He smiled, embarrassed. "Well, this synthetic food keeps you alive—but I really could use something better," he admitted.
"Oh, Jen! I'm so sorry. I should have thought. Tell you what," she said, nodding. "Org Rider's cooking up something right now out of the stuff we had sent up in the drone. Why don't you come have dinner with us tonight? It's nothing fancy—but a lot better than the synthetic stuff, and you look as if you could use a square meal!"
Zara and Org Rider's compartments were no more elaborate than Babylon's own, if a trifle larger—they had three separate rooms, while he had only one. But they had made them their own. On one wall was a replica of the great picture of Knife-in-the-Sky mountain that Babylon had seen before—in Pertin's room? Somewhere. On another a moving holo of the temple by the lake, with luminous clouds scudding overhead and gentle wavelets on the water. There were personal trophies fixed to every wall—a bow and a quiver of arrows, a great rough diamond Zara had found lying at the edge of a stream, a small holo of a winged creature, slim fishlike shape of bronze and silver. Strange thing to keep! Babylon thought, but only with the outer fringes of his mind, for most of his consciousness was terribly focused on the marvelous, rich, hot, savory smells that were coming from the corner where Org Rider was tending their meal. "Pity I have to use resistance heat," he said over his shoulder, turning the huge chunk of meat on its spit. "It's much better over an open fire! Puffballs and fire-tree wood, nothing better to give the meat a taste! But Zara won't let me." In a heap in the waste receptacle was the refuse of the meal; it had started as a sort of immense grub, and Org Rider had expertly split its shell and popped the round, raw meat out of it while Babylon watched, repelled and fascinated. They were going to offer him roast bug for dinner! But as soon as it began to cook all those thoughts were dispelled.
And the reality was even better than the expectation. The roast creature was delicious, and with it was a sort of puree of what had started out as leaves and roots but tasted like delicate fresh garden produce, and fruits and nuts of a dozen kinds for dessert. For the first time since he arrived on the Cuckoo orbiter, Jen Babylon felt as if he had not merely refueled but dined. Org Rider accepted his compliments complacently. "Just plain hunting fare," he protested. "We ate this way all the time when I was a boy— when we ate at all," he added, laughing. "I don't want you to think it was heaven! But we did have freedom, and a chance to roam the world—that very huge world down there, which none of us could use up if we lived a thousand years. And then, when I got my org—" He looked sadly and affectionately at the holo of the winged creature. "You don't know what that meant in the life of a young man of my tribe, Jenbabylon."
"It does sound a little like heaven," Babylon commented. "And you obviously miss it."
"Oh, no! Not really! Or anyway," Org Rider qualified, "only when I've been too long on the orbiter, or in a lander, or spending time with those stinking Scorpians and Sheliaks. But Zara understands! And I wouldn't trade her for a hundred orgs—well, for a dozen, anyway," he grinned, affectionately patting her slim shoulder. Then he roused himself. "I suppose you'd like some real coffee? I thought so—can't stand the stuff myself, but Zara likes it. I'll pass. I've got an errand to run."
Zara spoke up. "Tell him, Org Rider."
The stretched-out man shrugged, a sinuous movement that seemed to take twice as long as with a normal-sized human being. "It's not a secret—from you at least, Jenbab- ylon. I've got to see the Omega Pertin. He's been sneaking and spying around again, and he wants a meeting with me. I'm sure it's nothing. —Well, not as terrible as he seems to think, anyway," he amended. "But I'll find out. I don't think I'll be gone more than an hour or so—take your time with your coffee, and we'll see if I can find anything better to drink when I get back!"
Zara rose to kiss him as he left, then returned to Babylon. She listened politely but without any sign of close attention to his complimentary remarks about the meal and their home. Something was on her mind. When Babylon realized that, he occupied himself with a long, marvelous sip of his bulb of coffee to give her a chance to get it out.
She plucked at her tunic as if she were having difficulty finding the right words, and then said, "Jen?"
"Yes, Zara?"
She gave him a sudden smile. "I'm embarrassed," she confessed. She was a strange-looking human being, attenuated so that she towered over him—but a beautiful one, Babylon thought. And most of all so when she smiled. "It's nothing, really," she said. "Or—that's not true, either. Oh, hell! Let me come right out with it. The other Zara back on Earth—didn't you say she had a child?"
"That's right, Zara. A little boy. Eight or ten years old, I should imagine—very nice little boy, allowing for the natural tendency to get into mischief."
She nodded. "I assume it's Don Gentry's child?"
"Well, I didn't really know her, Zara, but, yes, I think that was her husband's name."
She grinned. "My husband's."
"Yours?" She had caught him unaware. "Oh, I see what you mean—you are, after all, the same person! Just as I'm the same person as the one back in Boston who won't answer my requests for help! It's a little confusing, keeping track of who is who."
She laughed out loud. "You think it's confusing? But there are only two of you! And of me—heaven knows how many. But Don and I did get married, back on Earth, and then the two of us came here together. But—he was killed. And then I met Org Rider. He's a wonderful person, Jen, so simple and strong. And, to tell the truth, Don and I weren't getting on that well together, even after we came here. So I'm a little surprised that we had a child together."
Babylon said diffidently, "Didn't I understand that you were also married to Ben Pertin?"
Her laugh was tinkling. "Not to any of the Ben Pertins you know, Jen. You see, the first time I was tachyon- transmitted, my duplicate went to Sun One. That's thousands of light-years away, in a completely different part of the Galaxy from Earth. I hadn't even met Don Gentry when I went there. So on Sun One I met that Ben Pertin, and we got engaged. After he was tachyon-transmitted here I married the one who stayed behind. And I—that I on Sun One, I mean—had a child, too. A little girl. I have a picture of her," she said wistfully. She leaned forward and put her hand on Babylon's arm. "Come on, Jen! Tell me what I want to know. What's my son like?"
Touched, Babylon paused, trying to remember. One little kid was a lot like any other to a bachelor. "He was ... a young boy," he said lamely. "He seemed like a bright young man. I remember he got in trouble with his mother because, naturally, he was interested in everything that went on. So he wandered off when she wasn't looking. She gave him quite a talking-to when he turned up again, but I don't think she was really worried—he gave the impression of being unusually able to take care of himself." He paused, then asked directly, "Why don't you ask her—I mean ask you, that other you? I'm sure she'd send you a holo at least!"
Zara looked pensive. "Maybe I should," she said. "After all, why not? Although we've sort of lost touch . . . Well, I'll tell the truth. It's embarrassing, Jen! That's one of the confusions. When your husband dies you're a widow; that's simple enough. But what if in some other place he isn't dead, and you're still married to him? It's simply too complicated to handle, Jen." She stared unseeingly at the holo of the org for a moment, then nodded decisively. "Yes, you're right! I should ask her. It's nothing to do with Don and me. It's only a question of motherhood, and she'll understand—I mean I'll understand!" She was laughing now. "Oh, Jen," she said warmly, "you don't know how grateful I am to you for this talk!"