Dismal Light Page 2

  The visitor bell rang.

  It wasn't raining this time, in fact the cloud cover showed signs of breaking up for the first time in months. But she blew in as though there was a storm at her back again, anyway.

  "You've got to get out," she said. "It's imminent! Any second now it could-"

  I slapped her.

  She covered her face and stood there and shook for a minute.

  "Okay, I was hysterical," she said, "but it's true."

  "I realized that the first time you told me. Why are you still around?"

  "Don't you know, damn you?"

  "Say it," I said, listening attentively.

  "Because of you, of course! Come away! Now!"

  "I've almost got it," I said. "Tonight or tomorrow, possibly. I'm too close now to give up."

  "You asked me to marry you," she said. "All right, I will - if you'll grab your toothbrush right now and get out of here."

  "Maybe a week ago I would have said yes. Not now, though."

  "The last ships are leaving. There are less than a hundred people on Dismal right now, and they'll be gone before sundown. How will you get away after that, even if you decide to go?"

  "I won't be forgotten," I said.

  "No, that's true." She smiled, slightly, crookedly. "The last vessel will run a last-minute check. Their computer will match the list of the evacuees with the Dismal Directory. Your name will show up, and they'll send a special search vessel down, just for you. That'll make you feel important, won't it? Really wanted. Then they'll haul you away, whether you're ready or not, and that'll be it."

  "By then I might have the answer."

  "And if not?"

  "We'll see."

  I handed her my handkerchief then and kissed her when she least expected it - while she was blowing her nose - which made her stamp her foot and say an unladylike word.

  Then, "Okay, I'll stay with you until they come for you," she said. "Somebody's got to look after you until a guardian can be appointed."

  "I've got to check some seedlings now," I said. "Excuse me," and I pulled on my hip boots and went out the back way, strapping on my dart gun as I went.

  I shot two snakes and a water tiger - two beasts before and one after the seedlings. The clouds fell apart while I was out there, and pieces of bloody Betelgeuse began to show among them. The robots bore the carcasses away, and I didn't stop to measure them this time.

  Susan watched me in the lab, keeping silent for almost an entire hour, until I told her, "Perhaps tomorrow's sample ..."

  She looked out through the window and up into the burning heavens.

  "Iron," she said, and there were tears on her cheeks.

  Iron. Well, it's something you can't just laugh off. You can't make it go away by ignoring it. It only goes away after its own fashion.

  For ages upon ages, Orion's insignia had burned hydrogen in its interior, converting it to helium, accumulating that helium. After a time the helium core began to contract, and the helium nuclei fused, formed carbon, produced the extra energy Orion had wanted to keep his uniform looking snappy. Then, to keep up a good front when that trick began to slip, he built up oxygen and neon from the carbon, increasing the temperature of the core. Afraid that would fail him, he moved on to magnesium and silicon. Then iron. Certain spectroscopy techniques had let us see what was going on at the center. General Orion had used up all his tricks but one. Now he had no recourse but to convert the iron back into helium by drawing upon the gravitational field of his star. This would require a rather drastic and rapid shrinking process. It would give him a blaze of glory all right, and then a white dwarf of an insignia to wear forevermore. Two hundred seventy years later the nova would become visible on Earth, and he'd still look pretty good for a little while, which I guess meant something. The military mind is funny that way.

  "Iron," I repeated.

  They came for me the following morning, two of them, but I wasn't ready to go yet. They set their ship down on the hill to the north of me and disembarked.

  They wore deep-space gear, and the first one bore a rifle. The man behind him carried a "sniffer," a machine that can track a man down on the basis of his personal body chemistry. It was effective for a range of about a mile. It indicated the direction of the quonset, because I was between them and it.

  I lowered my binoculars and waited. I drew my splinter gun. Susan thought I was in the garden. Well, I had been. But the minute that thing came down and settled between the blaze and the mists, I headed toward it. I took cover at the end of the field and waited.

  I had my gear with me, in expectation of just such a visit. See, the B.O.

  machine can't sniff you out under the water.

  They must have slowed when they lost the scent, but eventually I saw their shadows pass above me.

