He put his book on the tableўshe recognized the title, Kiplingтs Poems, whoever Kipling had beenўand pointed at a shelf. уFetch the text and sit down.ф
Something flared in the girl. She doubled her fists. уNo.ф
уWhat?ф The leather face turned in search of her.
уI am not going to study any more English.ф
уNotўф Magnus peered as if she were a specimen from another planet. уDonтt you feel well?ф
She bit off the words, one after another: уI have better ways to spend my time than learning a dead language.ф
уDead?ф cried the man. She felt his rage lift in the air between them. уThe language of fifty millionўф
уFifty million ignorant provincials, on exhausted lands between bombed-out cities,ф she said. уYou canтt step outside the
British Isles or a few pockets on the North American coast and have it understood. You canтt read a single modern author or scientist or . . . or anybody . . . in EnglishўI say itтs dead! A walking corpse!ф
уYour own husbandтs language!ф he bawled at her, half rising.
уDo you think he ever spoke it to anyone but you, once heтd heтd escaped?ф she flung back. уDid you believe . . . if
David ever returns from that ship you made him go on .
and we go to Ramaўdid you imagine weтd speak the language of a dying race? On a new world?ф
SHE felt the tears as they whipped down her face, she gulped after breath amidst terror. The old man was so hairy, so huge. When he stood up, the single radiglobe and the wan firelight threw his shadow across her and choked a whole corner of the room with it. His head bristled against the ceiling.
уSo now your husbandтs race is dying,ф he said like a gun. уWhy did you marry him, if he was that effete?ф
уHe isnтt!ф she called out. The walls wobbled around her. уYou are! Sitting here in your dreams of the past, when your people ruled Earthўa past weтre well out of1. David was going where . . . where the future is!ф
уI see,ф Magnus Ryerson turned half away from her. He jammed both fists into his pockets, looked down at the floor and rumbled his words to someone elseўnot her.
уI know. Youтre like the others, brought up to hate the West because it was once your master. Your teacher. The white man owned this planet a few centuries ago. Our sins then will follow us for the next thousand years . . . till your people fail in their turn, and the ones you raised up take revenge for the help they got. Well, Iтm not going to apologize for my ancestors. Iтm proud of them. We were no more vicious than any other men, and we gave . . . even on the deathbed of our civilization, we gave you the stars.ф
His voice rose until it roared. уAnd weтre not dead yet! Do you think this miserable Protectorate is a society? It isnтt! Itтs not even a decent barbarism. Itтs a glorified garrison. Itтs one worshipping the status quo and afraid to look futureward. I
went to space because my people once went to sea. I gave my sons to space, and youтll give yours to space, because thatтs where the next civilization will be! And youтll learn the history and the language of our peopleўyour peopleўyouтll learn what it means to be one of us!ф
His words rang away into emptiness. For a while only the wind and a few tiny flames had voice. Down on the strand, the sea worried the island like a terrier with a rat.
Tamara said finally: уI already know what it means. It cost me David, but I know.ф
He faced her again, lowered his head and stared as if at an enemy.
уYou murdered him,ф she said, not loudly. уYou sent him to a dead sun to die. Because youўф
уYouтre overwrought,ф he broke in with tight-held anger. уI urged him to try just one space expedition. And this one was important. It could have meant a deal to science. He would have been proud afterward, whatever he did for a career, to say, ╬I was on the Cross.тф
уSo he should die for his pride?ф she said. уItтs as senseless a reason as the real one. But Iтll tell you why you really made him go . . . and if you deny you forced him, Iтll say you lie! You couldnтt stand the idea that one child of yours had broken awayўwas not going to be wrenched into your imageўhad penetrated this obscene farce of space exploration, covering distance for its own sake, as if there were some virtue in a large number of kilometers. David was going to live as nature meant him to live, on a living soil, with untanked air to breathe and with mountains to walk on instead of a spinning coffin . . . and his children would too . . . we would have been happy! And that was what you couldnтt stand to have happen!ф
Magnus grinned without humor. уThereтs a lot of meaningless noise for a symbolics professorтs daughter to make,ф he said. уTo begin at the end, what proof have you we were meant to be happy?ф
уWhat proof have you we were meant to jump across lightyears?ф she spat. уItтs another way of running from yourselfў no more. Itтs not even a practical thing. If the ships only looked for planets to colonize, I could understand. But . . . the Cross
herself was aimed for three giants! She was diverted to a black clinker! And now David is dead . . . for what? Scientific curiosity? Youтre not a research scientist, neither was he, and you know it. Wealth? He wasnтt being paid more than he could earn on Earth. Glory? Few enough people on Earth care about exploration; not many more on Rama; he, not at all. Adventure? You can have more adventure in an hourтs walk through a forest than in a year on a spaceship. I say you murdered your son because you saw him becoming sane!ф
уNow thatтs enough,ф growled Magnus. He took a step toward her. уIтve heard enough out of you. In my own house. And I never did hold with this new-fangled notion of letting a woman yapўф
уStand back!ф she yelled. уIтm not your wife!ф
He halted. The lines in his face grew suddenly blurred. He raised his artificial hand as if against a blow.
уYouтre my sonтs wife,ф he said, quite gently. уYouтre a Ryerson too . . . now.ф
уNot if this is what it means.ф She had found the resolution she sought. She went to the wall and took her cloak off its peg. уYouтll lend me your aircar for a hop to Stornoway, I trust. I will send it back on auto-pilot and get transport for myself from there.ф
уBut where are you going?ф His voice was like a hurt childтs. уI donтt know,ф she snapped. уTo some place with a bearable climate. Davidтs salary is payable to me till heтs declared dead, and then there will be a pension. When Iтve waited long enough to be sure he wonтt come back, Iтm going to Rama.ф
уBut, lass . . . proprietyўф
уPropriety be damned. Iтd rather have Davidтs child, alive.ф She slipped her boots back on, took a flashlight from the cupboard, and went out the door. As she opened it, the wind came straight in and hit Magnus across the face.
XIII.
уIn the land of Chinchanchou,
Where the winds blow tender
From a sea like purple wine
Foaming to defend her,
Lives a princess beautiful
(May the gods amend her!) Little known for virtue, but
Of most female gender.ф
AS he came around the gyro housing and pulled himself forward to the observation deck, David Ryerson heard
