Зенна Гендерсон - The Anything Box

"It's yours," I said, holding it out. Still she leaned against her hands,
her eyes searching my face.
"Can I have it?" she asked again.
"Yes!" I was impatient with this anti-climax. "But—"
Her eyes flickered. She had sensed my reservation before I had. "But you
must never try to get into it again."
"Okay," she said, the word coming out on a long relieved sigh. "Okay,
Teacher."
She took the box and tucked it lovingly into her small pocket. She turned
from the desk and started back to her table. My mouth quirked with a small
smile. It seemed to me that everything about her had suddenly turned
upwards—even the ends of her straight taffy-colored hair. The subtle flame
about her that made her Sue-lynn was there again. She scarcely touched the
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floor as she walked.
I sighed heavily and traced on the desk top with my finger a probable sizefor an Anything Box. What would Sue-lynn choose to see first? How like a drinkafter a drought it would seem to her.
I was startled as a small figure materialized at my elbow. It was Sue-lynn,her fingers carefully squared before her.
"Teacher," she said softly, all the flat emptiness gone from her voice."Any time you want to take my Anything Box, you just say so."
I groped through my astonishment and incredulity for words. She couldn'tpossibly have had time to look into the Box yet.
"Why, thank you, Sue-lynn," I managed. "Thanks a lot I would like very muchto borrow it some time."
"Would you like it now?" she asked, proffering it.
"No, thank you," I said, around the lump in my throat. "I've had a turnalready. You go ahead."
"Okay," she murmured. Then—"Teacher?"
"Yes?"
Shyly she leaned against me, her cheek on my shoulder. She looked up at mewith her warm, unshuttered eyes, then both arms were suddenly around my neckin a brief awkward embrace.
"Watch out!" I whispered laughing into the collar of her blue dress."You'll lose it again!"
"No I won't," she laughed back, patting the flat pocket of her dress. "Notever, ever again!"Subcommittee
First came the sleek black ships, falling out of the sky in patterneddisorder, sowing fear as they settled like seeds on the broad landing field.After them, like bright butterflies, came the vividly colored slow ships thathovered and hesitated and came to rest scattered among the deadly dark ones.
"Beautiful!" sighed Serena, turning from the conference room window. "Thereshould have been music to go with it."
"A funeral dirge," said Thorn. "Or a requiem. Or flutes before failure.Frankly, I'm frightened, Rena. If these conferences fail, all hell will breakloose again. Imagine living another year like this past one."
"But the conference won't fail!" Serena protested. "If they're willing toconsent to the conference, surely they'll be willing to work with us forpeace."
"Their peace or ours?" asked Thorn, staring morosely out the window. "I'mafraid we're being entirely too naive about this whole affair. It's been along time since we finally were able to say, 'Ain't gonna study war no more,'and made it stick. We've lost a lot of the cunning that used to be necessaryin dealing with other people. We can't, even now, be sure this isn't a trickto get all our high command together in one place for a grand massacre."
"Oh, no!" Serena pressed close to him and his arm went around her. "Theycouldn't possibly violate—"
"Couldn't they?" Thorn pressed his cheek to the top of her ear. "We don'tknow, Rena. We just don't know. We have so little information about them. Weknow practically nothing about their customs—even less about their values orfrom what frame of reference they look upon our suggestion of suspendinghostilities."
"But surely they must be sincere. They brought their families along withthem. You did say those bright ships are family craft, didn't you?"
"Yes, they suggested we bring our families and they brought their familiesalong with them, but it's nothing to give us comfort. They take themeverywhere—even into battle."
"Into battle!"
"Yes. They mass the home craft off out of range during battles, but everytime we disable or blast one of their fighters, one or more of the home craftspin away out of control or flare into nothingness. Apparently they're just
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glorified trailers, dependent on the fighters for motive power and everythingelse." The unhappy lines deepened in Thorn's face. "They don't know it, buteven apart from their superior weapons, they practically forced us into thistruce. How could we go on wiping out their war fleet when, with every blackship, those confounded posy-colored home craft fell too, like pulling petalsoff a flower. And each petal heavy with the lives of women and children."
Serena shivered and pressed closer to Thorn. "The conference must work. Wejust can't have war any more. You've got to get through to them. Surely, if wewant peace and so do they—"
"We don't know what they want," said Thorn heavily. "Invaders, aggressors,strangers from hostile worlds—so completely alien to us—How can we ever hopeto get together?"
They left the conference room in silence, snapping the button on the doorknob before they closed it.
"Hey, lookit, Mommie! Here's a wall!" Splinter's five-year-old handsflattened themselves like grubby starfish against the greenish ripple of theten-foot vitricrete fence that wound through the trees and slid down thegentle curve of the hill. "Where did it come from? What's it for? How come wecan't go play in the go'fish pond any more?"
Serena leaned her hand against the wall. "The people who came in the prettyships wanted a place to walk and play, too. So the Construction Corp put thefence up for them."
"Why won't they let me play in the go'fish pond?" Splinter's brows bentominously.
'They don't know you want to," said Serena.
"I'll tell them, then," said Splinter. He threw his head back. "Hey! Overthere!" He yelled, his fists doubling and his whole body stiffening with theintensity of the shout. "Hey! I wanta play in the go'fish pond!"
Serena laughed. "Hush, Splinter. Even if they could hear you, they wouldn'tunderstand. They're from far, far away. They don't talk the way we do."
"But maybe we could play," said Splinter wistfully.
"Yes," sighed Serena, "maybe you could play. If the fence weren't there.But you see, Splinter, we don't know what kind of—people—they are. Whetherthey would want to play. Whether they would be—nice."
"Well, how can we find out with that old wall there?"
"We can't, Splinter," said Serena. "Not with the fence there."
They walked on down the hill, Splinter's hand trailing along the wall.
"Maybe they're mean," he said finally. "Maybe they're so bad that the'struction Corp had to build a cage for them—a big, big cage!" He stretchedhis arm as high as he could reach, up the wall. "Do you suppose they gottails?"
"Tails?" laughed Serena. "Whatever gave you that idea?"
"I dunno. They came from a long ways away. I'd like a tail—a long, curlyone with fur on!" He swished his miniature behind energetically.
"Whatever for?" asked Serena.
"It'd come in handy," said Splinter solemnly. "For climbing and—and keepingmy neck warm!"
"Why aren't there any other kids here?" he asked as they reached the bottomof the slope. "I'd like somebody to play with."
"Well, Splinter, it's kind of hard to explain," started Serena, sinkingdown on the narrow ledge shelving on the tiny dry watercourse at her feet.
"Don't esplain then," said Splinter. "Just tell me."
"Well, some Linjeni generals came in the big black ships to talk withGeneral Worsham and some more of our generals. They brought their familieswith them in the fat, pretty ships. So our generals brought their families,too, but your daddy is the only one of our generals who has a little child.All the others are grown up. That's why there's no one for you to play with."I wish it were as simple as it sounds, thought Serena, suddenly weary againwith the weeks of negotiation and waiting that had passed.
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