Transmaniacon (29 page)

“I know. But I've sailed from Astor to 'Frisco and from New Orleans to New York dozens of times, along the coast, inside the Barrier.”

She's almost as lovely as the sea
, he thought.

In this wan light her features seemed to glow, and her eyes were darkly appealing. Asking for something. He shook his head. “I'm not going to change my mind,” he said, feeling oddly weightless.

“You—didn't forget anything? You sure? You got all the provisions you're going to need to cross a goddamn
ocean?”

“Sorry,” he said. “No reason to go back. I have it all. But I suppose, if you really can't go with me, I can turn around. But there's the tide and everything. And the wind. It will take me, working against those factors, several hours to get back in.”

She shook her head, reaching out to support herself against the rail as the boat bucked. “No, hell no, it'd be a
shame
for you to turn back now. I guess.” She sighed. “No. But, Ben, you know what the odds against your getting there are? And even if you make it, you must know it's not going to be friendly over there. It's all either radioactive craters or savages—”

“I've been waiting thirty years for this, Gloria. I waited thirty years and yet I could hardly bear to wait those last two months as they built the boat. If the
Joseph Conrad
had taken another week to complete I'd have tried going by raft.”

Gloria wore a pair of khaki pants over a one-piece black bathing suit, and sandals. She kicked off the pants and sandals and strode with an air of determination to the rail. She looked down into the sea and shivered. “Looks cold.”

“You can be sure it's cold… Where you going to go if—when—you get back to shore?”

“Astor, I think. Look, Ben, I want to go with you. But I can't. I can't stand boats, and frankly, I don't think you're going to make it there alive. I came this far because I was
sure
you'd change your mind when you got a look at what you were up against, here. I mean, you were always so practical. You think I'm going to go to sleep for a century just to wake up and get myself drowned a few months later? I'm just not the faithful-woman-type who follows you no-matter-where. I'm sorry. Because of the way I feel. About you. I––”

Ben struggled with himself and won. He managed to keep back tears. “I feel that way, too. About you. And peace in a place like Astor sounds good. And with you—even better. But I
can't.
Call it momentum. Decades ago I surrendered to a force. It made me what I am and it broke the Barrier and it brought me here. And now it's taking me across the sea. I
could
go in a nulgrav car, of course. But it wouldn't be the same. No. I have to. I'm crazy, I guess. I don't expect you to come with me. Thanks for coming this far. I mean it. So...” He forced a chuckle. “You thought I'd change my mind once I got out here, eh?”

“Yeah.” She smiled and kissed him. “I think you're crazy.”

“I wish I'd brought a life raft for you. If you want to swim back to land you'd better get started. I hope you're a damn good swimmer. You're going to have to fight the tide, currents, and the cold. Don't surrender to them. You a good swimmer, are you?”

“Damn straight. Helluva good swimmer, no brag. I can get back. You…watch out for those sonuvabitching Houston dolphins while you're out there, they got no reason to love you.” She bent and removed something from the pocket of her discarded pants. She straightened, and explained, “The rock tape.” She put it to her ear.

“What's it playing?” Ben asked.

“Pink Floyd, ‘Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun.'”

She handed the capsule to Ben. He put it in a coat pocket.

“You gotta have something to listen to, on the way,” she said.

Then, she climbed up onto the rail, poised, and dived clean and true, into the spread of the wake.

Gloria surfaced, shook her water-flattened hair from her eyes and, teeth chattering, began to breaststroke toward shore--to find her way back to Astor.

Ben looked after her for a moment, reflecting that the currents were treacherous here. There were some mean breakers closer in. But it wasn't far, and he figured she had a favorable chance to make it to shore. And they'd left a nulgrav car on the wharf.

He returned to the wheel, unstrapped it and took its pegs in his hands, feeling the beam and breadth of the ship in the vibrations of the smooth wood under his fingers.

It was morning, the wind was chill, the sky flat and gray with clouds. He was alone but for the singing wind and the hissing seas. And he surrendered to those forces, the wind and seas.

As he passed the point where once before the Barrier would have stopped him, he shuddered, half-expecting to crash into it. Nothing but salt spray struck him. He smiled.

He took a deep breath, sucked in air sweet with the briny rot of the sea, and thought,
Eight to one probability that she'll make it ashore. Six to one against Ben Rackey making it alone across the Atlantic Ocean.

He was satisfied with those odds. With the wind at his back he sailed for Europe, and the New World.