To The Stars

“Smitty! What are you doing here?”

Jan took his brother-in-law’s hand and pumped it enthusiastically. The great beak of a nose, the lean and hard features, were a touch of home among the rotund softness of the locals. Thurgood-Smythe seemed just as pleased to see him.

“You gave me quite a scare. I was in Italy, at a conference, when word reached me. Pulled some strings, grabbed a military jet, and was just landing when they said you had been found. I must say, you don’t look any the worse for the experience.”

“You should have seen me last night hanging onto the cushion with one arm and Aileen with the other — and kicking with one leg. Not something I would like to do a second time: “It sounds quite the experience. Put on your shirt and I’ll buy you a drink and you’ll tell me all about it. Did you see the ship that ran you down?”

Jan had turned to get his shirt and he pushed his arms into the sleeves. All of the warnings of the night came back in a rush. Had Smitty’s voice changed when he had asked that last, not-so-innocent question? He was Security after all — with enough status to commandeer a military jet in the middle of the night. Now was the moment. To tell the whole truth — or to begin to lie. He pulled the shirt over his head, his voice muffled a bit by the fabric.

“Nothing. Night black as pitch, neither ship with a light. First one went past so close we almost capsized — the second sank us.” No lies there so far. “I’d like to find out who the bastards were. My fault for being out there without any lights, but still…”

“Absolutely right, old son. Plant a rocket and I’ll help you to do it. I put a tracer out on them. Two navy ships on maneuvers and well out of the area where they should have been. As soon as they dock they are going to hear a thing or two, you can be sure of that.”

“The hell with it, Smitty, it was an accident.”

“You’re too nice to them — but you’re a gentleman. Now let’s look in on Aileen, then get that drink.”

Aileen kissed them both soundly, then cried a bit, with joy she said, and insisted on telling Thurgood-Smythe every detail of their adventure. Jan waited, trying not to let the tension show. Would she remember the submarine? And someone was lying; there were two completely different stories. Smugglers and an explosion — or two naval vessels? How could he be sure?

… and — bang! Just like that we were in the sea. I was choking and blubbering but the ancient mariner here managed to keep my head above water. I’m sure I tried to scratch him for his troubles. Panic! I don’t think I knew the meaning of the word before. And my head hurt and things kept getting woozy and going in and out of focus. Then there was a cushion to hang onto and we were floating in the water and I remember him trying to cheer me up and me not believing him at all. And then — nothing.”

“Nothing?” Thurgood-Smythe asked.

“A blank. Next thing I knew I was in this bed and they had to tell me what had happened.” She took Jan’s hand. “And I’m never going to be able to thank you. A girl doesn’t get her life saved every day. Now get out of here before I start crying again.”

They left the hospital in silence and Thurgood-Smythe pointed to the nearest cafe. “In there all right?”

“Of course. Did you talk to Liz?”

“Not last night. I didn’t want to wake her up and start her worrying too. There was no point in putting her through a night of trouble. But I called her this morning as soon as I heard you were safe and she sends all of her sisterly love. And says to stay out of small boats after this.”

“That’s Liz all right. Cheers.”

They raised the glasses and drank. The brandy burned, warmed a spot within Jan that he had not known was chilled. It had been close. And it wasn’t over yet. He had to fight back the desire to tell his brother-in-law everything about the night before. The submarine, the rescue, the two ships, everything. Wasn’t he committing a crime by not reporting what had happened? Only one thing stopped him from blurting out the truth. The Israelis had saved his life and Sara had said that he would be jeopardizing theirs if he talked about the submarine. Forget it. He had to forget everything.

“I’ll have another one of these,” he said.

“And I’ll join you. Forget about last night and start enjoying your holiday.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

But the memory would not go away and was lurking in the corner of his mind ready to pounce whenever he relaxed. When he said good-bye to Thurgood-Smythe at the VTOL pad, there was guilty satisfaction that he would not have to be alert and remember his lies all of the time.

The sun, the food, the water, all were good — although they did not go boating again by unspoken agreement. In bed Aileen expressed her thanks for what he had done with a passion that left them both happily exhausted. Yet. the other memory was always there. When he awoke at dawn, her red hair against his cheek, he thought of Sara in the sub and what she had said. Was he living a lie? It didn’t seem possible.