Homeward Bound Part 5

"I understood you before," she said. "And there were other things to worry about."

Like what? he wondered. Answers weren't hard to find. Like making sure he was alive. Like making sure he still had two working brain cells to rub against each other. If they'd hauled him more than ten light-years and ended up with nothing but a rutabaga . . . he wondered. Answers weren't hard to find. Like making sure he was alive. Like making sure he still had two working brain cells to rub against each other. If they'd hauled him more than ten light-years and ended up with nothing but a rutabaga . . . Some of them wouldn't have been too disappointed. Some of them wouldn't have been too disappointed.

Before he could get too bitter about that, a man's voice called from a hatchway leading out of the room: "Anybody home?" Without waiting for an answer, the man came gliding down into the chamber. He was about sixty, very lean, with a long face and graying sandy hair cropped close to his head. He wore a T-s.h.i.+rt and shorts; the s.h.i.+rt had a colonel's eagles pinned to the shoulders. "You're Yeager, eh?"

"Last time I looked-but that was a while ago," Sam replied. The other man grinned. Sam added, "You're one up on me."

"Sorry about that. I'm Glen Johnson."

"Are you? I'm d.a.m.ned glad to meet you in person, Colonel!" As he had for Dr. Blanchard, Yeager stuck out his hand.

The other man took it. He didn't have much of a grip. Even at seventy, even coming out of cold sleep, Sam could have squashed his hand without half trying. Maybe his surprise showed on his face, for Johnson said, "I spent more than twenty years weightless out in the asteroid belt before they decided to refrigerate me."

"Oh. You were on the Lewis and Clark Lewis and Clark?" Yeager asked, and Johnson nodded. Sam went on, "I wondered why I never heard from you again after we talked when you were flying orbital patrol. Now I understand better." He paused for more thought. "So they put you away in . . . 1984?" His wits were clearer, but still slow.

"That's right." Johnson nodded again. "How about you?"

"Me? It was 1977."

They looked at each other. Neither said anything. Neither needed to say anything. They'd both gone into cold sleep-been urged, almost forced, to go into cold sleep-years before the Admiral Peary Admiral Peary was ready to fly. The reasons behind that seemed altogether too obvious. was ready to fly. The reasons behind that seemed altogether too obvious.

"Isn't it great to be politically reliable?" Sam murmured.

"Who, me?" Glen Johnson said, deadpan. They both laughed. Johnson went on, "Actually, depending on how you look at things, it's not that bad. They were so eager to send us far, far away, they gave us the chance to see Home." He said the name in English and then in the Lizards' language.

"Well, that's true," Sam said. "They can get some use out of us here, and we're too far away to get into a whole lot of trouble."

"That's how I figure it, too," Johnson agreed. "And speaking of seeing Home, how would you like to see see Home?" Home?"

"Can I?" Sam forgot about the straps and tried to zoom off the table. That didn't work. He looked at Dr. Blanchard. "May I?"

"If you've got enough coordination to undo those straps, you've got enough to go up to the control room," she told him.

He fumbled at them. Glen Johnson laughed-not mockingly, but sympathetically. He said, "I've done that twice now."

"Twice?" Sam tried to make his fingers obey him. There! A buckle loosened.

"Yeah, twice," Johnson said. "They woke me halfway through so I could help in the turn-s.h.i.+p maneuver. Everybody here will get a good look at Home pretty soon. I saw the sky with no sun anywhere." A certain somber pride-and more than a little awe-filled his voice.

Yeager tried to imagine how empty that sky would seem-tried and felt himself failing. But his hands seemed smarter when he wasn't telling them what to do. Two more latches came loose. He flipped back the belts that held him to the table.

That was when he realized he was naked. Melanie Blanchard took it in stride. So did Johnson. Sam decided he would, too. She tossed him underpants and shorts and a T-s.h.i.+rt like the pilot's. "Here," she said. "Put these on, if you want to." He did. He thought the underpants were the ones he'd been wearing when he went downtown to go into cold sleep. The s.h.i.+rt, like Johnson's, had eagles pinned to the shoulders.

"Come on," Johnson said, and went up the hatchway.

Slowly, creakily, Sam followed. Johnson was smooth in weightlessness. He would be, of course. Yeager was anything but. A splash of sunlight brightened the top of the corridor. He paused there to rest for a moment before going up into the control room. "Oh," he said softly. Here he was, resting like a cat in the sunlight of another star.

Tau Ceti was a little cooler, a little redder, than the Sun. Sam stared at the light. Was there a difference? Maybe a little. The Lizards, who'd evolved here, saw a bit further into the infrared than people could, but violet was ultraviolet to them.

"Come on," Glen Johnson said again.

