"Male bigot! I seem to miss all the fun. But, after Aristide hit him, why didn't you kill him? You earlier wanted to ride to his camp and skewer him."
"I know. I thought of it, but it might have caused complications with the Dasht and, later, with the administration at Novorecife."
"Nonsense! All you had to do was put your point against his throat and push, and say it was self-defense. Or quietly take him away and bury him, and say nothing to anybody."
"Sainian's cowboy was watching, so the story would have gotten out. Besides, killing an unconscious man goes against the grain."
"Oh, you sentimental idiot! You're as bad as Percy Mjipa! He's a magnificent fighter and brave as a pride of lions, but his squeamishness almost got us killed three times in the Khaldoni countries."
"Percy!" said Reith to the heavens. "Where are you now that we need you?"
"He's off being Terran consul at Zanid."
"I know. I'm sorry, Lish, but if you want a cold-blooded killer, don't waste time on me."
"Then let me tell you what your attack of knight-errantry will cost us. When Warren recovers, he'll come back loaded for bear. You'll wake up to find yourself full of arrows and bolts, without a chance to use that nice shiny sword. He's a grade-A hater. If you think he'd spare you because you spared him, you're kidding yourself."
"If he's such a creep, how come you ever took up with him?"
"Mainly, because he had a job for me when I had to have one or starve. To be fair, Warren has his good points, even though he's a bastard in other ways. He's a handsome devil and can be charming. He's a hard worker and honest according to his lights. But when he gets a fixed idea, he'll break a leg, no matter whose, to prove it.
"Of course, I should have caught on to Warren's nature sooner. He hit me once before, a slap in the face when we quarreled. But he seemed so truly sorry that I forgave him."
"Well," said Reith, "we've got to dig out Aristide's fossil and be on our way before Foltz tries anything more. I'd better lend a hand with the picks and shovels. You can help, too."
"How? I'd be glad to."
"By scraping away the spoil as we dig the trench around the block. Otherwise it keeps sliding back down in."
The block came loose as the light began to fade. Marot said: "Much as I wish to be off, I do not see how we can part before tomorrow. So let us eat, go early to bed, and be up before daybreak."
Alicia was sitting by the dying fire, asking the two Krishnan workers about life in Kubyab and scribbling notes in English shorthand, when Reith beckoned Marot into their tent. In an undertone he said:
"I can't very well ask her to bunk in with the Krishnans, although they have more room than we do. Three in here would crowd us badly. Shouldn't you and I both move—"
"But my friend!" exclaimed Marot. "It is I alone who shall move in with our workmen. You shall remain. Do you think I am made of stone?"
"Well—ah—"
"It is the only practical plan. Four in the larger tent would be too many. But please have a care for my papers and specimens."
"Of course!" said Reith. He went out and spoke to Alicia: "We keep farmer's hours here, you know."
"That suits me. It's been a rough day."
"Okay. Aristide has given up his mattress to you."
"Darling of him." As she tied the tent flaps closed, she asked: "Is that one his?"
"Yep," said Reith. Like any old married couple, they stripped without ceremony or self-consciousness. But, when Reith turned down the lamp, Alicia slithered in under Reith's quilt. At once, without words or hesitation, they began kissing and fondling, avidly and hungrily, with a kind of desperate ardor. It was as if by the intensity of their lovemaking they hoped to wipe out all the unhappy memories of the past year. Presently Reith whispered: "Ready?"
"You just bet! ... Boy, you certainly are! Just be careful of my bruises, dearest love!"
From the other tent came the plaintive sounds of Marot's flute and the snores of the hired hands.
As they lay side by side in the darkness, Reith heard a smothered sniffle. Alicia angrily wiped away a tear; he knew how she hated displays of feminine weakness. But then came a sob and a torrent of tears. She buried her face against Reith's chest, murmuring:
"Oh, Fergus, what a fool I've been! I should have known that good men like you don't grow on trees."
Cradling her in his arms and stroking her hair, Reith felt wetness trickling down his own cheeks. He longed to tell her how much he loved her and wanted her back. But his basic caution, together with a lively memory of their battles before the break, held him silent. Before he dared commit himself again, he wanted to observe her, to make sure that the other, the unlovable Alicia, the termagant into which she sometimes unpredictably metamorphosed, had been banished for good.
After Alicia had cried for a while, she said in a choked voice: "Fergus dear, you don't suppose—I mean—could we possibly—"
"We'll see how things work out," said Reith.
She lay silently for a time before saying: "I suppose that's the best I can hope for now. Whatever happens, you'll always have a special place in my heart."
"And you in mine."
"You know I wasn't without experience before I met you, but you're the only one I've ever really enjoyed making love with."
Reith thought it tactless, but entirely characteristic of Alicia, to bring up her sexual adventures before and after her marriage. She had a compulsion to confess to any act of hers that the hearer might take as to her discredit. Yet her allusion sent waves of intense curiosity through Reith's mind. He wanted to know all about her relationship with Foltz. When and how had they begun? Was it true that Foltz had failed to give her pleasure, or had she said that merely to flatter her former husband?
Reith sternly repressed his curiosity, not wishing to embarrass or offend her. She plunged on: "In spite of what Warren said, it's not true about me and Percy Mjipa. We were not sexually intimate, even though we were cooped up naked together, and with his huge strength I couldn't have prevented him. Percy's a genuine man of honor. Nor was it true about the President of Qirib, either."
"What's this about President Vizman?" said Reith. "I knew you'd met him on your way to the Khaldoni countries, but ..."
"What gave Warren the idea that Vizman had screwed me? The poor dope fell genuinely in love with me."
"That's easy to do," said Reith.
"I've been propositioned by more Krishnans than I can remember; but Vizman and King Ainkhist were the only ones to offer honorable marriage; and with the king I'd have been just the head of a huge harem. Vizman was unmarried, and the Qiribuma are monogamous; so he wanted to make me the First Lady of Qirib."
"Well, obviously ..."
"Obviously I didn't accept. Vizman's a nice enough fellow as politicians go, but I hadn't the least desire to be his consort, or mistress, or anything other than a friend of another species."
Reith felt himself tensing, as if he were facing an invisible foe; but he kept his voice even. "Well? What happened?"
"I explained, as gently as I could, that we'd have to remain just friends. I had my own life to lead and would not join my fortunes to those of any Krishnan, no matter how exalted."
"At least," said Reith with a sardonic edge to his voice, "you wouldn't have had to worry about your career's being interrupted by pregnancy."
"Let's not revive that old argument, darling! There wouldn't have been any more career—of my kind, anyway. Vizman wanted to buy me an egg on the adoption market, so I'd have a little Krishnan to raise. When I said no, loud and clear, the poor fellow was quite cut up, accusing me of racial prejudice. But he still writes me and sends little gifts.