уI . . . it is nothing.ф Nakamuraтs brown gaze held some obscure beggary. уI should not haveўIt is nothing.ф
уDid you want anything of me?ф Maclaren offered one of his last cigarettes. Nakamura accepted it blindly, without even saying thanks. Something is very wrong with this lad, thought Maclaren. Fear drained in through the glittering viewport. And heтs the only pilot weтve got.
уNo. I had . . . I was resting a few moments. One cannot do precision work when . . . tired . . . yes-s-s.ф Nakamuraтs hunger-gaunted cheeks caved in with the violence of his sucking on the tobacco. A little crown of sweat-beads danced around his head.
уOh, youтre not bothering me.ф Maclaren crossed his legs and leaned back on the air. уAs a matter of fact, Iтm glad of your company. I need someone to talk with.ф
Nakamura laughed his meaningless laugh. уWe should look to you for help, rather than you to us,ф he said. уYou are the least changed of us all.ф
уOh? I thought I was the most affected. Sverdlov hankers for his women and his alcohol and his politics. Ryerson wants back to his shiny new wife and his shiny new planet. Youтre the local rock of ages. But meўф Maclaren shrugged. уIтve nothing to anchor me.ф
уYou have grown quieter, yes.ф The cigarette in Nakamuraтs hand quivered a little, but his words came steadily now.
уI have begun to wonder about things.ф Maclaren scowled at the black sun. By treating it as a scientific problem, he had held at armтs length the obsession he had seen eating at Ryersonўwho grew silent and large-eyed and reverted to the iron religion he had once been shaking offўand at Sverdlov, who waxed bitterly profane. So far, Maclaren had not begun thinking of the star as a half-alive malignancy. But it would be all too easy to start.
уOne does, sooner or later.ф Nakamuraтs tone held no great
interest. He was still wrapped up in his private horror, and that was what Maclaren wanted to get him out of.
уBut I donтt wonder efficiently. I find myself going blank, when all Iтm really doing is routine stuff and I could just as well be thinking at my problems.ф
уThought is a technique, to be learned,ф said Nakamura, ╬~just as the uses of the bodyўф He broke off. уI have no right to teach. I have failed my own masters.ф
уIтd say you were doing very well. Iтve envied you your faith. You have an answer.ф
уZen does not offer any cut-and-dried answers to problems. In fact, it tries to avoid all theory. No human system can comprehend the infinite real universe.ф
уI know.ф
уAnd that is my failure,ф whispered Nakamura. уI look for an explanation. I do not want merely to be. No, that is not enough . . . out here, I find that I want to be justified.ф
Maclaren stared into the cruelty of heaven. уIтll tell you something,ф he said. уIтm scared spitless.ф
уWhat? But I thoughtўф
уOh, I have enough flip retorts to camouflage it. But Iтm as much afraid to die, Iтm struggling as frantically and with as little dignity, as any trapped rat. And Iтm slowly coming to see why, too. Itтs because I havenтt got anything but my own lifeў my own minute meaningless life of much learning and no understanding, much doing and no accomplishing, many acquaintances and no friendsўit shouldnтt be worth the trouble of salvaging, should it? And yet Iтm unable to see any more in the entire universe than just that: a lot of scurrying small accidents of organic chemistry, on a lot of flyspeck planets. If things made even a little sense, if I could see there was anything at all more important than this bunch of mucous membranes labeled Terangi Maclaren . . . why, then thereтd be no reason to fear my own termination. The things that mattered would go on.ф
N AKAMURA smoked in silence for a while. Maclaren finished his own cigarette in quick nervous puffs, fought temptation, swore to himself and lit another.
уI didnтt mean to turn you into a weeping post,ф he said. And
he thought: The hell I didnтt. I fed you your psychological medicine right on schedule. Though perhaps I did make the dose larger than planned.
уI am unworthy,ф said Nakamura. уBut it is an honor.ф
He stared outward, side by side with the other man. уI try to reassure myself with the thought that there must be beings more highly developed than we,ф he said.
уAre you sure?ф answered Maclaren, welcoming the chance to be impersonal. уWeтve never found any that were even comparable to us. In the brains department, at least. Iтll admit the Van Mannenтs abos are more beautiful, and the Old Thothians more reliable and sweet tempered.ф
уHow much do we know of the galaxy?ф
уUm-m-m . . . yes.ф
уI have lived in the hope of encountering a truly great race. Even if they are not like godsўthey will have their own wise men. They will not look at the world just as we do. From each other, two such peoples could learn the unimaginable, just as the high epochs of Earthтs history came when different peoples interflowed. Yes-s-s. But this would be so much more, because the difference is greater. Less conflict. What reason would there be for it? And more to offer, a billion years of separate experience as life forms.ф
уI can tell you this much,ф said Maclaren, уthe Protectorate would not like it. Our present civilization couldnтt survive such a transfusion of ideas.ф
уIs our civilization anything so great?ф asked Nakamura with an unwonted scornfulness.
уNo. I suppose not.ф
уWe have a number of technical tricks. Doubtless we could learn more from such aliens as I am thinking of. But what we would really learn that matteredўfor this era of human history lacks oneўwould be a philosophy.ф
уI thought you didnтt believe in philosophies.ф
уI used a wrong word. I meant a doўa way. A way of. . an attitude? That is what life is for, that is your ╬Whyтўit is not a mechanical cause-and-effect thing, it is the spirit in which we live.ф
Nakamura laughed again. уBut hear the child correcting the master! I, who cannot even follow the known precepts of Zen,
ask for help from the unknown! Were it offered me, I would doubtless crawl into the nearest worm-hole.ф
And suddenly the horror flared up agaiii. He grabbed Maclarenтs arm. It sent them both twisting around, so that their outraged senses of balance made the stars whirl in their skulls. Maclaren felt Nakamuraтs grip like ice on his bare skin.
уI am afraid!ф choked the pilot. уHelp me! I am afraid!ф
They regained their floating positions. Nakamura let go and took a fresh cigarette with shaking fingers. The silence grew thick.
Maclaren said at last, not looking toward the Saraian: уWhy not tell me the reason? It might relieve you a bit.ф
Nakamura drew a breath. уI have always been afraid of space,ф he said. уAnd yet called to it also. Can you understand?ф
уYes. I think I know.ф
уIt hasўф Nakamura giggled. уUnsettled me. All my life. First, as a child I was taken from my home on Earth, across space. And now, of course, I can never come back.ф
уI have some pull in the Citadel. A visa could be arranged.ф
уYou are very kind. I am not sure whether it would help. Kyoto cannot be as I remember it. If it has not changed, surely I have, yes-s-s? But please let me continue. After a few years on Sarai, there was a meteor fall which killed all my family except my brother. A stone from space, do you see? We did not think of it that way, then. The monastery raised us. We got scholarships to an astronautical academy. We made a voyage together as cadets. Have you heard of the Firdawzi disaster?ф
уNo, Iтm afraid not.ф Maclaren poured smoke from his mouth, as a veil against the cosmos.
уCapella is a GO star like Sol, but a giant. The Firdawzi had been long at the innermost planet of the system, a remotecontrolled survey trip. The radiations caused a metal fatigue. No one suspected. On our cruise, the ship suddenly failed. The pilot barely got us into an orbit, after we had fallen a long way toward Capella. There we must wait until rescue came. Many died from the heat. My brother was one of them.ф
Stillness hummed.
уI see,ф said Maclaren at last.
