"Rhoda."
"What, dear? The entire Vega group could be swayed, if a presumption could be established about
Thorby's birth . . . if an eligible daughter of theirs --"
"Rhoda!"
"I was talking, dear."
"For a moment, I'll talk. The Captain. Wife, he's fraki blood. Furthermore, Baslim knew it . . . and laid
a strict injunction on me to help him find his family. I had hoped -- yes, and believed -- that the files
would show that Baslim was mistaken." He frowned and chewed his lip. "A Hegemonic cruiser is due
here in two weeks. That ought to give you time to assure yourself that I can search files as well as any
clerk."
"What do you mean?"
"Is there doubt? Debts are always paid . . . and there is one more payment due."
She stared. "Husband, are you out of your mind?"
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"I don't like it any better than you do. He's not only a fine boy; he's the most brilliant tracker we've
ever had."
"Trackers!" she said bitterly. "Who cares about that? Fjalar, if you think that I will permit one of my
sons to be turned over to fraki --" She choked up.
"He is fraki."
"He is not. He is Sisu, just as I am. I was adopted, so was he. We are both Sisu, we will always be."
"Have it your way. I hope he will always be Sisu in his heart. But the last payment must be made."
"That debt was paid in full, long ago!"
"The ledger doesn't show it."
"Nonsense! Baslim wanted the boy returned to his family. Some fraki family -- if fraki have families.
So we gave him a family -- our own, clan and sept. Is that not better payment than some flea-bitten fraki
litter? Or do you think so little of Sisu?"
She glared up at him, and the Krausa thought bitterly that there must be something to the belief that the
pure blood of the People produced better brains. In dickering with fraki he never lost his temper. But
Mother -- and now Rhoda -- could always put him in the wrong.
At least Mother, hard as she had been, had never asked the impossible. But Rhoda . . . well, Wife
was new to the job. He said tensely, "Chief Officer, this injunction was laid on me personally, not on
Sisu. I have no choice."
"So? Very well, Captain -- well speak of it later. And now, with all respect to you, sir, I have work to
do."
Thorby had a wonderful time at the Gathering but not as much fun as he expected; repeatedly Mother
required him to help entertain chief officers of other ships. Often a visitor brought a daughter or
granddaughter along and Thorby had to keep the girl busy while the elders talked. He did his best and
even acquired facility in the half-insulting small talk of his age group. He learned something that he called
dancing which would have done credit to any man with two left feet and knees that bent backwards. He
could now put his arm around a girl when music called for it without chills and fever.
Mother's visitors quizzed him about Pop. He tried to be polite but it annoyed him that everyone knew
more about Pop than he did -- except the things that were important.
But it did seem that duty could be shared. Thorby realized that he was junior son, but Fritz was
unmarried, too. He suggested that if Fritz were to volunteer, the favor could be returned later.
Fritz gave a raucous laugh. "What can you offer that can repay me for dirtside time at Gathering?"
"Well . . ."
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"Precisely. Seriously, old knucklehead, Mother wouldn't listen, even if I were insane enough to offer.
She says you, she means you." Fritz yawned. "Man, am I dead! Little red-head off the Saint Louis
wanted to dance all night. Get out and let me sleep before the banquet."
"Can you spare a dress jacket?"
"Do your own laundry. And cut the noise."
But on this morning one month after grounding Thorby was hitting dirt with Father, with no chance that
Mother would change their minds; she was out of the ship. It was the Day of Remembrance. Services did
not start until noon but Mother left early for something to do with the election tomorrow.
Thorby's mind was filled with other matters. The services would end with a memorial to Pop. Father
had told him that he would coach him in what to do, but it worried him, and his nerves were not soothed
by the fact that Spirit of Sisu would be staged that evening.
His nerves over the play had increased when he discovered that Fritz had a copy and was studying it.
Fritz had said gruffly, "Sure, I'm learning your part! Father thought it would be a good idea in case you
fainted or broke your leg. I'm not trying to steal your glory; it's intended to let you relax -- if you can relax
with thousands staring while you smooch Loeen."
"Well, could you?"
Fritz looked thoughtful. "I could try. Loeen looks cuddly. Maybe I should break your leg myself."
"Bare hands?"
"Don't tempt me. Thorby, this is just precaution, like having two trackers. But nothing less than a
broken leg can excuse you from strutting your stuff."
Thorby and his Father left Sisu two hours before the services. Captain Krausa said, "We might as well
enjoy ourselves. Remembrance is a happy occasion if you think of it the right way -- but those seats are
hard and it's going to be a long day."
"Uh, Father . . . just what is it I'll have to do when it comes time for Pop -- for Baslim?"
Nothing much. You sit up front during the sermon and give responses in the Prayer for the Dead. You
know how, don't you?"
"I'm not sure."
"I'll write it out for you. As for the rest . . . well, you'll see me do the same for my Mother -- your
Grandmother. You watch and when it comes your turn, you do the same."
"All right, Father."
"Now let's relax."
To Thorby's surprise Captain Krausa took a slideway outside the Gathering, then whistled down a
ground car. It seemed faster than those Thorby had seen on Jubbul and almost as frantic as the Losians.
They reached the rail station with nothing more than an exchange of compliments between their driver
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and another, but the ride was so exciting that Thorby saw little of the City of Artemis.
He was again surprised when Father bought tickets. "Where are we going?"
"A ride in the country." The Captain glanced at his watch. "Plenty of time."
The monorail gave a fine sensation of speed. "How fast are we going. Father?"
"Two hundred kilometers an hour, at a guess." Krausa had to raise his voice.
"It seems faster."
"Fast enough to break your neck. That's as fast as a speed can be."
They rode for half an hour. The countryside was torn up by steel mills and factories for the great yards,
but it was new and different; Thorby stared and decided that the Sargon's reserve was a puny enterprise
compared with this. The station where they got off lay outside a long, high wall; Thorby could see space
ships beyond it. "Where are we?"
"Military field. I have to see a man -- and today there is just time." They walked toward a gate.
Krausa stopped, looked around; they were alone. "Thorby --"
"Yes, Father?"
"Do you remember the message from Baslim you delivered to me?"
"Sir?"
"Can you repeat it?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]