  I surfaced, there in the canal, pushed back my mask, drew a bead and said,

  "Stop! Drop the gun or I'll shoot!"

  The man with the rifle turned quickly, raising it, and I shot him in the arm.

  "I warned you," I said, as the rifle fell to the trail and he clutched at his arm. "Now kick it over the edge into the water!"

  "Mister, you've got to get out of here!" he said. "Betelgeuse could blow any minute! We came to get you!"

  "I know it. I'm not ready to go."

  "You won't be safe till you're in hyperspace."

  "I know that, too. Thanks for the advice, but I'm not taking it. Kick that damn rifle into the water! Now!"

  He did.

  "Okay, that's better. If you're so hot on taking someone back with you, there's a girl named Susan Lennert down in the quonset. Her you can push around. Go get her and take her away with you. Forget about me."

  The man holding his arm looked to the other who nodded.

  "She's on the list," he said.

  "What's wrong with you, mister?" the first one asked. "We're trying to save your life."

  "I know it, I appreciate it. Don't bother."

  "Why?"

  "That's my business. You'd better get moving." I gestured toward Betelgeuse with the barrel of my pistol.

  The second man licked his lips, and the first one nodded. Then they turned and headed toward the quonset. I followed all the way, since they were now unarmed and the garden pests weren't.

  She must have put up a fuss, because they had to drag her off, between them. I stayed out of sight, but I covered them all the way back to the ship and watched until it lifted off and vanished in the bright sky.

  Then I went inside, gathered up the records, changed my clothes, went back outside and waited.

  Were my eyes playing tricks on me, or did Betelgeuse flicker for just a second?

  Perhaps it was an atmospheric disturbance.

  A water tiger broke the surface and cut a furrow straight toward me, where I stood upon the trail. I shot it, and a snake appeared from somewhere and began eating it. Then two more snakes showed up, and there was a fight. I had to shoot one of them.

  Betelgeuse seemed to brighten above me, but apprehension could account for that seeming. I stood right there and waited. Now my point would either be proved or disproved, once and for all time, so far as I was concerned; and, either way, I'd rest afterward.

  It wasn't until much later that afternoon, as I drew bead upon a rearing water snake and heard his voice say, "Hold your fire," and I did, that I realized just how petty I might have been.

  The snake slowly lowered its great bulk and slithered past me. I didn't turn. I couldn't. It was so long and kept slithering by, and I kept wondering, but I couldn't turn around.

  Then a hand fell upon my shoulder, and I had to; and there he was, and I felt about three inches tall.

  The snake kept rubbing up against his boots and turning to do it again.

  "Hello," I said, and, "I'm sorry." He was smoking a cigar and was maybe five feet eight inches tall, with nondescript hair and dark eyes, when I finally brought myself to look into them. I'd almost forgotten. It had been so long. I
could never forget his voice, though.

  "Don't be sorry. There's no need. You had to prove something."

  "Yes. She was right, though-"

  "Have you proven it?"

  "Yes. You're not what they say you are, and you came here for one reason - me."

  "That's right."

  "I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have expected it of you. I had to know, though, I just had to - but I shouldn't have."

  "Of course you should. Maybe I needed it, too, to prove it to myself, as much as you needed to see it. There are some things that should mean more than life to a man. Did you find what you were looking for in your garden?"

  "Days ago, sir."

  " 'Sir' isn't what you used to call me."

  "I know ..."

  "You had to see how much Francis Sandow cared for his son. Okay, I spit on Betelgeuse. I blow smoke rings back at it. Now I'm going to leave it. The Model T is parked on the other side of the hill. Come on, we're going to make it."

  "I know that, Dad."

  "Thanks."

  I picked up my luggage.

  "I met a nice girl I'd like to tell you about ..." I said, and I did, while we walked.

  And the snake followed after, and he wouldn't turn it away. He brought it aboard, its bulk coiled about the cabin, and he took it along, out of that lopsided Eden. I'll never forget that he did that, either.

  FB2 document info

  Document ID: 71dfc24e-6c1f-1014-8fd8-dab55969c65f

  Document version: 1

  Document creation date: 12.06.2008

  Created using: Text2FB2 software

  Document authors :

  traum

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