World's End

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as I released it, and dropped to the floor. A crowd of

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JOAND. VINGE

patrolmen and rowdy offworlders pushed past us, trampling it underfoot.

"Sergeant ..." I felt the inspector's hand fall lightly on my shoulder. I let it stay there by an effort of will.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day--"

"No, Inspector." I faced her again. "I'm all right. My father--my father's been dead for more than two years."

It had taken that long for the message to reach Tiamat, with the sublight time gaps at either end of the stargate.

It had been years since the rituals had been spoken, years since he had joined his ancestors in the peaceful gardens.

And it would be many years more before I could even think about returning to honor him there.

"There's

. . . nothing I can do about it now."

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She frowned slightly, and said, "You can take the time to let yourself feel something." She was a tough, ironic woman--Newhavenese, like most of the force stationed there. I had been her aide for only a few months, since shortly after I arrived. She was more intelligent than most of the Newhavenese seemed to be, but until now

I'd never thought of her as sensitive. I wished fiercely that she hadn't chosen this moment to demonstrate it.

"I don't want to," I whispered.

"What?"

I drew myself up. "I don't want to--to inflict my personal problems on you, Inspector. I can grieve on my own time, if that's necessary."

She glanced upward, appealing to unseen gods. Her lips moved silently, Kharemoughis. "Then the rest of the day is your own time," she said. "That's an order, Sergeant."

I saluted, helpless to do anything but obey. "Yes, ma'am." I started away from her. She leaned down and picked up the transcript. I stopped, turned back, holding out my hand. She gave it to me. "Thank you," I said, Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, Page 53

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trying not to blink.

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WORLD S END

She smiled at me, a sad smile with a meaning I didn't really understand. "Remember the good things," she said. "Those are what last."

I nodded, but the truth was burning my throat like acid. "My father . . . loved me," I mumbled.

"And I

...!..."! shook my head and walked away as quickly as I could.

My father loved me. It filled my head as I went out into the teeming streets of the ancient city of Carbuncle--the jewel, the fester, that I had come so far to see. I walked the streets for hours, but I saw none of its wonders or its corruption. I saw only the past.

As I walked I remembered the exact moment when I

learned that my father loved me. I was standing in the doorway to the sun room, drawn by the rare sound of

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his voice raised in anger. My brothers' voices answered him, whining and resentful by turns. They were arguing about money--an argument that was far from rare.

I stood just out of sight, feeling a familiar ache in my chest at the sound of their quarrel. . .

perversely aching to be a part of it. Third son, youngest by years, I had never been able to escape my birth order or my brothers'

shadow; never able to matter enough to anyone to make them rage at me--

"I cannot believe thou are any sons of mine!" my father shouted. "Why can't thou behave like thy brother, with honor and wisdom! The two of thee do not make one half of him in human value."

I went to the doorway and stared into the green-dappled room. HK and SB looked up at me, and my father turned. I read the truth in all of their eyes, in a moment that seemed to go on and on.

A thousand small things that my father had done, shown me, asked of me, suddenly filled my mind-- things I had ignored, always looking for something more. The walks down to the family shrine, just the two

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