The Star Fox

“About another Earth week, till the new missile units are fitted. To be sure, we’ll lose time getting out of the planetary. system. The Lodge has to escort us, and won’t let us arm our warheads till we’re beyond defensive limits. But still, I figure we’ll be on the move inside of ten days.”

Again muteness, while they looked at each other, and away, and back. “What do you plan on doing at home?” he tried.

“Wait for you,” she said. “Pray for you.”

“But—no, look, your, uh, your political work—”

“That’s no longer relevant. I haven’t changed my mind—or have I? It’s hard to tell.” Her free hand rubbed her forehead confusedly. The motion stirred her hair, awakening light in the chestnut tresses. “I don’t think I was wrong in principle,” she said after a bit. “Maybe I was in practice. But it doesn’t matter any more. You see, you’ve changed the universe. Earth is committed.”

“Nonsense!” His face smoldered. “One ship?”

“With you her captain, Gunnar.”

“Thanks, but … but you flatter me and—Wait, Joss, you do have a job. Sentiment at home might swing too far in the other direction. The last thing any sane person wants is a jehad. You keep telling ’em the enemy is not too evil to live. Remind ’em there’ll be peace negotiations eventually, and the more reasonable we are then, the more likely the peace is to last. Okay?”

He saw that she braced herself. “You’re right, and I’ll do my poor best,” she said. “But talking politics is only an evasion.”

“What do you mean?” he stalled.

Her mouth quirked afresh. “Why, Gunnar, I do believe you’re scared.”

“No, no, nothing of the sort You need rest. I’d better go.”

“Sit,” she commanded. Her fingers closed about his palm.

The touch was light, but it would have been easier to break free of a ship grapple.

Red and white chased each other across her countenance. “I have to explain,” she said with, astounding steadiness. “About what happened earlier.”

His skin prickled.

“Yes, I hoped to persuade you not to fight,” she said. “But I learned more was involved. Infinitely more.”

“Uh, uh—the past, sure—”

“When you come back,” she asked, “what are you going to do?”

“Live quietly.”

“Ha! I’d like to make book on that. For a while, though, you will be home on Earth.” Her tone dropped. “Oh, God, you must.” She raised her head. “I’ll be there too.”

He must summon so much will to speak that none was left for holding his eyes off the deck. “Joss,” he said, word by word, “you remember too many things. So do I. There was that chance once, which we did better to pass up. Then we met again, both free, both lonesome, and I admit I also thought the chance might have come again. Only it hadn’t. Time switched the dice on us.”

“No, that isn’t true. Sure, at first I believed otherwise. Our casual meetings after I returned from Ourania, and the political barrier between us—damn all politics! I thought you were simply attractive, and half that must be because of a friendship we’d never revive. I dreamed a little on the way here, but they seemed like just ordinary woman-type daydreams. How could you hurt me?” She paused. “It turned out you could.”

“I’m trying not to,” he said desperately. “You’re too good for soothing with lies.”

She let his hand go. Her own fell open upon the blanket. “So you don’t care.”

“I do, I do. But can’t you see, I didn’t break with Connie the way you did with Edgar. When she, well, helped me about you, we pulled still closer together. Then she died. It cut me off at the roots. I guess without thinking about it I’ve looked ever since for a root that strong. I’m a coward, afraid to settle for anything less, because afterward someone else might happen by who—It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

She rallied. “You’ve outgrown believing in permanent infatuation, haven’t you? We understand what really matters between two people. If you’re trying to warn me you might be restless—I wouldn’t be jealous at your wandering a little. As long as you always came back.”

“I don’t want to wander. Physically isn’t important. I wouldn’t want to mentally. That one time was bad enough. And when I heard about New Europe, I remembered a girl there. I was young and stupid, skittish about being tied down, which is especially bad for a Navy man. So I left when my leave was up without committing myself. Next time I arrived, she’d moved; I dithered whether to track her down, finally didn’t, and soon after got posted too far away to visit that planet. Now—”

“I see. You want to make sure about her.”

“I have to.”

“But that was twenty years or more ago, wasn’t it?”

He nodded. “I’ve got to find out what happened to her, see her safe if she’s still alive. Beyond that, yes, I’m doubtless being foolish.”

She smiled then. “Go ahead. I’m not too worried.”

He rose. “I must leave now. Neither of us is in any shape for emotional scenes.”

“Yes. I’ll wait, darling.”

“Better not. Not seriously, anyhow. Hell alone knows what’ll happen to me. I might not return at all.”

“Gunnar!” she cried, as if he had struck her. “Never say that!”