“Men are evil, men destroyed…”
“Her, Maris,” Brandy whispered. “They destroyed her.”
The smile wavered. “Something more we have in common.” His false arm pressed his side.
The golden eye regarded him. “Cyborg.”
He sighed, went to the door. Brandy stood to meet him, Nilgiri huddled silently at her feet, staring up.
“Nilgiri.” The voice was full of pain; they looked back. “How can I forgive myself for what I’ve done? I will never, never do such a thing again… never. Please, go to the infirmary; let me help you.”
Slowly, with Brandy’s help, Nilgiri got to her feet. “All right. It’s all right, Mactav. I’ll go on down now.”
“Giri, do you want us—”
Nilgiri shook her head, hands curled in front of her. “No, Brandy, it’s okay. She’s all right now. Me too—I think.” Her smile quivered. “Ouch…” She started down the corridor toward the lift.
“Branduin, Maris, I apologize also to you. I’m—not usually like this, you know…” Amber faded from her eye.
“Is she gone?”
Brandy nodded.
“That’s the first bigoted computer I ever met.”
And she remembered. “Your hand?”
Smiling, he held it out to her. “No harm; see? It’s a nonconductor.”
She shivered. Hands cradled the hand that ached to feel. “Mactav really isn’t like that, you know. But something’s been wrong lately, she gets into moods; we’ll have to have her looked at when we get to Sanalareta.”
“Isn’t it dangerous?”
“I don’t think so—not really. It’s just that she has special problems; she’s in there because she didn’t have any choice, a strife-based culture killed her ship. She was very young, but that was all that was left of her.”
“A high technology.” A grimace; memory moved in his eyes.
“They were terribly apologetic, they did their best.”
“What happened to them?”
“We cut contact—that’s regulation number one. We have to protect ourselves.”
He nodded, looking away. “Will they ever go back?”
“I don’t know. Maybe, someday.” She leaned against the doorway. “But that’s why Mactav hates men; men, and war—and combined with the old taboo… I guess her memory suppressors weren’t enough.”
Nilgiri reappeared beside them. “All better.” Her hands were bright pink. “Ready for anything!”
“How’s Mactav acting?”
“Super-solicitous. She’s still pretty upset about it, I guess.”
Light flickered at the curving junctures of the walls, ceiling, floor. Maris glanced up. “Hell, it’s getting dark outside. I expect I’d better be leaving; nearly time to open up. One last night on the town?” Nilgiri grinned and nodded; he saw Brandy hesitate.
“Maybe I’d better stay with Mactav tonight, if she’s still upset. She’s got to be ready to go up tomorrow.” Almost-guilt firmed resolution on her face.
“Well… I could stay, if you think…” Nilgiri looked unhappy.
“No. It’s my fault she’s like this; I’ll do it. Besides, I’ve been out having a fantastic day, I’d be too tired to do it right tonight. You go on in. Thank you, Maris! I wish it wasn’t over so soon.” She turned back to him, beginning to put her hair into braids; quicksilver shone.
“The pleasure was all mine.” The tight sense of loss dissolved in warmth. “I can’t remember a better one either… or more exciting…” He grimaced.
She smiled and took his hands; Nilgiri glanced back and forth between them. “I’ll see you to the lock.”
Nilgiri climbed down through the glow to the waiting flyer. Maris braced back from the top rung to watch Brandy’s face, bearing a strange expression, look down through whipping strands of loose hair. “Goodbye, Maris.”
“Goodbye, Brandy.”
“It was a short two weeks, you know?”
“I know.”
“I like New Piraeus better than anywhere; I don’t know why.”
“I hope it won’t be too different when you get back.”
“Me too… See you in three years?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Oh, yeah. Time passes so quickly when you’re having fun—” Almost true, almost not. A smile flowered.
“Write while you’re away. Poems, that is.” He began to climb down, slowly.
“I will… Hey, my stuff is at—”
“I’ll send it back with Nilgiri.” He settled behind the controls; the flyer grew bright and began to rise. He waved; so did Nilgiri. He watched her wave back, watched her in his mirror until she became the vast and gleaming pearl that was the What Got Her—709. And felt the gap that widened between their lives, more than distance, more than time.
“Well, now that you’ve seen it, what do you think?”
Late afternoon, first day, fourth visit, seventy-fifth year… mentally he tallied. Brandy stood looking into the kitchen. “It’s—different.”
“I know. It’s still too new; I miss the old wood beams. They were rotting, but I miss them. Sometimes I wake up in the morning and don’t know where I am. But I was losing my canyon.”
She looked back at him, surprising him with her misery. “Oh… At least they won’t reach you for a long time, out here.”
“We can’t walk home any more, though.”
“No.” She turned away again. “All—all your furniture is built in?”
“Um. It’s supposed to last as long as the house.”
“What if you get tired of it?”
He laughed. “As long as it holds me up, I don’t care what it looks like. One thing I like, though.” He pressed a plate on the wall, looking up. “The roof is polarized. Like your ship. At night you can watch the stars.”
“Oh!” She looked up and back, he watched her mind pierce the high cloud-fog, pierce the day, to find stars. “How wonderful! I’ve never seen it anywhere else.”
It had been his idea, thinking of her. He smiled.
“They must really be growing out here, to be doing things like this now.” She tried the cushions of a molded chair.
“Hmm…”
“They’re up to two and a half already, they actually do a few things besides mining now. The Inside is catching up, if they can bring us this without a loss. I may even live to see the day when we’ll be importing raw materials, instead of filling everyone else’s mined-out guts. If there’s anything left of Oro by then…”
“Would you stay to see that?”
“I don’t know.” He looked at her. “It depends. Anyway, tell me about this trip.” He stretched out on the chain-hung wall seat. “You know everything that’s new with me already: one house.” And waited for far glory to rise up in her eyes.
They flickered down, stayed the color of fog. “Well—some good news, and some bad news, I guess.”
“Like how?” Feeling suddenly cold.
“Good news”—her smile warmed him—“I’ll be staying nearly a month this time. We’ll have more time to—do things, if you want to.”
“How did you manage that?” He sat up.
“That’s more good news. I have a chance to crew on a different ship, to get out of the Quadrangle and see things I’ve only dreamed of, new worlds—”
“And the bad news is how long you’ll be gone.”
“Yes.”
“How many years?”
“It’s an extended voyage, following up trade contacts; if we’re lucky, we might be back in the stellar neighborhood in thirty-five years… thirty-five years tau—more than two hundred, here. If we’re not so lucky, maybe we won’t be back this way at all.”
“I see.” He stared unblinking at the floor, hands knotted between his knees. “It’s—an incredible opportunity, all right… especially for your poetry. I envy you. But I’ll miss you.”