"I'm coming." Sam thrust himself up into the control room. Then he said, "Oh," once more, for there was Home filling the sky below him. With it there, below below suddenly had a meaning again. He had to remind himself he wouldn't, he couldn't, fall. suddenly had a meaning again. He had to remind himself he wouldn't, he couldn't, fall.

He'd seen Earth from orbit, naturally. The cloud-banded blue, mingled here and there with green and brown and gold, would stay in his memory forever. His first thought of Home was, There's a lot less blue. There's a lot less blue. On Earth, land was islands in a great, all-touching sea. Here, seas dotted what was primarily a landscape. The first Lizards who'd gone around their world had done it on foot. On Earth, land was islands in a great, all-touching sea. Here, seas dotted what was primarily a landscape. The first Lizards who'd gone around their world had done it on foot.

And the greens he saw were subtly different from those of Earth. He couldn't have said how, but they were. Something down in his bones knew. What looked like desert stretched for untold miles between the seas. He knew it wasn't so barren as it seemed. Life had spent as long adapting to the conditions here as it had back on Earth.

"I'm jealous of you," Johnson said.

"Of me? How come?"

"You'll be able to go down there and take a good close look at things," the pilot answered. "I'm stuck here in the s.h.i.+p. After so long aboard the Lewis and Clark, Lewis and Clark, gravity would kill me pretty d.a.m.n quick." gravity would kill me pretty d.a.m.n quick."

"Oh." Sam felt foolish. "I should have thought of that. I'm sorry. You must feel like Moses looking at the Promised Land."

"A little bit-but there is one difference." Johnson paused. Sam waved for him to go on. He did: "All Moses could do was look. Me, I can blow this place to h.e.l.l and gone. The Admiral Peary Admiral Peary came loaded for bear." came loaded for bear."

Ttomalss looked up into the night sky of Home. Some of the bright stars there moved. The Race had had orbital vehicles for as long as they'd been a unified species-a hundred thousand years, more or less. But one of these moving stars, the first one ever, didn't belong to the Race. It was full of wild Big Uglies.

Which one? Ttomalss couldn't pick it out, not at a glance. For all he knew, it could have been on the other side of the world. That hardly mattered. It was there. No-it was here. here. The Tosevites were forcefully reminding the Race they weren't quiet subjects, weren't quiet colleagues, like the Rabotevs or Hallessi. The Tosevites were forcefully reminding the Race they weren't quiet subjects, weren't quiet colleagues, like the Rabotevs or Hallessi.

It wasn't as if he hadn't know this day was coming. He wouldn't have been recalled to Home if it hadn't been. But he'd been revived for years now, and n.o.body seemed to have any better idea of what to do about the Big Uglies than males and females had had before he went into cold sleep. That not only worried him, it also annoyed him.

Quite a few things about Home annoyed him these days, from the ridiculous appearance of the young to the way males and females here seemed unable to make up their minds. n.o.body decided anything in a hurry. It often looked as if n.o.body decided anything at all. His time on Tosev 3 had changed him more than he'd imagined while he was there.

The psychologist's mouth fell open in a laugh, though it really wasn't funny. If you couldn't make up your mind on Tosev 3, you'd end up dead-either that or hornswoggled by the Big Uglies, depending. You had to be able to decide. You had to be able to act. Here . . . This place felt like the back side of a sand dune. The wind blew past overhead, but nothing here really changed.

Ttomalss laughed again. Strange how living among barbarians could be so much more vivid, so much more urgent, than living among his own kind. The Race didn't hurry. Till he went to Tosev 3, he'd thought of that as a virtue. Now, perversely, it seemed a vice, and a dangerous one.

His telephone hissed. He took it off his belt. "Senior Researcher Ttomalss speaking," he said. "I greet you."

"And I greet you, superior sir," Ka.s.squit replied. Here on Home, her mushy Tosevite accent was unique, unmistakable. "Activity aboard the Tosevite stars.h.i.+p appears to be increasing."

"Ah?" Ttomalss said. Even here, the Big Uglies on the stars.h.i.+p were enterprising. "Is that so?"

"It is, superior sir," his former ward replied. "Reconnaissance video now shows Tosevites coming up into the s.h.i.+p's observation dome. And our speculations back on Tosev 3 appear to have been correct." Her voice rose in excitement.

"Ah?" Ttomalss said again. "To which speculations do you refer?"

"I have viewed magnified images from the video footage, superior sir, and one of the wild Big Uglies appears to be Sam Yeager."

"Really? Are you certain?" Ttomalss asked.

"I am." To show how certain she was, Ka.s.squit used an emphatic cough.

