"I've little doubt. He ought to call me this afternoon."
'What about picking me up?"
"That's in the package. I told him several of Chinook's crew had last-minute business groundside, and because of the need for discretion couldn't engage a shuttle to the ship. They'll meet at a spot where Williwaw can fetch them, if he issues a permit." Lis paused. "Where should it be?"
Brodersen had already considered that. "East shore of Spearhorn Lake. Well off in the backwoods, you recall, though there's a road of sorts-easy landing site-okay?"
"Okay." She glanced at her watch. "Hold on." He realized she was punching a keyboard. "There. Our tape was running out. I patched in the extra section."
"Good girl." He stood helpless to kiss her. "Oh, good girl."
"I'm not sure we have much else to talk about," she said forlornly. "If the boat doesn't come tonight, I suppose you'd better find a phone and check with me tomorrow morning."
"Naturalmente, querida."
"The kids are fine, except for missing you. Barbara's having her nap. I could wake her."
"Don't."
"She said to tell you hello from her and Slewfoot both."
"Tell her hello right back, and-and-"
They stumbled along for a minute or two till Brodersen exploded: "Hell! This isn't getting us anywhere, is it?"
"No. And you'd better move. That lake's a ways from Novy Mir."
"Yeah. Right. I love you, Lis."
"Goodbye, darling." She operated controls to segue in a canned farewell. "I mean, 'So long. Hasta la vista.' But don't worry if it takes you a while. I'll always be here."
The screen blanked. Not quite steadily, Brodersen sought Caitlin's table. The chair creaked when his weight thumped down.
She reached to clasp his hand. "Is all well, my heart?" she asked low.
"Seems like it," he muttered, staring down at the scarred surface.
"And underneath, all is ill. That poor brave lady. It's fine judgment you showed in choosing her, Dan, so it is."
He met her green gaze and essayed a smile. "I'm a good judge of women. Drink up and let's clear out of here."
"Gladly will I go with you anywhere, my own, but-" she made a wry mouth-"must I drink up?"
"No, never mind. Leave it for the poor."
"What, and be starting a revolution?"
Somewhat cheered, he bade the landlord, "Adios" and accompanied her forth. Phoebus was approaching noon, most settlers were out in the communal cropland, houses dreamed side by side along a single dusty street. Their timber smelled tarry in the warmth, though bright images adorned the gables. A cat strolled by. A babushka sat on her stoop, knitting, while she kept watch on a couple of small children at play, whose shouts were almost the only sound. Beyond, the valley reached green to the mountains whose sheerness enclosed it. The scene might have come out of a book of nursery tales, Brodersen thought.
But fusion-powered spacecraft had brought its creators here; agrochemists guided the conversion of the soil until Terrestrial plants, duly modified by geneticists, could flourish; ecological technology, working mostly on the microbial level, held at bay the native life which else would return and reconquer; at night, the constellations bore names like Aeneas and Gryphus, and only a powerful telescope could find the star which was So!.
"Where are we bound?" Caitlin inquired as he opened the car bubble.
"To meet with the boat that'll take me off," Brodersen said. "Will you return this runabout to the rental agency for me, please?"
"What, has it not an autopilot you can be setting for that?"
"Yes, but you'll be to hellangone from anywhere."
"What do you mean I will?"
"Hey, wait, you don't think-"
"Get in," she said. "Drive while we fight, so we can be done with that when we arrive and ready for more interesting pastimes."
"Pegeen," he sighed, casting off guilt, for Lis would not begrudge him what comfort he could seize, "you've got a one-track mind."
"True," she agreed. "Isn't it a nice track?"
Chinook swung about Demeter like a near moon. Later she would be a comet.
Modeled on Emissary, since hers was to have been the same purpose if the gods were kind to Brodersen, she was a sphere, two hundred meters in diameter, mirror-burnished. (Her powerplant could easily keep her warm; getting rid of heat was the occasional problem.) Aft, the focuser for her jet traced out, with its framework, a graceful tulip shape. Amidships were the auxiliaries, swivel-mounted chemical rocket motors. Around the forward hemisphere, locks, turrets, housing, and electronic dishes broke her smoothness. At the pole opposite the main drive, two cranes flanked a great circular door.
Her crew were aboard. That had gone more easily than Leino intimated to Two Eagles. They had taken the regular ferry to Persephone, unnoticed among the other passengers. At the port they engaged a private boat, whose owner-pilot cleared for Erion and then took them to their ship instead. Intersatellite traffic was only loosely monitored, and most spacemen were willing to break a regulation or two if it would help a lodge mate.
Fetching the captain unbeknownst presented more of a problem.
Word came. The door swung aside. A conveyor thrust Williwaw halfway out. The cranes laid hold on the boat, hauled her forth, swung her around so her blast wouldn't touch the mother vessel. In shape her seventy-five-meter length suggested a torpedo, fins at the rear, wings recessed near the waist, lanceolate boom projecting from the nose.
Vapor gushed from her, too hot to be visible. The cranes let go and she accelerated. A portion of the water condensed kilometers behind, making a cloud that roiled spectral white before dissipating. It was an inefficient system compared to a plasma drive, but it could endure rough passage through an atmosphere. For all her size and the unimaginable energies that her engine released and channeled, Chinook was too fragile for that, or for even landing anywhere.
Obedient to an officially approved flight plan, Williwaw spent a couple of hours curving toward the planet before she reached the fringes of its stratosphere. Much velocity remained to be shed: slowly, lest she burn. Stubby wings extended. The rockets fell silent; valves closed them off. For a time the pilot and his computer nursed the boat through a long glide. Eventually she was at a level where the jet motors on the wings had a sufficient intake. He kicked in power to them. A rising whine filled the cockpit. Still furiously decelerating, Williwaw was now an aircraft. Solid-state optical transmitters revealed to the pilot a sea of sunlit clouds, far and far below. He had half the globe to round before he landed.
The moons of Demeter orbit faster than does the Moon of Earth. On this night, Erion was down and Persephone would not rise till after dawn. Thus a larger number of stars showed than before, soft in a violet-blue dusk. The hour was past for torchflies and choristers; quietness dwelt here. Walled by shadow masses of forest, the lake sheened sable. Across the middle of it, Zeus cast a perfect glade. Because the vale which cupped it lay much less high than the cave, warmth lingered, to raise a ghost of smoky fragrance from the sunbloom growing amidst lodix on the open ground where Brodersen and Caitlin sat.
He stirred upon springy turf. It was becoming damp. "Damnation, Pegeen," he said, "you cannot go, and that's that." At the back of his mind he felt how his vehemence profaned the peace around them.
She curled calf beneath knee, leaned against him, rumpled his hair, nibbled his ear. "I love you when you're firm," she murmured. "You may take that in any sense you please."
"This is ridiculous! How often must I repeat? You've no training-"
"Yourself have promised you'd give me the same, and the learning is easy and there's nothing to equal free-fall screwing."
