“Note to myself number five thousand three hundred and eight. Never loose the pattern of stripped sycamores against vermilion—“
Katin flicked off the recorder.
“Oh,” Lynceos said. “That was sort of odd—“
“—interesting,” Idas said. “Did you ever figure it out—“
“—he means about the history—“
“—about our time’s historical concept?”
“Well, actually, I did. It’s quite an interesting theory, really. If you just—“
“I imagine it must be very complicated,” Idas said. “I mean—“
“—for people living now to grasp—“
“Surprisingly enough, it isn’t.” (Katin) “All you have to do is realize how we regard—“
“—Maybe for people who live later—“
“—it won’t be so difficult—“
“Really. Haven’t you noticed,” (Again Katin) “how the whole social matrix is looked at as though it—“
“We don’t know much about history.” Lynceos scratched his silver wool. “I don’t think—“
“—we could understand it now—“
“Of course you could!” (Katin encore) “I can explain it very—“
“—Maybe later—“
“—in the future—“
“—it’ll be easier.”
Dark and white smiles bobbed at him suddenly. The twins turned and walked away.
“Hay,” Katin said. “Don’t you …? I mean, I can ex …” Then, “Oh.”
He frowned and put his hands on his hips, watching the twins amble down the corridor. Idas’ black back was a screen for fragmented constellations. After a moment Katin lifted his recorder, flicked the ruby pips and spoke softly:
“Note to myself number twelve thousand eight hundred and ten: Intelligence creates alienation and unhappiness in …”
.” He stopped the recorder. Blinking, he looked after the twins.
“Captain?”
At the top of the steps Lorq dropped his hand from the door and looked down.
The Mouse hooked his thumb through a tear in the side of his pants and scratched his thigh. “Eh … Captain?” Then he took the card out of the sack. “Here’s your sun.”
Rusty brows twisted in shadow.
Yellow eyes dropped their lights at the Mouse.
“I, eh, borrowed it from Tyy. I’ll give it back—“
“Come up here, Mouse.”
“Yes, sir.” He started up the coiled steps. Ripples lapped the pool edge. His image, rising, glittered behind the philodendrons on the wall. Bare sole and boot heel gave his gait syncopation.
Lorq opened the door. They stepped into the captain’s chamber.
The Mouse’s first thought: His room isn’t any bigger than mine.
His second: There’s a lot more in it.
Besides the computers, there were projection screens on the walls, floor, and ceiling. Among the mechanical clutter, nothing personalized the cabin—not even graffiti.
“Let’s see the card.” Lorq sat on the cables coiled over the couch and examined the diorama.
Not having been invited to sit on the couch, the Mouse pushed aside a tool box and dropped cross-legged to the floor.
Suddenly Lorq’s knees fell wide; he stretched his fists; his shoulders shook; the muscles of his face creased. The spasm passed, and he sat up again. He drew a breath that pulled the laces tight on his stomach. “Come sit here.” He patted the edge of the couch. But the Mouse just swung around on the floor so that he sat by Lorq’s knee.
Lorq leaned forward and placed the card on the floor.
“This is the card you stole?” The expression that was his frown wrinkled down his face. (But the Mouse was looking at the card.) “If this were the first expedition I pulled together to plumb this star …” He laughed. “Six trained and crackling men, who had studied the operation hypnotically, knew the timing of the whole business like they knew the beating of their own hearts, functioned closely as the layers in a bimetal strip. Stealing among the crew …?”He laughed again, shaking his head slowly. “I was so sure of them. And the one I was surest of was Dan.” He caught the Mouse’s hair, gently shook the boy’s head. “I like this crew better.” He pointed to the card. “What do you see there, Mouse?”
“Well, I guess … two boys playing under a—“
“Playing?” Lorq asked. “They look as if they’re playing?”
The Mouse sat back and hugged his sack. “What do you see, Captain?”
“Two boys with hands locked for a fight. You see how one is light and the other is dark? I see love against death, light against darkness, chaos against order. I see the clash of all opposites under … the sun. I see Prince and myself.”
“Which is which?”
“I don’t know, Mouse.”
“What sort of person is Prince Red, Captain?”
Lorq’s left fist flopped in the hammock of his right palm. “You saw him on the viewing screen in color and tri-D. You have to ask? Rich as Croesus, a spoiled psychopath; he has one arm and a sister so beautiful I …” Weight and hammock came apart. “You’re from Earth, Mouse. The same world Prince comes from. I’ve visited it many times, but I’ve never lived there. Perhaps you know. Why should someone from Earth who’s had every advantage that could be distilled from the wealth of Draco, boy, youth, and man be …” The voice caught. Weight and hammock again. “Never mind. Take out your hell-harp and play me something. Go on. I want to see and hear.”
The Mouse scrabbled in his sack. One hand on the wooden neck, one sliding beneath curve and polish; he closed his fingers and his mouth and his eyes. Concentration became a frown; then a release. “You say he’s one-armed?”
“Underneath that black glove he so dramatically smashed up the viewer with, there’s nothing but clock-works.”
“That means he’s missing a socket,” the Mouse went on in his rough whisper. “I don’t know how it is where you come from; on Earth that’s about the worst thing that can happen to you. Captain, my people didn’t have any, and Katin back there just got finished explaining how that made me so mean.” The syrynx came out of the sack. “What do you want me to play?” He hazarded a few notes, a few lights.
But—Lorq was staring at the card again. “Just play. We’ll have to plug up soon to come in to the Alkane. Go on. Quick now. Play, I told you.”
The Mouse’s hand fell toward the—
“Mouse?”
– and moved away without striking.