Starbridge (47 page)

Ssoriszs dipped his tentacles in agreement. "I only wish that I could be the one to show you my world. We could converse together among the gardens, and see the patterns the moons make as they cross the night sky . . . but, since I must go on to Earth, Esteemed Shirazz"--the Mizari indicated his assistant-- "will take my place, and accompany you."

Mahree smiled. "I would be pleased and honored to have her company."

Ssoriszs flicked his tentacles at Dhurrrkk', who was sitting quietly on his haunches by Mahree's side. "Your friend, Honored Dhurrrkk', has also asked to accompany you. Since his appointment as First Ambassador to Avernus, he has declared that returning Doctor Blanket to its homeworld and pursuing the Avernian Contact is his first priority. Avernus will be your first stop." The CLS Mediator gestured in the direction of the Avernian, where the being lay beneath the shelter of its light-nullifier.

"Dhurrrkk'!" Mahree exclaimed. "You'll be going with me?"

"Yes, FriendMahree," the Simiu said. "Then we can travel on to Shassiszss together, so that I may make my report to Ahkk'eerrr and the other CLS

Councillors."

"Oh, I'm so glad!" Hastily handing her sculpture to Shirazz, Mahree stooped down to hug her friend. "It's going to be wonderful!" she exclaimed.

"Traveling in space, all of us together again--"

She broke off, and Rob knew that it had finally hit her. He watched her expression, seeing the dismay as the truth slowly sank in. Mahree straightened up, biting her lip. "Where's Rob?" she said, looking around her.

"Rob?" she called.

Guess that's my cue,
the doctor thought, and stepped around Raoul into view. "Congratulations, sweetheart," he said unsteadily, holding out his hand.

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Pale and shaken, she clutched his arm. "Rob! Oh ...
Rob!"

"Yeah," he said. "I know."

Mahree took a deep breath, struggling visibly to control herself, then turned to the Mizari. "Esteemed One, will you excuse me for now? I ... need a little while to assimilate all this."

The Mizari bowed. "Certainly. We will speak again tomorrow."

Rob headed out the door, with Mahree beside him. He saw Dhurrrkk' start after them, then hesitate, and he shook his head quickly at the Simiu.

Outside, in the corridor, he put an arm around Mahree's shoulders and guided her back to
Desiree.
She walked like an automaton, her expression stricken. He took her straight to his office, displacing Sekhmet from the nearest seat. "You'd better sit down," he said.

She obeyed him mechanically, then sat with shoulders bowed, twisting her hands in her lap. Rob brought back a cup of coffee for each of them.

"Coffee," he said. "You look like you could use some." He sat down in his desk chair, opposite her.

Mahree's voice was unsteady, and she did not look up as she spoke. "When Shirazz first told me that you were being considered for that job, I thought that
you
might be staying," she said, dully. "I was all braced to see you go off to Shassiszss. I hoped that they'd let me come with you, as a translator, maybe."

Rob took a sip of his coffee. It burned his tongue and the roof of his mouth, but he scarcely noticed it. "Talk about irony," he remarked, and then he could not stop himself from saying, "You could always turn them down." It was an effort to keep his voice level, but he managed. "You're not shy about saying 'no.' "

She looked up at him wordlessly, her eyes wide and haunted in her pale, drawn face. "I'm sorry, that was a cheap shot," Rob said. He took another sip of the coffee. "Why can't spaceships ever have decent coffee?" he wondered aloud, and was dismayed to hear his voice crack. He cleared his throat.

"Rob ..." Mahree put her hands to her cheeks and shook her head distractedly. "Now I know what it feels like to be pulled apart, like that ancient execution they used to do with the teams of horses!"

"I know," he said. "I understand."

"If only there were some way ..." she trailed off.

"Maybe you could . . . delay . . . this for a while," Rob suggested. "Go to Earth first, then we could both come back to

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Shasssiszss together." He swallowed.
Don't beg,
he thought.
Don't.

But she ought to realize what she's giving up,
he decided.
If you don't speak
up now, you'll spend the entire voyage back to Earth cussing yourself for not
trying, at least.
He took a deep breath. "What about your college, Mahree?

Your education?"

