“I thought perhaps that was so… . Any particular reason?”
“None I can spot. She simply seems skittish.”
“She’s been very busy, of course.”
“Right. I think that, sexually, we’re just not on the same wavelength any longer. Sharp and pungent while it lasted, though.” He stretched lazily and rolled in the grass. “Who was it who said that simple pleasures are the last refuge of the complex?”
“Oscar Wilde.” Carlotta’s voice came from behind them. She approached, apparently having missed the earlier talk. Her dark hair swayed as she looked from Nigel to Nikka.
“I never saw this woman before in my life, Officer,” Nigel said.
“Likely story. Neighbors asked me to come hose you two down.”
“Why not jump in?” Nikka asked.
“Looks like the main event’s over. I always thought gentlemen rose when a lady entered the room.”
“Me? I’m a wizened old anxiety case. No gentleman, either. Never learned to hunt or ride or insult waiters.”
Nikka said, “I’m sorry, we would have waited, but I thought you’d still be working.”
“No problem. Not in the mood.” Carlotta said abruptly, “I ducked out when I got copies of these.” She waved a handful of photographs. “Batch of results from the gravitational lens. Fresh from the noise-eraser program.”
“Ah,” Nigel said, wondering why she had rushed over at precisely this moment, when she knew the two of them would be—but no, that was silly. Could Carlotta know them well enough to guess that Nikka would plan a playful seduction here? Well, he thought grudgingly, maybe so. With a bit better timing, she’d have interrupted them. And though they were still ostensibly on intimate terms, he realized Carlotta’s arrival would have embarrassed them all. Created more friction. And the net outcome would have been—what? Difficult to tell. He wondered if Carlotta knew what she was doing, or why. In any case, he certainly had no idea.
“Planets galore,” Carlotta said. “Around Wolf 359, Ross 154, Luyten 789-6, Sigma 2398, Kapteyn’s Star—everywhere.”
Dim dots near each star. Close-ups revealed rocky spheres, or gas giants, or bleak, Venuslike cloud worlds. “No Earths,” Carlotta noted.
“With so many planets around each star,” Nikka said, “the odds for favorable life sites somewhere nearby are good.”
“So goes the gospel,” Nigel said.
Carlotta said, “There’s a lot of analysis behind it. Data, too.”
“Yes. Perfectly plausible data.”
“Come off it,” Carlotta said. “You want to explain everything, using a couple of minutes of garbled talk with the Snark, none of it verified—”
“Unverified, yes, for want of trying. Ted won’t allocate the resources to interpret the EM language. We could learn a hell of a—”
“God, the computer memory needed to hold all that and process it—I did the study, I should know. Using shipboard systems, we wouldn’t have space left to store a lunch menu.”
Nikka said mildly, “I expect the Earthside teams will—”
“Ha!” Nigel exploded. “They’re busy with Swarmer and Skimmer studies. Banging their heads against the same sort of wall that’s between us and the dolphins. Pointless!”
“Look,” Carlotta said, “Ted worked over my projections real carefully, he conferred with everybody concerned, it was a good decision. They heard you out, they really gave you every consideration. You keep up this cranky griping, everybody’ll start believing what Ted said the other … .” She stopped.
“Ah, yes. Ted’s always hard on people who’ve left the room.”
“And you aren’t?” Carlotta said sourly.
“Can’t stand close-mindedness, is all.”
“You’re more close-minded than Ted, for gossakes!”
Nikka said firmly, “No, he’s not!”
Nigel smiled wanly. “Maybe reality isn’t my strong suit.”
“Ted has to balance pressures,” Carlotta said. “You’re respected, that goes without saying, and if you’d just give him some public support—”
Nigel boomed out in a pompous voice, “Speak into the microphone, just say you’re happy, Ivan, in spite of some regrettable things you’ve done, and we’ll take care of the publicity.”
Carlotta sniffed. “You’re missing the point.”
“Probably. Been off my feed lately. This rack of bones could use a tune-up.”
Nikka said carefully, “Meaning?”
“Look at my last job rating. I’m sure Ted’s memorized it.”
Nikka said, “You’re exaggerating. Ted hasn’t got time—”
“No, he’s right,” Carlotta said. “Ted’s probably ‘building a file,’ as the administrators say.”
Nikka said, “But health problems aren’t grounds for—”
“If a majority of our esteemed crewmates think it is, then it is, period.” Nigel said. His face sagged with an inward-looking fatigue.
Nikka said softly, “They might put you in the Slots, then?”
“Slotting might bring you back up to specs for a manual job,” Carlotta said thoughtfully.
Nigel sighed and shrugged.
“Look.” Carlotta leaned forward. “At a minimum, it’ll make you live longer.”
“And miss most of the voyage to Ross 128.”
“Small price,” Carlotta said. “I don’t think you have to do it, though. You’ve got lots of sentiment behind you. They may all not agree with your theories, but the crew remembers all this started ’way back with the Snark and Mare Marginis and—”
“I’ve told you before, I don’t want to win by pinning on my medals and parading round the ship.”
“You want to convince them, right?” Carlotta said sharply. “Only they see things different. Well—”
“Stop, you two,” Nikka said, lean and lithe and distant on the grass. “Nigel, if you go into the Slots, I’m going with you.”
“What!” Carlotta jumped up.
“I could use some repair myself.”
“That’s not it.” Carlotta’s voice rose. “You want to stay with him even if he’s asleep!”
“My medmon index isn’t very high, either,” Nikka said neutrally.
“You’d leave me behind just to—”
“Bloody hell, must you forever think in terms of yourself?” Nigel jerked his head irritably. “We wouldn’t be slotted for more than a few years at most.”
“A few—! But us, our—”
“I know,” Nikka said soothingly. “I’ve thought of that, and I’m sorry, but I must stay in good physical condition. It’s different when you’re old. Nigel, when he comes out, I won’t be very much use to him if I’m run down and—”
“You—both of you—leave me—”
Nigel nodded. “I have to. If Nikka follows—well, that’s her affair. We each still have some freedom, y’know.”
“But I’ll be alone.”
“It can’t he helped,” Nikka said firmly. “I’m going with him.”
That was all she would ever say about the matter.
PART SIX
2084 Deep Space
One
Nigel spun slowly in the Sleepslot. It was not true sleep, but rather a drifting, aimless dreaming. He felt faint tugs and ripples as the fluids moved him—massaging leathery muscles, caring for soft wrinkled tissues, ensuring a regular flow of blood and oxygen. The fluids kept his metabolic level a fraction above the shutoff point that would bring on death.
It was like an achingly labored swimming, clutched in currents one could only dimly sense. He rested in the wetness, free of the labor of breath, lungs filled with a spongy stuff that fed healing fluids and sparkling oxygen directly into him. His skin shed a snow of flakes and grime, a torrent of impurity. Inside, cellular police searched for renegades.