many explosive. . ."
"Personalities?"
Chadress laughed. "I've met many actors, I'm a classic buff myself, that's why I was called back. . ." he paused, his eyes seeing a middle distance, a slight frown on his face. "In fact, I leaped at the opportunity. Some of us should be allowed to die in harness. No matter. Here's the mission tape," and he dropped it in the slot. Before he touched the playback switch, he closed the lock and turned off all but the console audio. Then he eased into the pilot's chair and settled himself to listen.
Helva was amazed at how much of the tape's information she knew. The Nekkarese com man had had most of it correct.
A survey ship on a routine mission had intercepted pulsed energy emissions of tremendous power near Beta Corvi. They tracked the emissions to the sixth planet, a methane-ammonia giant, and assumed an orbit. Before they could prepare probes for exploration in such a corrosive atmosphere, they were contacted by the Corviki.
"It felt like pressure, as if a giant hand were covering my head and pressing knowledge into my brain," was the taped comment of the survey ship captain.
The unusual form of communication was nevertheless precise enough for the Corviki to grasp the nature of their unexpected visitors and to discover a commodity which they, unimaginably sophisticated scientifically, wanted.
"I guess the best analogy," the captain of the ship went on, "is that of the pure researcher who has devoted half a century to an intensive study of some esoteric subject. He masters it and finally has time to look around him and discovers that other things exist. . . like girls," the captain snickered, "and sex. He understands the theory but not the application, and he sure wants to learn."
Romeo and Juliet was a sample of the merchandise that had aroused the Corviki curiosity. If acceptable, the human company would teach understudies the full play, with movement adapted for the free-fall condition of Beta Corvi. Payment would be the Corviki process of stabilizing certain isotopes in the transuranian group whose power potential was unrealizable due to an exceedingly short half-life. Central Worlds badly needed such a process and the XH-834 was to ensure the success of this dramatic mission.
"Well, we'll give it the old home-world try," Helva said.