"Think of all the things the Mizari could teach me, Rob! Their science is more advanced than ours. I could probably earn the equivalent of a Ph.D. in bio-sciences from studying with Shirazz!"

"And there's Earth itself," he said, continuing in the same vein. "If you're going to be representing humanity, don't you think you ought to get a look at your home world?" He leaned toward her. "There's lots we could do on Earth, sweetheart. Paris--shit, you've never seen
Paris,
and that's half your human heritage! The Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe."

He leaned over and took her hands in his. "Mahree ... the Rockies are gorgeous. The Grand Canyon is breathtaking. So is the Great Wall! There's Tokyo, Moscow, New York! Honey, do you realize we've never even been on a
date!
We've never had any fun?"

She glanced at the door to their sleeping cabin, then looked at him sideways. He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Okay, we've had fun, right. But we haven't had a chance just to be together, two people in love, without the fate of worlds to worry about."

Slowly, she nodded. "You're right, we haven't."

"Dancing," he said. "Have you ever been dancing?"

"I don't know how," she admitted, in a small voice.-

"I could teach you. I could teach you to ski, too, in the Rockies. Or the Alps."

She sighed. "I'm a good skier."

"Terrific. So am I. Can you ice skate?"

"Sure."

"I can't.
You
could teach
me.
Mahree ..."He tightened his grip on her hands.

"We could hike ... go horseback riding ... lie on the beach. You could find out what it's like on Earth. And
then--
in a year or two--you could come back here. And I'd come with you."

She was already shaking her head. "No, Rob ... in the first place, saying 'not now, later' would be rude to the League. In the second place, what would you do if you stayed with me--

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follow me around as my personal physician, maybe? Sit back while you watch me in the spotlight? I don't think you could stand that--any more than I could be happy being a faithful faculty wife. And that reminds me--what about Ssoriszs' plans for that school?"

Rob had forgotten all about the school at StarBridge. He let go of her hands and got up to pace around the little office, stopping to stroke Sekhmet as she sat on the edge of his desk. Her throaty purr was loud in the stillness.

Finally Rob squared his shoulders and looked back up.
"Shit.
You're right, babe ... I couldn't hack trailing around after you like some supportive politician's spouse. The envy would get to me--sooner or later, damn it, it'd get to me."

Mahree broke down, burying her face in her hands. Rob wanted to comfort her, but he hurt too badly himself at the moment. He stood there, fighting with the pain in his chest, taking deep breaths, trying to swallow the tightness in his throat.

Finally he was able to control himself enough to walk over and grasp her shaking shoulders, pull her up into his arms.

"Hey . . . it'll be all right," he whispered, stroking her hair. "It will, you'll see.

You've got the most magnificent opportunity in the history of mankind. You'd be an idiot to turn it down. I was being selfish, but it's only because I love you too much to let you go without a fight. But I'll shut up, I promise. It won't be the end. We'll see each other, we'll manage somehow. Take it easy, baby . . . shhhhh . . . c'mon now . . . easy . . ."

Finally her sobbing died down into sniffles and hiccups. "Go wash your face," Rob said, giving her a gentle push toward the lavatory. "It'll make you feel better."

When she came back, her eyes were still red, but she was outwardly composed. "Hey, cheer up, it won't be forever," Rob told her. "I'll be back on the
Dawn Wind.
That'll only be six months or so.'

"Six months!"
She gave him a despairing glance. "I can't live without you for six months!"

"Yeah, you can," he said, unable to keep the anguished edge out of his voice. "And you will. You'll be busy, honey. And you'll have Dhurrrkk' and Shirazz." He glanced down and shrugged. "You'll make out better without me than I will without you."

Mahree stared at him bleakly. "I don't know what to do."

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Rob gazed back, his dark eyes holding hers. "Yes you do. Don't bullshit yourself, and don't bullshit me," he said. "This is going to be hard enough as it is. You're going to stay, Mahree, you know that." He paused for a beat, then said gently, "Don't you?"

She took a deep, ragged breath. "You're right. I'm going to stay."

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He's gone.

They're all gone.

I'm the only human for parsecs, by now.

Dawn Wind
left yesterday, two days after
Desiree.
The Mizari ships are faster, so they won't have any problem catching up.

