This Perfect Day

"Hey, easy there, come on," Bob said.

But Christ and Wei, he was thinking only of himself! "Bob, listen," he said, turning to him, getting up on an elbow, back-handing at his eyes.

"Take it easy," Bob said.

"Bob, there are others," he said, "others who're just as sick as I was! We've got to find them and help them!"

"We know."

"There's a member called 'Lilac,' Anna SG38P2823, and another one—"

"We know, we know," Bob said. "They've already been helped. They've all been helped."

"They have?"

Bob nodded. "You were questioned while you were out," he said. "It's Monday. Monday afternoon. They've already been found and helped—Anna SG; and the one you called 'Snow-flake/ Anna PY; and Yin GU, 'Sparrow.'"

"And King," he said. "Jesus HL; he's right here in this building; he's—"

"No," Bob said, shaking his head. "No, we were too late. That one—that one is dead."

"He's dead?"

Bob nodded. "He hung himself," he said.

Chip stared at him.

"From his shower, with a strip of blanket," Bob said.

"Oh, Christ and Wei," Chip said, and lay back on the pillow. Sickness, sickness, sickness; and he had been part of it.

"The others are all fine though," Bob said, patting his hand. "And you'll be fine too. You're going to a rehabilitation center, brother. You're going to have yourself a week's vacation. Maybe even more."

"I feel so ashamed, Bob," he said, "so fighting ashamed of myself..."

"Come on," Bob said, "you wouldn't feel ashamed if you'd slipped and broken an ankle, would you? It's the same thing.

I'm the one who should feel ashamed, if anyone should."

"I lied to you!"

"I let myself be lied to," Bob said. "Look, nobody's really responsible for anything. You'll see that soon." He reached clown, brought up a take-along kit, and opened it on his lap. "This is yours," he said. "Tell me if I missed anything.

Mouthpiece, clippers, snapshots, nameber books, picture of a horse, your—"

"That's sick," he said. "I don't want it. Chute it."

"The picture?"

"Yes."

Bob drew it from the kit and looked at it. "It's nicely done," he said. "It's not accurate, but it's—nice in a way."

"It's sick," he said. "It was done by a sick member. Chute it."

"Whatever you say," Bob said. He put the kit on the bed and got up and crossed the room; opened the chute and dropped the picture down.

"There are islands full of sick members," Chip said. "All over the world."

"I know," Bob said. "You told us."

"Why can't we help them?"

"That I don't know," Bob said. "But Uni does. I told you before, Li: trust Uni."

"I will," he said, "I will," and tears came into his eyes again.

A red-cross-coveralled member came into the room. "How are we feeling?" he asked.

Chip looked at him.

"He's pretty low," Bob said.

"That's to be expected," the member said. "Don't worry; we'll get him evened up." He went over and took Chip's wrist.

"Li, I have to go now," Bob said.

"All right," Chip said.

Bob went over and kissed his cheek. "In case you're not sent back here, good-by, brother," he said.

"Good-by, Bob," Chip said. "Thanks. Thanks for everything."

"Thank Uni," Bob said, and squeezed his hand and smiled. He nodded at the red-crossed member and went out.

The member took an infusion syringe from his pocket and snapped off its cap. "You'll be feeling perfectly normal in no time at all," he said.

Chip lay still and closed his eyes, wiped with one hand at tears while the member pushed up his other sleeve. "I was so sick," he said. "I was so sick."

"Shh, don't think about it," the member said, gently infusing him, "It's nothing to think about. You'll be fine in no time."

Part Three Getting Away

Chapter 1

Old cities were demolished; new cities were built. The new cities had taller buildings, broader plazas, larger parks, monorails whose cars flew faster though less frequently.

Two more starships were launched, toward Sirius B and 61 Cygni. The Mars colonies, repopulated and safeguarded now against the devastation of 152, were expanding daily; so too were the colonies on Venus and the Moon, the outposts on Titan and Mercury.

The free hour was extended by five minutes. Voice-input telecomps began to replace key-input ones, and totalcakes came in a pleasant second flavor. Life expectancy increased to 62.4.

Members worked and ate, watched TV and slept. They sang and went to museums and walked in amusement gardens.

On the two-hundredth anniversary of Wei's birth, in the parade in a new city, a huge portrait banner of smiling Wei was carried at one of its poles by a member of thirty or so who was ordinary in every respect except that his right eye was green instead of brown. Once long ago this member had been sick, but now he was well. He had his assignment and his room, his girlfriend and his adviser. He was relaxed and content.