Oh, would the stars might mourn for this our comrade, Weep tears of light across a riven sky,
Or that the rain which falls upon his homeland Were bidding him a long and last goodbye,
Or at the least, a blossom drop to kiss him
From off a tree where springtime breezes blow:
For then we'd not be all alone in grieving.
The world would sorrow too, the world that he loved so.
But silence reigns among the the suns and planets. The leaves are dumb, the weather's deaf and blind.
We've only us to keen for this comrade
And know that he was bright and strong and kind.
Ochone, ochone! He's gone like any sunrise.
Ochone, ochone! He laughed while he was here.
Ochone, ochone! He is no more forever.
What's left for us lies still, yet still is very dear.
XXI
I was a crow. My first dim dreams ended in hunger when the universe went void. Angered, I tapped at its shell until this broke apart, and there was the day. My eyes ifiled with dazzle. I opened my mouth to it and yawped for food. Wings overshadowed me, a beak large and hard thrust into my gape, love poured thence to my inside. Soon I was aware that naked others were crowding me, so I crowded back and demanded as loudly as they did.
Plumage grew on us, and we spent much time happily admiring our own glossy blackness. But before long parents shoved us from the nest. After the first beautiful terror and wild flapping, I learned how the wind would upbear me and what power lay ready to be unfolded in my wings. I took the air unto me, soared, swooped, glided, rejoiced. The sky was mine, and the whole earth below it ripe for raiding.
I belonged to the flock, of course, and had my place in the ranking and my occasional duties, such as watching out for hawks or men when we sought the lands beyond our woods. I never wished things were otherwise. Crows have fun. We chattered, intrigued, shouted our mirth, went off on expeditions, persecuted owls, found goodies to eat and sparkly things to bring home, were endlessly entertained by the antics of alien creatures, lorded it over the treetops. In the depths of leafless cold, we could still peck a living out of the snowcrust. But oh, the green and rustling summess! Oh, my female and our darling small chicks!
I grew old at last, weak, slow, though my knowledge of this was misty. One day a fox caught me on the ground. I broke free of his jaws, but blood spattered out of me until I could fly no more. Finding me a thicket, I sprawled on damp mushroomy soil, shut away from the sky, panting, while darkness blew ever stronger through me. Then the Summoner came and, still alive for a while, I departed that country wherein I had been Bird.
XXII
A chime sounded through the cabin Joelle had taken. "Come in," she called.
Brodersen did, closing the door behind him. Framed by personal chamber, he seemed doubly big and vivid. It blazed up in her that she wanted him.
Stop that nonsense! she ordered herself. He's busy, preoccupied, see the haggardness, how the powerful arms hang at his sides, the gray eyes look more downward-slanting than ever. Furthermore, I will shortly begin my proper work, the wonder of Oneness will possess me and nothing else will matter.
Nevertheless desire continued to thrill faintly along her veins. Eight years, no, nearer nine, and Brodersen had been that last lover, when he visited Earth- She'd not found celibacy difficult on the expedition, when every waking hour was charged with discovery. The risk of a man getting emotionally involved and pestering her when she wanted to carry out a project (as had happened a couple of times at home) was an overly high price for the rubbing of an itch that came infrequently anyway. Of course, at last I did pay. Christine-Chris lay buried on Beta. Dan was here, two meters from her.
"I stopped by to check on how you're doing," his deep voice said.
"Quite well, thank you," Joelle replied above her pulse. `We're certainly fortunate that you were foresighted enough to keep this ship completely stocked."
"Foresighted, hell." He grinned. "I was champing at the bit, and figured that if anything broke my way-like you coming home early-I should be ready to take off myself before some bureaucrat found a reason to refuse me clearance."
He glanced around. "Just the same, we got caught pretty flatfooted," he said. "And you folks from the Wheel are worse off. Uh, about changes of clothes for you. Pegeen-Caitlin Mulryan, our quartermaster, you recall, she'll be happy to lend you a couple of things-you're about the same size-and she'll make more out of spare cloth we've got along when she gets a chance, for you and whoever else wants. She's a good seamstress. You might be thinking what sorts of garment you'd prefer."
Joelle shrugged. "You know I don't care, provided it's comfortable. But thank her for me, please. I'll try to remember to do so in person, but you also know how forgetful I am about everyday matters."
"What more can you use? For instance, most of us keep a small private stock of food and drink. I imagine you'd rather not eat every meal in the mess."
"Oh, if they don't mind me often being a poor conversationalist, I don't mind sitting at a public table. I shut the noise out. -
But it would be nice if I could offer you-offer a guest refreshment." She gestured, noting how awkward the motion was. "Won't you sit down? And, well, I didn't acquire any dislike of a pipe while I was gone."
"I noticed that at the conference, and was glad." He took a chair. She brought another to face it. Fetching out his tobacco pouch, he went on, "I can't stay but a minute or three. Got to arrange for making the salt water bath you say Fidelio needs. We have the chemicals, I'm sure, and the metal or plastic or whatever for a container, but we'd better make some recycling arrangement too, in case this trip stretches out longer than I hope it will."
"Isn't that a problem for your engineers?"
"Yes, but first Fidelio has to explain exactly what the requirements are. That'll be slow, even with Carlos to help, he knowing some of the Betan language. No, languages, right? You're the expert in those, but I gather you're due for a computer session. I think I can help discussion keep moving. Not to mention forty million other things that need attention before I knock off."
"Do call on me if you encounter serious linguistic problems. By the way, would you consider modifying a set of encephalic attachments for Fidelio, so he can link in with me? He's a holothete."
"Huh? I'd no idea."
"It appears to affect the personality less among Betans than among humans." Silence closed in while she tried to say what she wanted to say. Breaking the barrier in a rush: "Dan, it's wonderful seeing you again. More than being liberated. You were the man who did it."
He became busy charging his pipe. "No, we did, the team of us; and Sergei- We may not have done you a favor. You're headed into danger."
`Were we in no danger in the Wheel?"
"Yeah, true. . . I guess. . . . I have to keep shoving away this nightmare notion that we're dead wrong in what we're trying to do. That I'm putting lives at hazard for naught."
She managed to lean forward and drop a hand on his knee. "Don't fret. Politics always confuses me, but you've a feel for it and a knowledge. I rely on your judgment, as you'll have to rely on my calculations. Have faith in yourself, Dan."
"I'd better," he said dryly. His fingers remained at work on his pipe. "Well, are you set to make that analysis, Joelle?"