I can still hardly believe it. A hundred times today I thought, I'll
have to tell
Rob . . .
only to realize--
again--
that he's not here, and that he won't be back for a long time. That six-month estimate he mentioned may well be conservative. Who knows how long it will take the ruling powers back on Earth to pull themselves together when
Desiree
and
Dawn Wind
show up?

My parents won't even know what's happened for at least eighteen months.

They've given me a nice apartment here on Station Three, though I've now been cleared to go down to the surface of Hurrreeah. (Dhurrrkk' wants me to come home with him and spend some time in his mother's house the next time we're here. I think I'd like that.)

Last night, after Rob left, I broke down completely. I felt so alone. My little apartment was so
quiet.

I finally just lay there, hurting all over, wishing I could sleep, but knowing I wouldn't. Then Dhurrrkk' signaled the door and came in. We didn't talk much; he just held my hands in his hard, leather-palmed ones, then stroked my hair as gently as he would

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Sekhmet's fur, and gradually I felt better. We finally curled up together, the way we had on
Rosinante,
and then I was able to sleep.

Shirazz has been a big help, too. She's my personal physician, can you believe it? Rob spent a week coaching her, and gave her copies of all his medical texts, plus a whole pharmacopoeia of medicines designed to get me through just about any crisis. He also instructed me on what to take, if I get sick.

Uncle Raoul left me with all kinds of supplies. My own food-processing unit, textbooks, holo-vids--everything I'm likely to need. I'm going to design myself a little study curriculum, with Shirazz's help, and the next ship back is going to bring me a complete correspondence course. It may take me a while, with my other responsibilities, but I'm going to get that college degree. And someday, I hope, I'll see Earth.

Rob left me a bunch of his old films. He put one on the top of the stack. It was his beloved copy of
Casablanca.
The note accompanying it said:
Until we can have Paris, too--

Love, Rob

And then there was a little sketch--a very clever caricature of Rob and Ssoriszs, wearing those funny old trenchcoats, walking and slithering away together, with a background of an old-time airfield in the fog. And the Rob-figure is saying, "You know, Ssoriszs, I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship."

I had no idea that Rob could draw.

This will be my last entry in this journal. I'm going to leave it behind when we depart on the
Twilight Blossom
day after tomorrow. I've gotten in the habit now, so I daresay I'll start a new one. But in that journal I'll record the present, and my plans for the future, and try not to think about the past.

"Be careful what you wish for, you might get it," goes the old saying.

Before I go to bed, I think I'll walk up to the observation deck, and look at the stars. They always comfort me. I think about the planets and the people that may be orbiting them, and I smile.

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I'll watch the stars, for a while, clear and steady here where there's no atmosphere to make them twinkle, beautiful in their myriad hues . . . blue, white, yellow, red, and orange . . .

I'll watch them . . . but, believe me, it'll be a long time before I do any more wishing.

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AUTHOR'S AFTERWORD

One day when I was in the third grade, I went to my local library and discovered something terrifying: I
had read all the horse books!

Horrors! A lifetime of desolate boredom stretched before me.

Desperately I scanned the shelves, searching frantically for something new to read. My tracing fingers halted on a volume with a rocket on its spine. I pulled it out, began turning pages, and within a minute or two, laid the book beside me instead of putting it back on the shelf.
Rocket to Luna,
by Richard Marsden, I believe it was. And within minutes, another joined it ...
Star
Rangers,
by Andre Norton.

I don't remember which one I read first, but by the time I'd finished both, I was
hooked.
Science fiction was my passion. I read all the books with the rocket on the spine, and all the books by Andre Norton ... and, as the years went by, books by Robert Heinlein, Isaac Asimov, Theodore Sturgeon, Samuel R.

Delaney, Harlan Ellison, Roger Zelazny, Anne McCaffrey, Ursula K.

LeGuin ... the list goes on and on.

In the early days of my science fiction reading, though I continued to devour space adventures eagerly, I began to feel that
something
was missing. It wasn't until I was fourteen and read Andre Norton's
Ordeal in Otherwhere
that I finally figured out what the missing "something" was. Females. Girls.