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one day was to go to the museum. They had already installed a complete holo
set of Shed's find. I played them over two or three times, just to see what
seventeen million five hundred and fifty thousand dollars looked like. It
mostly looked like irrelevant junk. That was when each piece was displayed on
its own. There were about ten little prayer fans, proving, I guess, that the
Heechee liked to include a few art objects even in a tire-repair kit. Or
whatever the rest of it was: things like tri-bladed screwdrivers with flexible
shafts, things like socket wrenches, but made of some soft material; things
like electric test probes, and things like nothing you ever saw before. Spread
out item by item they seemed pretty random, but the way they fit into each
other, and into the flat nested boxes that made up the set, was a marvel of
packing economy. Seventeen million five hundred and fifty thousand dollars,
and if I had stayed with Shed I could have been one of the shareholders.
Or one of the corpses.
I stopped off at Klara's place and hung around for a while, but she wasn't
home. It wasn't her usual time for being shrunk. On the other hand, I had lost
track of Klara's usual times. She had found another kid to mother when its
parents were busy: a little black girl, maybe four years old, who had come up
with a mother who was an astrophysicist and a father who was an exobiologist.
And what else Klara had found to keep herself busy I was not sure.
I drifted back to my own room, and Louise Forehand peered out of her door and
followed me in. "Rob," she said urgently, "do you know anything about a big
danger bonus coming up?"
I made room for her on the pad. "Me? No. Why would I?" Her pale, muscular face
was tauter than ever, I could not tell why.
"I thought maybe you'd heard something. From Dane Metchnikov, maybe. I know
you're close to him, and I've seen him talking to Klara in the schoolroom." I
didn't respond to that, I wasn't sure what I wanted to say. "There's a rumor
that there's a science trip coming up that's pretty hairy. And I'd like to
sign on for it."
I put my arm around her. "What's the matter, Louise?"
"They posted Willa dead." She began to cry.
I held her for a while and let her cry it out. I would have comforted her if I
had known how, but what comfort was there to give? After a while I got up and
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rummaged around in my cupboard, looking for a joint Klara had left there a
couple days before. I found it, lighted it, passed it to her.
Louise took a long, hard pull, and held it for quite a while. Then she puffed
out. "She's dead, Rob," she said. She was over crying now, somber but relaxed;
even the muscles around her neck and up and down her spine were tension-free.
"She might come back yet, Louise."
She shook her head. "Not really. The Corporation posted her ship lost. It
might come back, maybe. Willa won't be alive in it. Their last stretch of
rations would have run out two weeks ago." She stared into space for a moment,
then sighed and roused herself
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Classifieds.
I NEED your courage to go for any halfmil plus bonus. Don't ask me. Order me.
87-299.
PUBLIC AUCTION unclaimed personal effects nonreturnees. Corporation Area
Charlie Nine, 1300--1700 tomorrow.
YOUR DEBTS are paid when you achieve Oneness. He/She is Heechee and He/She
Forgives.
Church of the Marvelously Maintained Motorcycle. 88-344.
MONOSEXUALS ONLY for mutual sympathy only. No touching. 87-913.
----------------------------------------
to take another pull on the joint. "I wish Sess were here," she said, leaning
back and stretching; I could feel the play of muscles against the palm of my
hand.
The dope was hitting her, I could see. I knew it was hitting me. It wasn't any
of your usual Gateway windowbox stuff, sneaked in among the ivy. Klara had got
hold of pure Naples Red from one of the cruiser boys, shade-grown on the
slopes of Mount Vesuvius between the rows of vines that made Lacrimae Cristi
wine. She turned toward me and snuggled her chin into my neck. "I
really love my family," she said, calmly enough. "I wish we had hit lucky
here. We're about due for some luck."
"Hush, honey," I said, nuzzling into her hair. Her hair led to her ear, and
her ear led to her lips, and step by step we were making love in a timeless,
gentle, stoned way. It was very relaxed. Louise was competent, unanxious, and
accepting. After a couple of months of Klara's nervous paroxysms it was like
coming home to Mom's chicken soup. At the end she smiled, kissed me, and
turned away. She was very still, and her breathing was even. She lay silent
for a long time, and it wasn't until I realized that my wrist was getting damp
that I knew she was crying again.
"I'm sorry, Rob," she said when I began to pat her. "It's just that we've
never had any luck. Some days I can live with that fact, and some days not.
This is one of the bad ones."
"You will."
"I don't think so. I don't believe it anymore."
"You got here, didn't you? That's pretty lucky."
She twisted herself around to face me, her eyes scanning mine. I said, "I
mean, think of how many billion people would give their left testicles to be
here."
Louise said slowly, "Rob--" She stopped. I started to speak but she put her
hand over my lips. "Rob," she said, "do you know how we managed to get here?"
"Sure. Sess sold his airbody."
"We sold more than that. The airbody brought a little over a hundred thousand.
That wasn't enough for even one of us. We got the money from Hat."
"Your son? The one that died?"
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She said, "Hat had a brain tumor. They caught it in time, or anyway, almost in
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