The reaction must be kindled, and he had no laser. Heedless of ricochet or shrapnel, he laid the automatic’s mouth, against the cock and pulled trigger. The bang and the belling came together. Alloy shattered, the bullet screamed free, the air tanks became a lamp.
Its flame was wan blue under the moon. Heim held the packboard steady with one hand and fanned with the other. “Please,” he called, “please, look this way, she’ll die if yon don’t.” A far-off part of him observed that he wept.
The fire flickered out. He bent near the pressure gauge, trying to read it in the unpitying moonlight. Zero. Finished.
No, wait, that was zero net. There were still three atmospheres absolute. And hydrogen diffused inward faster than oxygen did outward. Explosive mixture? He scrambled to put the bottles behind a large rock. Leaning across, he shot straight into them and threw himself down.
Flame blossomed anew, one fury and the crash toning away, whine of flying fragments, a grating among lesser stones as they sought new rest, nothingness. Heim got carefully up.
An infinite calm descended upon him. He had done what he could. Now it was only to wait, and live or die as the chance befell. He returned to Jocelyn, listened to her breath, and lay down beside her.
I ought to be in suspense, he thought vaguely. Fm not. Could my air be poisoned already?…
No, I should last an hour or so if I don’t move. I’m just… fulfilled, somehow. His eyes went to the moon, his thoughts to Connie. He had no belief in survival after death, but it was as if she had drawn close to him.
“Hi, there,” he whispered.
And—“Hai-i-i-i!” winded down the reaches of heaven, the air sang, and bat wings eclipsed the moon. Weapons flashed clear, the flock whirled around in their search for an enemy, fangs glittered, and devil shapes came to earth.
Only they didn’t act like devils, once they saw. A warrior bayed into the midget transceiver he carried. A vehicle from the Hurst descended within minutes. Her mother could not have raised Jocelyn more tenderly onto a stretcher and into the machine. Wolf-gray Wenilwain himself connected an oxygen bottle to Heim’s suit. The flyer lifted and lanced eastward for Orling.
“But… listen… jangir ketleth—” Heim desisted. His few pidgin phrases couldn’t explain about Endre and C.E. No matter, really. He’d soon be at the yacht; Wong could interpret via radio; the last survivors would be found no later than sunrise. Heim fell asleep smiling.
VIII
Her cabin was quiet. Someone had hung a new picture on the bulkhead where she could see it: a beach, probably on Tahiti. Waves came over a sapphire ocean to foam against white sands; in the foreground, palm trees nodded at Earth’s mild winds.
She laid down her book as the tall man entered. Color mounted in her face. “Gunnar,” she said very low. “You shouldn’t be up.”
“Our medic wants me on my back till we leave,” he said, “but the hell with him. At least, I had to come see you before you go. How’re you feeling?”
“All right. Still weak, of course, but Dr. Silva says I’m making a good recovery.”
“I know. I asked him. Enzyme therapy is a wonder, eh?” Heim searched for a phrase.
Nothing sufficed. “I’m glad.”
“Sit down, you idiot!”
He pulled the lounger close to her bed and lowered himself. Even in a flyer, the trip had left him lightheaded. Several days yet must pass before his vigor was restored. The gun at his hip caught on the adjuster console. He pulled it free with a muttered oath.
Amusement touched her lips. “You needn’t have brought that. Nobody’s going to kidnap you.”
“Well, hopefully not. Call it insurance.”
Her smile faded. “Are you that angry?”
“No. Two good men died, the rest of us went through a nasty time. I’m sorry it happened, but you can’t take an episode in a war to heart.”
Her look reminded him of a trapped small animal. “You could press charges of murder.”
“Good Lord!” he exclaimed. “What kind of swine do you take me for? We went out together on a field trip. Our engine failed, we made a crash landing where one man was killed, and hiked after help. If your people will stick by that story, mine will.”
A thin hand stole toward him. He took it and did not let go. Her hazel eyes caught him in turn. Silence grew.
When he could hold out no more, and still lacked meaningful words, he said, “You’re hauling mass at dawn, right?”
“Yes. The scientists—those who thought this was a genuine trip—they want to stay. But Captain Gutierrez overruled them. We’ve lost our purpose.” Quickly: “How long will you remain?”
“About another Earth week, till the new missile units are fitted. To be sure, we’ll lose time getting out of the planetary. system. The Lodge has to escort us, and won’t let us arm our warheads till we’re beyond defensive limits. But still, I figure we’ll be on the move inside of ten days.”
Again muteness, while they looked at each other, and away, and back. “What do you plan on doing at home?” he tried.
“Wait for you,” she said. “Pray for you.”
“But—no, look, your, uh, your political work—”
“That’s no longer relevant. I haven’t changed my mind—or have I? It’s hard to tell.” Her free hand rubbed her forehead confusedly. The motion stirred her hair, awakening light in the chestnut tresses. “I don’t think I was wrong in principle,” she said after a bit. “Maybe I was in practice. But it doesn’t matter any more. You see, you’ve changed the universe. Earth is committed.”
“Nonsense!” His face smoldered. “One ship?”
“With you her captain, Gunnar.”
“Thanks, but… but you flatter me and—Wait, Joss, you do have a job. Sentiment at home might swing too far in the other direction. The last thing any sane person wants is a jehad. You keep telling ’em the enemy is not too evil to live. Remind ’em there’ll be peace negotiations eventually, and the more reasonable we are then, the more likely the peace is to last. Okay?”
He saw that she braced herself. “You’re right, and I’ll do my poor best,” she said. “But talking politics is only an evasion.”
“What do you mean?” he stalled.
Her mouth quirked afresh. “Why, Gunnar, I do believe you’re scared.”
“No, no, nothing of the sort You need rest. I’d better go.”
“Sit,” she commanded. Her fingers closed about his palm.
The touch was light, but it would have been easier to break free of a ship grapple.
Red and white chased each other across her countenance. “I have to explain,” she said with, astounding steadiness. “About what happened earlier.”
His skin prickled.
“Yes, I hoped to persuade you not to fight,” she said. “But I learned more was involved.
Infinitely more.”
“Uh, uh—the past, sure—”
“When you come back,” she asked, “what are you going to do?”
“Live quietly.”
“Ha! I’d like to make book on that. For a while, though, you will be home on Earth.” Her tone dropped. “Oh, God, you must.” She raised her head. “I’ll be there too.”
He must summon so much will to speak that none was left for holding his eyes off the deck.
“Joss,” he said, word by word, “you remember too many things. So do I. There was that chance once, which we did better to pass up. Then we met again, both free, both lonesome, and I admit I also thought the chance might have come again. Only it hadn’t. Time switched the dice on us.”