For Love and Glory

XXIX

Stars, Milky Way, sister galaxies shone in majesty. The black hole was lost to naked-eye sight. Even the cloud from which Dagmar fled was now scarcely more than another gleam in the brightness-crowded dark. The crimson that for minutes had raged and roared about her was become a memory. She had radiated its heat into space. The brutality of five-gee boost lingered only in aches, bruises, exhaustion, nothing that a good rest wouldn’t heal; she flew at gentle half-gee weight.

Memory still echoed. Nor had the ship yet relinquished her booty. Bodies crowded the decks. Pungent odors and sibilant words filled the air. Lissa picked a way among them, bound aft. When she thought some hailed her, she responded with a nod or a wave and passed on. It was all she could do. They had their medics and others tending to the hurt among them. She was ignorant of their requirements, and in any case wrung dry, wanting no more than to creep into her cubicle, draw the bunk sheet over her, and sleep.

Her course took her past the laboratory. Esker saw and shambled to the door. “Milady,” he called in an undertone. She heard urgency and stopped. He beckoned her to enter. They were alone there, the others having gone to their own places. His back was bent and fatigue showed leaden in every gesture. Nonetheless the ugly face grinned.

“What do you want?” she asked.

He rubbed his hands together. “I wanted you to know first, milady.” He leaned close. She was too tired to draw back. He spoke in a near whisper, although no Susaians were in this corridor and probably none but Orichalc knew any Anglay. “As we were finishing the evacuation, milady, I saw one of them carrying a data box, and what’d be in it but their observations? Different model from any of ours, but it had to be a data box. Things were crowded, confused. I shoved in and slipped it right out of that ridiculous straw-fingered hand. The bearer didn’t notice; walking wounded. Nobody did. I’ve got it here, and I’m about to copy off the file. Then I’ll leave the box for them to find, as though it got dropped accidentally. But when the stuff’s translated, we’ll know what they found out, at least this part of what they did. So our efforts paid off that much, didn’t they, milady?”

You little tumor, she thought. I shouldn’t accept this. But I suppose I must. Maybe I should even congratulate you.

He peered at her. “I did well, don’t you think, milady?” he asked. “You’ll put in a good word for me when we get home, won’t you, milady?”

“I’ll stay neutral, if I can. It’s up to you.” She turned and left.

Orichalc, bound forward with his personal kit, met her farther on. They halted. “How fare you, honored one?” he greeted. Under the flatness of the trans, did she hear concern? “I have not seen you since you went to aid in the rescue.”

“I’m all right,” she said. “Everybody is, or as much as could be expected, I guess. You?”

“Sh-s-s, I hold back. The Susaian officers know that a member of their race has been aboard this ship, but they know no more than that. Captain Valen agrees it is best they not meet me. On his advice, I seek the Number Two hold.”

Slightly surprised, Lissa noticed herself bridle. “I should hope, after what we’ve done, they won’t cause trouble.”

“No, but why provoke emotions? I can bide my time. Soon we make rendezvous and transfer our passengers. After that, in view of our condition and the delta vee we have expended, Captain Valen says we shall go straight home. Surely other researchers will come from Asborg, and from many more worlds.”

“I don’t imagine those beings are so grateful to us they’ll make their discoveries public.”

“Would you in their place, honored one?”

Lissa laughed a bit. “No, probably not.” Though in the long run, now that the great secret is out, everybody will know everything that can be known about it.

She stroked Orichalc’s head. “Go rest, then,” she said. “Pleasant dreams.”

“I fear yours will not be,” he replied.

Her hand froze where it was. After a space she said, “Well, of course you feel what I’m feeling.”

“I feel that you are woeful. I wish I could help.”

“And, and him?”

“He was full of pride and gladness, until there came a dread I believe was on your account. That was the last I saw of him, about a quarter hour ago.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I do not worry much about you, honored one. You are undaunted. He— But go, since that is your wish. May the time be short until your happier day.”

Lissa walked on.

In the crew section, the assistant physicists had already closed their doors and must be sound asleep. Deck, bulkheads, overhead reached gray and empty, save for the tall form that waited.

She jarred to a stop. They stood for a time. Air rustled around them. “Lissa,” Valen said finally.

“I should think you’d be resting, or else in conference with Moonhorn and Ironbright,” she stated.

“This is more important.” He made as if to approach her, but curbed the motion. “Lissa, why are you here? Why not the cabin? When you didn’t show, I asked Dagmar, and—”

“If you please,” she said, “I am very tired and need some rest of my own.”

Bewilderment ravaged the haggard features. “Lissa, what’s wrong? We saved those beings, we’re safe ourselves, why do you look at me that way?”

Get this over with. “You saved them. It was your decision, your will.”

“But— No, wait.” He swallowed, straightened his shoulders, and said, “I see. You’re angry because I put your life at risk. No, that’s unfair. Because I gambled with everybody’s. Including mine.”

“No,” she sighed, “you do not see. It’s because of why you did.”

He stared.

“Worse than staking us, you staked what we’d gained here for our people,” she told him. “It was in fact a crazy thing to do, from any normal viewpoint. Maybe, morally, it was justified. Seven lives, a valuable ship, and an invaluable store of knowledge, against half a hundred other lives. We did win through, and we may have gotten some goodwill that our leaders can draw on in future negotiations. But… Valen, none of this was what you had in mind. Not really. Was it?”

“What do you mean?” she barely heard.

She shook her head, like one who remembers a sorrow. “You redeemed yourself. You met again with the Terror you’d run from, and this time you overcame it, first in your spirit, then in reality. Even if you’d died, you’d have won what mattered, the respect of your peers back, and of yourself.

“I’d come to know you. Orichalc’s now confirmed my understanding, but it wasn’t necessary. I knew. What mattered to you above all else—the only thing that mattered—was your own redemption.”

“No,” he croaked, and reached for her.

She denied the wish to lay her head on his breast. “Yes,” she said. “Oh, never fear. You’ll receive the honors you’ve earned, and I’ll speak never a word against them. But I can’t stay with any creature so selfish. Please leave me alone.”

She dodged by him, into her cubicle, and shut the door. The light came on. She doused it and lay down in the kindly darkness.