"Well, well." Ttomalss had to believe her. Like any male or female of the Race, he had a hard time telling Big Uglies apart, especially when facial features were all he had to go on. He hadn't evolved to detect subtle difference between one of those alien faces and another. Ka.s.squit had. She did it without thinking, and she was usually right.

It worked both ways, of course. She'd once told him she recognized members of the Race more by their body paint than by differences in the way they looked. And wild Big Uglies even had trouble telling males and females apart from one another. To Ttomalss, differences in scale patterns, eye-turret size, snout shape, and so on were glaringly obvious. He and his kind had evolved to notice those, not whatever different cues Big Uglies used.

Ka.s.squit said, "I wonder whether Sam Yeager's hatchling is also aboard the Tosevite stars.h.i.+p."

"Time will tell," Ttomalss answered.

"So it will." Ka.s.squit sounded eager, hopeful, enthusiastic. Years before, Jonathan Yeager had introduced her to Tosevite mating practices. Ttomalss was aware he understood those, and the emotional drives that went with them, only intellectually. Ka.s.squit sounded not the least bit intellectual.

"Perhaps I should remind you that, as of the time when I went into cold sleep, Jonathan Yeager remained in an exclusive mating contract with a Tosevite female," Ttomalss said. "In fact, they both appear to have entered cold sleep not long before I did, though I do not know for what purpose. This being so, if he is aboard the stars.h.i.+p, his mate is likely to be aboard as well."

"Truth." Now Ka.s.squit might have hated him.

Ttomalss silently sighed. He had once more underestimated the power of mating urges to shape Tosevite behavior. Those and the bonds existing between parents and hatchlings were the strongest forces that drove Big Uglies. Even Ka.s.squit, with the finest civilized upbringing possible on Tosev 3, was not immune to them.

The other thing Ttomalss had to remember was that, if he underestimated those forces despite his extensive experience, other alleged experts on the Big Uglies, "experts" who had never been within light-years of Tosev 3, would do far worse. It was, no doubt, fortunate that he'd been recalled to Home. However important it was that he continue his work on Tosev 3, this took priority.

"May I ask you something, superior sir?" Ka.s.squit spoke with cold formality.

"You may always ask," Ttomalss replied. "If the answer is one that I possess, you shall have it."

"Very well. Was it at your instruction that I was left in cold sleep for so long after reaching Home? I do not appreciate being used as nothing more than a tool against the Big Uglies. I have the same rights and privileges as any other citizen of the Empire."

"Of course you do," Ttomalss said soothingly. "But how could I have done such a thing? You left Tosev 3 for Home years before I did."

Silence followed-but not for long. Angrily, Ka.s.squit said, "How could you have done such a thing, superior sir? Nothing simpler. As soon as I went into cold sleep, you could have arranged to have the order sent by radio from Tosev 3 to here. Radio waves travel twice as fast as our s.h.i.+ps. The order not to revive me at once could easily have been waiting when I arrived. The question I am asking is, did you send such an order?"

In many ways, she was indeed a citizen of the Empire. She could figure out the implications of interstellar travel and communication as readily as any member of the Race. Somehow, in spite of everything, Ttomalss had not expected that.

When he did not answer right away, Ka.s.squit said, "I might have known. And yet I am supposed to work with you. By the spirits of Emperors past, superior sir, why should I?"

For that, Ttomalss did have an answer ready: "For the sake of the Race. For the sake of the Empire."

"What about my my sake?" Ka.s.squit demanded. Despite her upbringing, parts of her were Tosevite through and through. By the standards of the Race, she was a p.r.o.nounced individualist, putting her own needs above those of the community. sake?" Ka.s.squit demanded. Despite her upbringing, parts of her were Tosevite through and through. By the standards of the Race, she was a p.r.o.nounced individualist, putting her own needs above those of the community.

"In the larger scheme of things, which carries the greater weight?" Ttomalss asked.

"If the larger scheme of things is built on lies, what difference does it make?" Ka.s.squit retorted.

That charge had fangs-or it would have, had it held truth. "I never told you I would not send such a request to Home," Ttomalss said. "While you may put your own interests first, I am obliged to give precedence to the Race as a whole. So are the males and females here who concurred in my judgment."

Now Ka.s.squit was the one who needed some time to think about how she would reply. At last, she said, "Had you asked if I would accept the delay in revival, I probably would have said yes. I recognize the needs of the Empire, too, superior sir, regardless of what you may think. But it was presumptuous of you to believe you could decide this matter for me without consulting me. That is what gets under my scales."

She had no scales, of course, but that was the Race's idiom. She did have a point . . . of sorts. Remembering that he would have to try to work with her, Ttomalss yielded to the degree he could: "I apologize for my presumption. I should have asked you, as you say. I will not make such an error again. I will also try to keep any other member of the Race from doing so."

