Robert Heinlein - Citizen of the Galaxy

She glared up at him, and the Krausa thought bitterly that there must be something to the belief that the pure blood of the People produced better brains. In dickering with fraki he never lost his temper. But Mother -- and now Rhoda -- could always put him in the wrong.

At least Mother, hard as she had been, had never asked the impossible. But Rhoda... well, Wife was new to the job. He said tensely, "Chief Officer, this injunction was laid on me personally, not on Sisu. I have no choice."

"So? Very well, Captain -- well speak of it later. And now, with all respect to you, sir, I have work to do."

Thorby had a wonderful time at the Gathering but not as much fun as he expected; repeatedly Mother required him to help entertain chief officers of other ships. Often a visitor brought a daughter or granddaughter along and Thorby had to keep the girl busy while the elders talked. He did his best and even acquired facility in the half-insulting small talk of his age group. He learned something that he called dancing which would have done credit to any man with two left feet and knees that bent backwards. He could now put his arm around a girl when music called for it without chills and fever.

Mother's visitors quizzed him about Pop. He tried to be polite but it annoyed him that everyone knew more about Pop than he did -- except the things that were important.

But it did seem that duty could be shared. Thorby realized that he was junior son, but Fritz was unmarried, too. He suggested that if Fritz were to volunteer, the favor could be returned later.

Fritz gave a raucous laugh. "What can you offer that can repay me for dirtside time at Gathering?"

"Well..."

"Precisely. Seriously, old knucklehead, Mother wouldn't listen, even if I were insane enough to offer. She says you, she means you." Fritz yawned. "Man, am I dead! Little red-head off the Saint Louis wanted to dance all night. Get out and let me sleep before the banquet."

"Can you spare a dress jacket?"

"Do your own laundry. And cut the noise."

But on this morning one month after grounding Thorby was hitting dirt with Father, with no chance that Mother would change their minds; she was out of the ship. It was the Day of Remembrance. Services did not start until noon but Mother left early for something to do with the election tomorrow.

Thorby's mind was filled with other matters. The services would end with a memorial to Pop. Father had told him that he would coach him in what to do, but it worried him, and his nerves were not soothed by the fact that Spirit of Sisu would be staged that evening.

His nerves over the play had increased when he discovered that Fritz had a copy and was studying it. Fritz had said gruffly, "Sure, I'm learning your part! Father thought it would be a good idea in case you fainted or broke your leg. I'm not trying to steal your glory; it's intended to let you relax -- if you can relax with thousands staring while you smooch Loeen."

"Well, could you?"

Fritz looked thoughtful. "I could try. Loeen looks cuddly. Maybe I should break your leg myself."

"Bare hands?"

"Don't tempt me. Thorby, this is just precaution, like having two trackers. But nothing less than a broken leg can excuse you from strutting your stuff."

Thorby and his Father left Sisu two hours before the services. Captain Krausa said, "We might as well enjoy ourselves. Remembrance is a happy occasion if you think of it the right way -- but those seats are hard and it's going to be a long day."

"Uh, Father... just what is it I'll have to do when it comes time for Pop -- for Baslim?"

Nothing much. You sit up front during the sermon and give responses in the Prayer for the Dead. You know how, don't you?"

"I'm not sure."

"I'll write it out for you. As for the rest... well, you'll see me do the same for my Mother -- your Grandmother. You watch and when it comes your turn, you do the same."

"All right, Father."

"Now let's relax."

To Thorby's surprise Captain Krausa took a slideway outside the Gathering, then whistled down a ground car. It seemed faster than those Thorby had seen on Jubbul and almost as frantic as the Losians. They reached the rail station with nothing more than an exchange of compliments between their driver and another, but the ride was so exciting that Thorby saw little of the City of Artemis.

He was again surprised when Father bought tickets. "Where are we going?"

"A ride in the country." The Captain glanced at his watch. "Plenty of time."

The monorail gave a fine sensation of speed. "How fast are we going. Father?"

"Two hundred kilometers an hour, at a guess." Krausa had to raise his voice.

"It seems faster."

"Fast enough to break your neck. That's as fast as a speed can be."

They rode for half an hour. The countryside was torn up by steel mills and factories for the great yards, but it was new and different; Thorby stared and decided that the Sargon's reserve was a puny enterprise compared with this. The station where they got off lay outside a long, high wall; Thorby could see space ships beyond it. "Where are we?"

"Military field. I have to see a man -- and today there is just time." They walked toward a gate. Krausa stopped, looked around; they were alone. "Thorby --"

"Yes, Father?"

"Do you remember the message from Baslim you delivered to me?"

"Sir?"

"Can you repeat it?"

"Huh? Why, I don't know. Father. It's been a long time."

"Try it. Start in: To Captain Fjalar Krausa, master of Starship Sisu, from Baslim the Cripple: Greetings, old friend! -- ' "

" ' "Greetings, old friend," ' " Thorby repeated. " 'Greetings to your family, clan, and sib, and' -- why, I understand it!"

"Of course," the Krausa said gently, "this is the Day of Remembrance. Go on."

Thorby went on. Tears started down his cheeks as he heard Pop's voice coming from his own throat: " ' -- and my humblest respects to your revered mother. I am speaking to you through the mouth of my adopted son. He does not understand Suomic' -- oh, but I do!"

"Go on."

When Thorby reached: " 'I am already dead -- ' " he broke down. Krausa blew his nose vigorously, told him to proceed. Thorby managed to get to the end, though his voice was shaking. Then Krausa let him cry a moment before telling him sternly to wipe his face and brace up. "Son... you heard the middle part? You understood it?"

"Yes... uh, yes. I guess so."

"Then you know what I have to do."

"You mean... I have to leave Sisu?"

"What did Baslim say? 'When opportunity presents --' This is the first opportunity I've had... and I've had to squeeze to get it. It's almost certainly the last. Baslim didn't make me a gift of you, Son -- just a loan. And now I must pay back the loan. You see that, don't you?"

"Uh... I guess so." "Then let's get on with it." Krausa reached inside his jacket, pulled out a sheaf of bills and shoved them at Thorby. "Put this in your pocket. I would have made it more, but it was all I could draw without attracting your Mother's suspicions. Perhaps I can send you more before you jump."

Thorby held it without looking at it, although it was more money than he had ever touched before. "Father... you mean I've already left Sisu?"

Krausa had turned. He stopped. "Better so, Son. Good-byes are not comfort; only remembrance is a comfort. Besides, It has to be this way."

Thorby swallowed. "Yes, sir."

"Let's go."

They walked quickly toward the guarded gate. They were almost there when Thorby stopped. "Father... I don't want to go!"

Krausa looked at him without expression. "You don't have to."

"I thought you said I did have to?"

"No, The injunction laid on me was to deliver you and to pass on the message Baslim sent to me. But there my duty ends, my debt is paid. I won't order you to leave the Family. The rest was Baslim's idea... conceived, I am sure, with the best of intentions for your welfare. But whether or not you are obligated to carry out his wishes is something between you and Baslim. I can't decide it for you. Whatever debt you may or may not owe Baslim, it is separate from the debt the People owed to him."