Poul Anderson - Fire Time

“No,” he said. “Delay is not necessary.”

“What do you mean?”

“I will go, in a naval aircraft. Far more effective, not to mention safer for—for her, in case of sudden bad weather. Tomorrow at noon when you call, I will be here to make arrangements.”

“But ‘effective’? You say you can’t get into this fight.”

“I can carry out a rescue, with part of my aim the improvement of the Navy’s public relations. There is no need for Miss Conway or Mr. Sparling to be present when your bombers strike, is there?”

Hanshaw regarded Dejerine closely before he asked, “You’ll go yourself, solo?”

“Yes. To preserve discretion.”

“I see.” The mayor rolled to his feet and thrust out his hand. “Okay, Yuri! How about a beer?”

The morning before rendezvous, Sparling and Jill announced that they intended another overnight trip. Innukrat regarded them closely. “For what?” she asked.

“You know my work is to learn about animals,” Jill answered. “I would observe those that fare by darkness.”

“Aye. And yet—” Arnanak’s wife sighed. “Your manner has changed of late. I wish I knew your kind well enough to guess how or why. But I see it, and hear it in your speech.” Her nostril dilated. “I smell it.”

Jill stood taken aback. Sparling jumped into the breach:

“You are right. The battle for Port Rua must be well along, maybe ended. They are our friends yonder. Do you not fear for those you care about, and long for any word even though it be evil?”

“Are we that alike?” Innukrat said very quietly. “Then go you shall if you wish. I have my work here to keep me from thinking too much.” She gave them a generous ration both of native food and supplement.

When they were afoot, Jill confessed: “I thought I was a fanatic (j.g.). Instead, I feel treacherous.”

“Don’t,” Sparling said. “Nobody alive can be more loyal than you. But loyalty to the whole of creation isn’t possible.”

As I have found out, Rhoda, jabbed within him.

Tomorrow I must face you, who’ve never stopped loving me.

And 1 may do that with manacles on my wrists. Is this why I hope my crazy scheme will work? He touched the hunting knife which he, like the girl, wore. Why the idea hit me in the first place, after what Dejerine told us? Could it be that the amateur bombing plot won’t likely get me in enough trouble to make love unimportant?

He glanced at her profile, envied her straightforwardness, then: Stop groveling! What a waste of our last time alone.

They spoke seldom through the next hour, for the climb was hard to their goal. When the subject arose of where that was to be, they had simultaneously named the same place; and their eyes met and they laughed. It had the required characteristics, distance from Ulu, easy identifiability, safe landing for a vehicle. Other locations were handier. But here they could spend an easy evening.

Timberline in Valennen was drawn not by cold but by aridity; and evolution in the Starklands had given T-life greater endurance of this than ortho-life. At the campsite, red and yellow forest had, kilometers behind, yielded to blue growth of different shape, fringed, leathery to the touch. Bushes grew well apart. Still wider spaced were trees. But where the mountain thrust forth an enormous outcrop, which the Ulu folk named Arnanak’s Rump in his presence, a concavity on the south side cast shade. From under the foot trickled a spring. Nearby rose the dark bronze trunk of a phoenix, whose roof gave further shelter. The ground was padded with cerulean turf. Here and there sparkled bright orange not-quite-flowers. Westward the plateau became entirely open, and outlook ran unhindered to the gray awesomeness of the Worldwall.

The humans fell prone on opposite sides of the water, drank and drank. Sparling noticed blessed coolness and a tang of iron, but mainly Jill’s cheek against his and a strand of blond hair in the rivulet. Slaked, they settled down in shadow dappled crimson and gold. There was a curious absence of odor from the soil—human noses didn’t respond—but no matter; his body and hers breathed forth a fragrance of flesh that had been at work outdoors.

“Hoo-ha,” Jill said. “Let’s just sit a while and sweat.”

Sparling’s gaze lingered on her as he chose words. “I’m happier than I can explain, seeing you aren’t downcast.”

She tossed her head. “I refuse to be. Don, Larreka—I’ll mourn afterward. Neither would want me doing it here… nor you, Ian.”

“I wish I had, well, your ability—no, your courage to be glad.”

Her smile was lopsided. “You think that comes easy? It’s a fight, and I don’t win every round.” She reached to ruffle his hair. “Let’s help each other stay cheerful, amante. Captain’s dinner tonight, followed by revelry. Tomorrow we make port.”

“What then?”

“Who knows?” She grew altogether serious. Tears jeweled the thick lashes. “I ask one thing of you. Ian. One solemn promise.”

“Yes?” You can have any I dare give.

“Your word of honor. Whatever I do, don’t try to stop me.”

“What? What are you thinking of?” Suicide? Impossible!

Her eyes dropped; fingers wrestled in her lap. “I can’t rightly tell. Everything’s tangled beyond redemption. But, oh, suppose I decided to—go propagandize on Earth, on behalf of Ishtar. I can claim accumulated leave, my right to a passage. You can’t, and I doubt you can buy a ticket either while the war lasts. You could hold me back, though, by begging me to stay and be your mistress.”

“Do you imagine I’d be that selfish? Making you act against your conscience? In fact—when we return, I have… my obligations, and you shouldn’t spend more of your life on an old man who can’t ever give you anything real—” Assuming I’m there at all.

She laid a hand across his mouth. He kissed her palm. “Hush,” she said. “We’ll work that out later on, when we know what’s best, least unkind.” Rapidly: “See why I want your word, effective immediately, you’ll let me find my own way, whatever it may turn out to be? I have to explore these questions freely.”

He nodded. She released him to reply, “Yes. Maybe I should’ve expected this demand from you. Freedom,” and wonder why she winced. But in a moment she pursued:

“Then I have your promise?” And he responded:

“Yes, you do.”

She cast both arms around him. “Thank you, thank you!” She struggled not to weep. “I never loved you more than now.”

He comforted her as best he was able. In a surprisingly short time she could lift eyes full of mischief and breathe, “I’ll start collecting right away. Guess what you mustn’t prevent me from doing.” And very soon after: “Ah, yes, I figured you’d co-operate.”

Later, when Anu hung immense above the peaks, they built a fire and cooked supper. Then came stars and moons. They would sleep a little, and rouse to each other again—

The rescue vehicle arrived at mid-morning.

“There he comes!” Jill called. Sparling’s look followed her upflung hand. A blinding-bright spark hurtled out of the south, became a winged barracuda shape, overshot, looped back, and circled far overhead, trailing thunder. They embraced a final hasty time and ran from rock and tree, into the heat and glare beneath naked heaven where they could be seen.

The aircraft slanted down. Jill whistled. “That’s a big Boojum,” she said.

A Huitzilopochtu, Sparling recognized. Six machine guns, three cannon, an energy projector, and a couple of one-kiloton blast-focused missiles. His head had felt a bit hollow and sandy, but the feeling vanished in a thrum of excitement.