Another pause from Ka.s.squit. At the end of it, she said, "Thank you, superior sir. That is better than nothing. It is also better than anything I expected to hear you say."

Ttomalss sighed. "You are not fully happy among us."

"That is a truth, superior sir." Ka.s.squit used another emphatic cough.

"Do you believe you would be happier among the wild Big Uglies?" he asked. "That can in large measure be arranged if you so desire, now that they have come to Home."

But Ka.s.squit said, "No," with yet another emphatic cough. "I am betwixt and between, one thing biologically, something very different culturally. This is your doing. There have been times when I was grateful to you. There have been times when I loathed you beyond all measure. There have been times when I felt both those things at once, which was very confusing."

"I believe you," Ttomalss said. "What do you feel now?"

"Are you still working on your research, superior sir?" Ka.s.squit gibed.

"Of course I am. I always will be, till my dying day," the male answered. He said nothing about Ka.s.squit's dying day, which was liable to occur first. "But I also want to know for my own sake-and for yours. Your welfare matters to me. It matters very much." Now he let out an emphatic cough of his own.

Maybe his sentiment helped disarm Ka.s.squit. Maybe that emphatic cough convinced her he was sincere. Slowly, she said, "These days, what I feel is that what I feel does not matter so much. You did what you did. Neither of us can change it these days. Far too much time has pa.s.sed for that to be possible. I have to make the best of things as they are."

"That strikes me as a sensible att.i.tude," Ttomalss said.

"It strikes me as a sensible att.i.tude, too," Ka.s.squit said. "That is why I strive to hold on to it, but holding on to it is not always easy."

Just before he asked why not, Ttomalss checked himself. Males and females of the Race were full of irrational behavior. The Big Uglies, from all he'd seen, were even fuller. Their hormonal drives operated all the time, not only during mating season. He sighed again. At bottom, the Race and the Big Uglies were both evolved animals. That they behaved like animals was no wonder. That they sometimes didn't didn't behave like animals might have been. behave like animals might have been.

And now the Big Uglies were here. Ttomalss looked up into the night sky again. No, he couldn't tell which moving star was in fact their s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p. Which it was didn't matter, anyhow. That they were here at all meant one thing and one thing only: trouble. And when had dealing with Tosevites ever meant anything else?

"Hey, son. Do you hear me?"

Jonathan Yeager heard the words, sure enough, the words and the familiar voice. At first, in the confusion of returning consciousness, the voice mattered for more. A slow smile stretched across his face, though his eyes hadn't opened yet. "Dad," he whispered. "Hi, Dad."

"You made it, Jonathan," his father said. "We made it. We're in orbit around Home. When you wake up a little more, you can look out and see the Lizards' planet." made it. We're in orbit around Home. When you wake up a little more, you can look out and see the Lizards' planet."

With an effort, Jonathan opened his eyes. There was his father, floating at an improbable angle. A woman in a white smock floated nearby, at an even more improbable one. "Made it," Jonathan echoed. Then, as his wits slowly and creakily began to work, he smiled again. "Haven't seen you in a h.e.l.l of a long time, Dad."

"Only seems like a little while to me," his father answered. "You drove me downtown, and I woke up here."

"Yeah," Jonathan said, his voice still dreamy. "But I had to drive the G.o.dd.a.m.n car back, too." He looked around. His neck worked, anyhow. "Where's Karen?"

The woman spoke up: "She's next on the revival schedule, Mr. Yeager. All the signs on the diagnostic monitors look optimal."

"Good." Jonathan discovered he could nod as well as crane his neck. "That's good." Tears stung his eyes. He nodded again.

"Here, have some of this." The woman held a drinking bulb to his mouth. He sucked like a baby. It wasn't milk, though. It was . . . Before he could find what that taste was, she told him: "Chicken broth goes down easy."

It didn't go down that easily. Swallowing took effort. Everything took effort. Of course, he'd been on ice for . . . how long? He didn't need to ask, Where am I? Where am I?-they'd told him that. But, "What year is this?" seemed a perfectly reasonable question, and so he asked it.

"It's 2031," his father answered. "If you look at it one way, you're going to be eighty-eight toward the end of the year. Of course, if you look at it that way, I'm older than the hills, so I'd rather not."

His father had seemed pretty old to Jonathan when he went into cold sleep. From thirty-three, which Jonathan had been then, seventy would do that. From fifty, where Jonathan was now, seventy still seemed a good age, but it wasn't as one with the Pyramids of Egypt. I've done a lot of catching up with him, I've done a lot of catching up with him, he realized. he realized. That's pretty strange. That's pretty strange.

"Can I get up and have that look around?" he asked.

"If you can, you may," the woman in the white smock answered, as precise with her grammar as Jonathan's mother had always been.