“We can certainly use some of those here. Where are you from, Behrooz?”
“The Opik Harvester.”
“Ah. Such a dull place—I would never want to live there. And you are a communications expert? How impressive.” Andromeda Diconis was still holding Bey’s hand, but it was Sylvia she spoke to next. “I’m sure he is an expert on many things. But my dear Sylvia, whatever happened to your other friend? What was his name, Paul?”
“Paul Chu. I suppose you didn’t hear. He disappeared on a mission to the Halo.”
“Oh, yes, now you mention it, I did hear that. But I thought he came back. Someone here said they’d seen him just a week or two ago. Anyway, we don’t want to talk about him, do we?” Andromeda finally released Bey’s hand and reached up to straighten his collar. Her fingers ran over the hollow of his throat. “Not when you’ve been able to make new friends, Sylvia. And very attractive friends, too. I’ll tell you what, I’m going to stay here and have something to eat. Would you and Behrooz”—Bey earned a dazzling smile—“like to wait for me, and then we can all go to the concert along the corridor?”
Sylvia placed her hand firmly on Bey’s arm. “Not today. We’ve just eaten, and Bey has had a very hard day. He needs to rest now.”
“I’m sure he does. I’m sure you both do. But it’s wonderful to see you again, Sylvia, and I’ll call you tomorrow.” She reached forward and stroked Bey’s forearm. “And I really look forward to seeing you again, Behrooz. Once you’re properly rested.”
Bey tried to smile and nod, but Sylvia was already towing him off toward the exit. He waved to Andromeda Diconis and received a blown kiss in return.
“What’s the hurry?” he asked as soon as they were out of earshot. “Was I making her suspicious?”
“Not in the slightest.” Sylvia’s manner was a mixture of pleasure and irritation. “You passed perfectly. Couldn’t you tell? She’d never have acted that way if she thought for one moment that you were from the Inner System. She’s the perfect Cloudlander, looks down on everything inside the Kernel Ring. But Andromeda was all ready to eat you for breakfast.”
“If I was passing perfectly, why drag me away?” Bey rather liked the idea of being eaten for breakfast by Andromeda.
“Because Andromeda has to think that I’m jealous—the way she would be. She thinks she understands our relationship exactly, and that’s the best thing that could have happened. Andromeda’s a total bitch, but she took you at face value, as a Cloudlander. And she’s the universe’s greatest gossip. Give her a day or two, and everyone will know that I have a new companion, a man from the Opik Harvester.”
“Isn’t that dangerous? They may want to meet me.”
“She’ll tell people that I’m jealous of you and want to keep you all to myself. It’s a perfect reason to let us stay private while you work. But that’s something we’ll worry about tomorrow.”
“Uh uh.” He yawned. “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow. Great word. Great speech. Hmmm.”
Sylvia had noticed the change in Bey since leaving Andromeda Diconis. Another common aftereffect of a long session in the tanks was hitting him. He was on a high but was fast running out of adrenaline and energy. The surprise of waking in a strangely different form and the stimulus of the new surroundings had been enough to give him a lift for the past few hours, but that was fading.
“Come on. Before you fall asleep in the corridors.” His exhaustion had been a convenient excuse to leave Andromeda, but it was true enough. Bey Wolf would need a good rest before he was fit to work on the Marsden Harvester’s form-change problems.
She led him away toward his assigned quarters. Bey did not speak, and by the time they arrived his eyes were closing. Sylvia steered him to a bunk. He was asleep before she could add another word. After a few moments she gently removed the bright blue clothes and the extravagant hat and secured him in the bunk with loose straps. He would become used to low-g sleeping soon enough, but he might be disoriented when he first woke.
He lay flat on his back. Sylvia looked over the sleeping body with approval. “Pretty good job I did with you, Behrooz Wolf, if I say it myself. Andromeda was fascinated, and she’s a connoisseur. ‘Very attractive friends,’ eh? We’ll have to fight to keep her away from you.”
Sylvia frowned, remembering another of Andromeda’s comments. Someone on the harvester had seen Paul Chu recently. Even if it were no more than a bit of gossip, Sylvia needed to follow up on it. Cinnabar Baker had pointed out the problem. When one talked of war and sabotage, all roads seemed to lead to the Kernel Ring; but no roads led to Black Ransome, or to Ransome’s Hole—unless she could track the lead to Paul, and he could provide the pathway.
She started for the door, then paused. She must not go back to the hall too soon. Andromeda had her own ideas about what Sylvia and Bey were doing at the moment, and Sylvia wanted to keep that idea intact.
She forced herself to wait for almost two hours, thinking hard and watching the steady rise and fall of Bey’s bony chest. At last she headed for the concert hall.
The lights had dimmed automatically. Bey lay in darkness, listened to the faint hissing of the air ventilators, and wondered what had wakened him. He was almost in free-fall, floating with only the imperceptible tether of a pair of retaining straps. And he was not ready to wake. He felt groggy with sleep, so tired that it was an impossible effort to open his eyes.
“Bey!” The voice came again. It was no more than a whisper, but it jerked him at once to thrilling wakefulness. It was a sound to rouse Bey from the dead.
He opened his eyes. The projection system in the corner had switched itself on and revealed the interior of a dark room. In the center of that open space, her face illuminated by the faint gleam of a single red spotlight, sat Mary Walton.
“Bey!” The soft call came again.
“Mary. Where are you?”
“Don’t try to answer me, Bey. This message was prerecorded, so I can’t hear what you’re saying. It is triggered when you respond to your name and open your eyes.”
She was hauntingly attractive and as crazy-looking as ever. Bey even recognized her outfit. It was the one she had worn when she played Titania, a long russet gown that should have been dowdy but glowed with fairy tints of warm light. He had last seen it locked in a closet of his Earth apartment. Her voice was even more familiar, as wonderful as ever, with smoky, husky tones that made Bey hear sexual overtones even in her comic speeches.
“I don’t want you hurt, Bey,” she went on. “I’ve already saved you many times, back on Earth and on the space farm, but I don’t know how many more times I can do it. You have to stop what you’re doing, leave the harvesters, get back to Earth.”
“How did you know where I am?” Bey responded automatically, forgetting that she could not hear him.
“You are being used, you know, by the Outer System.” She had not paused. “It’s not your problem, but they’ll try and make it yours. The Outer System is going to break down more and more, and if you try to stop it, it will kill you. Say no to Cinnabar Baker, whatever she suggests. When Sylvia Fernald tries to sleep with you—she will, if she hasn’t already—remember that she’s doing it as part of her job. You are nothing to those people.” Mary raised her hand. On her middle finger glowed a huge kernel ruby, the rarest gemstone in the system. “It may be over between us, Bey, but don’t ever forget that I’m fond of you. I saved you when the messages were making all the others die or go mad. Give me credit for that. Goodbye now, and please take care. Sleep well.”