Poul Anderson - The Dancer from Atlantis

“Still, enough had been seen by the fleet—an apparition of angry gods—that Theseus on his return cast the mentator into the sea. That is desirable. Still more desirable is the chastening you gave him when you pulled free from the teeth of his victory that girl in whom he believed he had triumphed even over the Goddess. Be consoled by the knowledge that now he will not simply spare the Cretan island colonies; he will on the whole become a good king, and the Mycenaean civilization will be a worthy child of the Minoan, and a leaven in the Hellenic.

“We are, of course, grateful for your information about the stranded spatiotemporal vehicle. It can be repaired and returned. Yes, you can yourselves be sent back. Precisely because the control fields failed and thus caused the original trouble, we have (figuratively speaking) an energy lane where the machine passed through the continuum. Launched back along that, the, vehicle can carry you, can leave you off where and when you were first picked up, in an exact reversal of the original accidental process.

“Repairs will take a while, given our scanty facilities.

Furthermore, you have been through terrible experiences. We are based at the Black Sea, well away from the stricken area. Would you not like to be flown there, to rest, recover, and decide just what you want to make of the lives you have gained?”

Oleg had said, sentimentally and rather drunkenly: “Last night together, eh? I won’t spoil it for you two, any more than I’ve been bothering you much these, past weeks. I’ll miss you, though, however glad to come home.” He gave them each a bear hug and wandered off to bed.

Reid and Erissa were alone. The futurian expedition housed itself not in a tent but in a building whose arches soared airy, iridescent, and indestructible as rainbows. From the terrace where they stood, a hillside dropped in forest that was sweet with summer, hoar with moonlight, to broad and quiet waters. Overhead were many stars. A nightingale sang.

“I almost wish we could stay,” he said in awkwardness.

She shook her head. “We’ve talked this out, darling. Exile would not be well for either of us. Worse would be knowing how much love we betrayed in our homes.”

“It seems so hollow,” he said in the pain of tomorrow’s loss. “We did nothing but come full circle, except that you learned the core of your life was a lie.”

“Oh, but we did far more!” she exclaimed. Laying hands on his shoulders, she regarded him gravely and tenderly. “Haven’t you understood? Must I tell you anew? We lived that half year. and if we met grief, we also found joy in each other which will dwell with us till we die. And we have our victory—for it was a victory, that we and those in our care outlived the end of a world and even saved much of it for the world which is to follow. If we had only a single road to walk, that twisted back on itself, still, we walked it. I see now that we never were slaves to fate, because our own wills were what made that destiny for us.

“I gave myself a myth. But the young and wounded need myths. Lately I have outgrown the need, and truth is better. Oh, it hurt for a while, Duncan, hurt bitterly. I have you to thank for showing me that Deukalion is truly my beloved oldest son, that his life is a pledge of an end to hatred. And my man Dagonas, why, I’ll never lie in his arms again without remembering the sight of how he watched over that girl. You are no longer my god, you are my dear friend, which is more; and he is my life’s man.”

She paused; then, slowly: “No, there is no pure happiness. But I am going to be happier than I was. I hope you likewise will be, Duncan.”

He kissed her. “I believe that,” he said. “You healed me of a lameness I didn’t know I had.”

She smiled, “Tonight is ours. But my dear whom soon I must bid goodbye, first tell me once more of what is to come.”

“A thousand years hence, Athens shines in a glory that will gladden the rest of mankind’s time on earth. And its secret seed is that heritage it got from your people.”

“There is comfort to live by: that my country was, that theirs will be. Now let us be only us two.”

He stumbled, fell, and lay a minute on the pulsing deck while the dizziness of his flight; passed away.

But I’d better rise, he thought, and get into our cabin before somebody comes by. In spite of the shave and haircut and imitation of twentieth-century clothes they gave me, I’ll have trouble explaining some changes in my appearance.

He lifted himself erect. Strength returned, and calm. The North Pacific shimmered and murmured around him. He tried to summon Erissa’s image out of the moonlight, but already that was hard to do, as if he sought to recall a dream.

And yet, he realized, she helped me win everything. She taught me what it is to be a woman, and so what it is to be a man.

He went below. Pamela lay propped in her bunk, alone with a softcover mystery novel. The lamplight glowed on her hair and on the picture of their children. She glanced up. “Oh,” she said timidly. “You’re back sooner than I expected.”

He smiled at her. It came to him that earlier this night he had been recalling a man who died young of senseless causes, but who first lived more than most. Among the words he left:

Pamela looked closer at Reid and sat straight. “Why, you’ve a different coat on,” she said. “And—”

“Well, you see, a crewman and I got talking, decided we liked each other’s coats better, and swapped,” he replied. “Here, inspect.” He slipped the garment off and tossed it onto her lap. She couldn’t help staring at it, feeling the unfamiliar material. Meanwhile he scrambled out of the rest and, under cover of donning a bathrobe, dropped the pieces in a drawer. He’d toss them overboard later.

She raised her eyes again. “Duncan,” she said “You’re suddenly thin. And those creases in your face—”

“Do you mean you hadn’t noticed?” He lowered himself to the side of her bunk, cupped her chin in his hand, and said: “It’s past time we stopped drifting apart. Break out your oars, mate, and if you’re not sure how to use them, let me show you.”

I must distract her, he thought. Someday I’ll tell her the whole truth. But not yet. She couldn’t believe. Anyhow, we’ve more important business first.

I feel the new thing in me, the knowing what is needed, the spirit that does not surrender, the courage to be joyful.

“What do you mean?” she pleaded.

He answered: “I want to make my woman happy.”