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through the stillness. "Have another drink while I explain to you the
error of your ways."
The officers' lounge was deserted. Persis had commandeered from
the bar a demi of port but had not turned on the fluoros. Here in the
veranda, enough light came through the viewport which stretched
from deck to overhead. It was soft and shadowy, caressed a cheek or a
lock of hair and vanished into susurrant dark.
Stars were the source, uncountable throngs of them, white, blue,
yellow, green, red, cold and unwinking against an absolute night. And
the Milky Way was a shining smoke and the nebulae and the sister
galaxies glimmered at vision's edge. That was a terrible beauty.
Flandry was far too conscious of her eyes and of the shape enclosed
by thin, slightly phosphorescent pajamas, where she faced him in her
lounger. He sat stiff on his. "Yes," he said, "yonder bright one, you're
right, Donna, a nova. What & uh & what Saxo's slated to become
before long."
"Really?" Her attentiveness flattered him.
"Yes. F-type, you know. Evolves faster than the less massive suns
like Sol, and goes off the main sequence more spectacularly. The red
giant stage like Betelgeuse is short then bang."
"But those poor natives!"
Flandry made a forced-sounding chuckle. "Don't worry, Donna. It
won't happen for almost a billion years, according to every
spectroscopic indication. Plenty of time to evacuate the planet."
"A billion years." She shivered a little. "Too big a number. A billion
years ago, we were still fish in the Terran seas, weren't we? All the
numbers are too big out here."
"I, uh, guess I'm more used to them." His nonchalance didn't quite
come off.
He could barely see how her lips curved upward. "I'm sure you
are," she said. "Maybe you can help me learn to feel the same way."
His tunic collar was open but felt tight anyhow. "Betelgeuse is an
interesting case," he said. "The star expanded slowly by mortal
standards. The autochthons could develop an industrial culture and
move out to Alfzar and the planets beyond. They didn't hit on the
hyperdrive by themselves, but they had a high-powered
interplanetary society when Terrans arrived. If we hadn't provided a
better means, they'd have left the system altogether in sublight ships.
No real rush. Betelgeuse won't be so swollen that Alfzar becomes
uninhabitable for another million years or better. But they had their
plans in train. A fascinating species, the Betelgeuseans."
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"True." Persis took a sip of wine, then leaned forward. One leg,
glimmering silky in the starlight, brushed his. "However," she said, "I
didn't lock onto you after dinner in hopes of a lecture."
"Why, uh, what can I do for you, Donna? Glad to, if " Flandry
drained his own goblet with a gulp. His pulse racketed.
"Talk to me. About yourself. You're too shy."
"About me?" he squeaked. "Whatever for? I mean, I'm nobody."
"You're the first young hero I've met. The others, at home, they're
old and gray and crusted with decorations. You might as well try to
make conversation with Mount Narpa. Frankly, I'm lonesome on this
trip. You're the single one I could relax and feel human with. And
you've hardly shown your nose outside your office."
"Uh, Donna, Commander Abrams has kept me busy. I didn't want
to be unsociable, but, well, this is the first time he's told me I could go
off duty except to sleep. Uh, Lord Hauksberg "
Persis shrugged. "He doesn't understand. All right, he's been good
to me and without him I'd probably be an underpaid dancer on Luna
yet. But he does not understand."
Flandry opened his mouth, decided to close it again, and recharged
his goblet.
"Let's get acquainted," Persis said gently. "We exist for such a short
time at best. Why were you on Starkad?"
"Orders, Donna."
"That's no answer. You could simply have done the minimum and
guarded jour neck. Most ot them seem to. You must have some belief
in what you're doing."
"Well I don't know, Donna. Never could keep out of a good scrap, I
suppose."
She sighed. "I thought better of you, Dominic."
"Beg pardon?"
"Cynicism is boringly fashionable. I didn't think you would be
afraid to say mankind is worth fighting for."
Flandry winced. She had touched a nerve. "Sort of thing's been said
too often, Donna. The words have gone all hollow. I & I do like some
ancient words. ' & the best fortress is to be found in the love of the
people.' From Machiavelli."
"Who? Never mind. I don't care what some dead Irishman said. I
want to know what you care about. You are the future. What did Terra
give you, for you to offer your life in return?"
"Well, uh, places to live. Protection. Education."
"Stingy gifts," she said. "You were poor?"
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"Not really, Donna. Illegitimate son of a petty nobleman. He sent
me to good schools and finally the Naval Academy."
"But you were scarcely ever at home?"
"No. Couldn't be. I mean, my mother was in opera then. She had
her career to think of. My father's a scholar, an encyclopedist, and,
uh, everything else is sort of incidental to him. That's the way he's
made. They did their duty by me. I can't complain, Donna."
"At least you won't." She touched his hand. "My name is Persis."
Flandry swallowed.
"What a hard, harsh life you've had," she mused. "And still you'll
fight for the Empire."
"Really, it wasn't bad & Persis."
"Good. You progress." This time her hand lingered.
"I mean, well, we had fun between classes and drills. I'm afraid I
set some kind of record for demerits. And later, a couple of training
cruises, the damnedest things happened."
She leaned closer. "Tell me."
He spun out the yarns as amusingly as he was able.
She cocked her head at him. "You were right fluent there," she said.
"Why are you backward with me?"
He retreated into his lounger. "I I, you see, never had a chance to,
uh, learn how to, well, behave in circumstances like "
She was so near that beneath perfume he caught the odor of
herself. Her eyes were half closed, lips parted. "Now's your chance,"
she whispered. "You weren't afraid of anything else, were you?"
Later, in his cabin, she raised herself to one hand and regarded him
for a long moment. Her hair spilled across his shoulder. "And I
thought I was your first," she said.
"Why, Persis!" he grinned.
"I felt so And every minute this evening you knew exactly what
you were doing."
"I had to take action," he said. "I'm in love with you. How could I
help being?"
"Do you expect me to believe that? Oh, hell, just for this voyage I
will. Come here again."
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10
Ardaig, the original capital, had grown to surround that bay where
the River Oiss poured into the Wilwidh Ocean; and its hinterland was
now megalopolis eastward to the Hun foothills. Nonetheless it
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