For Love and Glory

XXXI

How often had she stood with her father on the watchtower at Ernhurst while they talked—casually, merrily, sadly, intensely, starkly, always lovingly—just the two of them? Lissa had not kept count, any more than she kept count of her heartbeats.

It hurt to see the hurt on his face. “This is—very sudden, dear,” Davy Windholm said low.

“I only got the message yesterday,” she answered. The invitation to join a new voyage, back to Jonna.

“And you’re accepting? With no questions, hesitations, conditions?” He paused. “I’d been informed of the plan. They’d like to have the Dagmar along. I haven’t mentioned it here because the answer was too obvious. So soon after the black hole business, who’d want to leave home? Nor would the House ever agree to tie up our ship so long.”

“We have others,” she said automatically, uselessly.

“All committed elsewhere, except the Hulda, and of course she’s not only too small but it’d be a downright waste to send her off with a destination like that.”

Perforce Lissa nodded. The exploratory scout could venture into extreme conditions—high radiation backgrounds, deep gravity wells, or less foreseeable hazards—better than Dagmar could, and make planetary landings to boot; but she was meant for preliminary missions, gathering basic data, and had berthing and life support for no more than four crewfolk.

“It didn’t cross my mind,” Davy went on in quiet amazement, “that these people would then approach you personally, or that you’d even consider going.”

“The message to me was from the Gargantuan Karl,” she said. “I’ve told you about him.”

“Oh, yes, a good person. But not human. The expedition will be nonhuman, do you realize that? A consortium of Gargantuans and Xanaduans—with, I understand, some Sklerons, interested in the colonization possibilities. But the main objective, to study that… Forerunner thing.”

“I know. Karl explained.”

“What can you contribute, dear?”

“Nothing to that part, I suppose. However, other kinds of scientists will go too. Pure scientists. A whole world to study! We didn’t make a decent scratch in the surface, our little group.”

Davy attempted a smile. “A deep enough scratch for quite a few research papers and theses in the next several years.”

“I know,” Lissa now snapped. “Though the black hole sensation seems to have driven real, detail-work science out of nearly everybody’s mind, here on Asborg. We should be thankful that a few beings haven’t gone cosmology-crazy but want to learn about matters that can be dealt with.”

“Nonhumans.”

“Yes. Not given to stampeding after the newest fashion like our breed.”

He regarded her for a while before he asked softly, “Are you bitter about your own triumph? In God’s name, why?”

She couldn’t stay irritated with him, nor bring herself to lie to him. “Oh, I’m restless again, and here’s a chance to work it off doing something worthwhile.”

“Already? After all that stress and danger, you don’t want any more peace and quiet”—he gestured at the lovely late-summer landscape—“than the little bit you’ve had?”

“If I don’t grab this opportunity fast, it’ll be gone.”

“I’ve told you before about the trip I was on, away back in my second youth, the one man in a crew of Arzethi. Perfectly decent, yes, fascinating beings, who tried hard for fellowship with me. I may never have made clear to you how lonely I got. And that was for a single year.”

“Karl informs me they hope for two or three humans. Versatility.”

He raised his brows. “Would any besides you come from Asborg?”

“I suppose not,” she said indifferently.

“Then they’ll be foreign to you in their own ways. Besides, I can’t see so few, in a setting like that, not getting on each other’s nerves. More than with the aliens. During five years!”

She had thought about that, and how to cope, but didn’t want to talk about it. “Long enough, maybe, to start actually understanding the biosphere.”

“You’re no biologist.” Did she catch a note of desperation?

She sought to ease him. “No, I’ll play the same role as I did before. I’ve got a bagful of woodcraft skills, and I’ll improve them as regards Jonna. Dad, don’t be afraid for me. I’ll stay careful. I like living, really I do.”

“If it’s wilderness you want to study, Freydis is right next door.”

“I’ve been there, over and over. Have you forgotten?” she couldn’t help throwing at him.

“It’s still far from being well-known,” he persisted forlornly.

She nodded, “Yes. Our sister planet. I could call home every day, take furlough home every couple of months.” Scorn spoke. “Anybody could.”

“And still do good science. But to more purpose. You know I expect the cession of New Halla to your friend Orichalc’s people will soon be approved.”

She tossed her head. “It had better be. We owe him enough. Everybody does.”

“Don’t you want to help them get established?”

“I’m not indispensable for that. Plenty of Asborgans know the region, the whole planet, better than I do.” Her mood began to soften. “Maybe after I get back. Yes, I’ll certainly look in on them then. But here’s a—a challenge for me that I can’t resist.” At once she wished she’d found words less pretentious.

He stood silent. A breeze murmured across the land. Its sunny odors tugged at her from the depths of childhood. She braced herself against them.

“A chance to go away, be away, for those years, don’t you mean?” he asked most quietly. “Altogether away.”

Her eyes stung. “Oh, Dad—”

He nodded. “Like Captain Valen. The hero of the magnificent rescue. He can have any berth he wants. But he’s leaving too. Taking an offer from a company on Akiko, I’ve heard. Humans there, yes, but—also far away. Another language, other lifeways for him to learn.”

Her tenderness congealed. “I imagine he’s sick of the publicity and the fawning and the journalists prying into his life. I certainly am. And maybe he hopes to prove himself.”

Davy’s gaze narrowed. “He didn’t, there at the black holes?”

Lissa clamped her lips together.

“Something happened yonder,” Davy said, gently again, “something that nobody’s speaking about.”

She squared her shoulders and met his eyes. “Some things are nobody else’s business.”

He sighed. “I know you too well to keep arguing with you, dear.” His hand reached for hers. “But if ever you’d like a sympathetic shoulder and a tongue kept on a tight rein, here I’ll be.”

She took his grip and, for a moment, clung. “I know. Give me time, Dad. Only time.”

Time for healing, she thought. No, that’s another smarmy word. Smacks of self-pity. I just need to get out from under and keep busy for a while. A few years. What does that count for, when we’ve all got hundreds or thousands ahead of us?

With luck. Well, you have to assume you’ll be lucky.

Yes, indeed, I’ll be fine. Why, already I can start looking forward, vaguely, to my homecoming. And new surprises.

She didn’t know that they would begin with a new rescue mission.