Kettrick walked to the steps and stood for a long moment without saying anything. She was as he remembered her, as he had dreamed of her and wanted her ever since his exile had begun. He did not want to speak. He only wanted to look at her, standing there in her green dress, with the light shining on her hair. As if it were in some remote distance behind her, he saw Seri lay aside the shocker and move forward.
And now a question formed itself in his mind. It was not a new question. It was as old almost as his exile. He did not want to ask it, but it was necessary.
"Why, Larith? Why shouldn't I have come back?"
He heard Seri answer. "Because it only means trouble, for you, for us . . . Are you out of your mind, to come here?"
"Is that all, Larith?" asked Kettrick. "Or is there more?"
There was something different about her, after all. Her face had always been as transparent to him as though it were made of glass, and perhaps, now that he thought of it, that was simply because she had never tried to hide anything from him before. Anger, love, boredom, impatience, joy; it was all there, take it or leave it and be damned to him. But now her face was like a mask and he could not read it.
And yet she said, "I belong only to myself, Johnny, as I always did."
Her eyes were so steady on his, so wide and startled, as though, he thought, she still hoped that they might be mistaken in what they saw. The light breeze lifted her hair and stirred the soft green stuff against her body, and she seemed to shiver, as though its touch were cold.
"You shouldn't have come," she said again. And then she turned and went back up the steps, thrusting hard past Seri, and disappeared into the leafy obscurity of the garden.
Kettrick looked after her, his own face closed and impassive. Seri continued to stare at him. "Well," said Kettrick, "it has been a long time." He shrugged, and smiled at Seri. "Don't look so stricken."
"How should I look?" asked Seri. "Tell me. Joyous? Happy? Because you come in the middle of the night, my old friend, my dear friend, and I should be glad to see you? Listen, Johnny, I'm doing well again after all the trouble, and now if you're caught in my house . . ." He was furiously angry. "This time they won't just deport you. This time it will be Narkad." Narkad was the prison world of the Hyades, not a bad place as prisons went but unattractive even so. "And will Sekma believe that I didn't know, that I had nothing to do with your being here? You'll ruin me, Johnny!"
Kettrick said mildly, "I can't blame you for being annoyed. But Sekma isn't hammering on the gate just yet, so why not calm down? Take a few minutes to get over the shock. And you may find there's a brighter side for you. Perhaps as much as half a million credits brighter." He looked down at himself. "In the meantime, I'd appreciate some soap and water."
"Half a million credits," Seri repeated, and came down the intervening steps. "What are you talking about, Johnny? What did you come back for?"
"To finish what I started at the White Sun."
He only half saw Seri's face, only half noted the look of stunned realization. He was thinking of Larith. He had not tried to picture to himself how their meeting would be, or what she would say to him. But he had not expected anything like this.
Of course, he had been gone for more than two years. And of course, she had not known that he was coming back, tonight or any night. They had said goodbye.
And yet . . .
Tears, anger, or the simple statement that she belonged to someone else; these he could have understood. Instead she had closed a door against him, and this he could not understand.
He started past Seri to the steps, on a sudden impulsive wish to find Larith in the garden and break open that door by whatever violence might be required. Then he caught himself, thinking, "No, the hell with her, let her do what she wishes." That struck him as funny and he laughed to himself. He might come clear across space for a woman, but he was damned if he'd go up a flight of stairs.
He stopped, and Seri said, "The White Sun. Yes. I might have known."
"You might have known something else, too," said Kettrick equably. "Which is that I wouldn't have come back at all if I didn't know I could do it, without getting caught myself or getting you into trouble." He looked curiously at Seri. "You didn't used to be so timid."
Seri answered sharply, "I didn't use to have a reason." Khitu and Chai came to the foot of the steps, flanks heaving as though they had been running hard. They grinned at Kettrick.
"We look out there, all ways. No one on your trail. You stay now, John-nee?"
"Little while," Kettrick said. "Thanks."
They growled happily and loped off back to their duties. Seri looked after them, his face abstracted.
"You always did have a way with them," he muttered. "They serve me willingly enough, but you they love. Well!" He shook his head and sighed. "All right, Johnny, I'll listen to you." For the first time he made a gesture of friendship, his hand on Kettrick's shoulder. "Go and bathe yourself, you stink like a dirty crew hole. And I suppose my clothes will still fit you. Take whatever you need." He pushed Kettrick ahead of him. "Go along. We'll wait for you in the garden."
Kettrick went into the house. It had not changed since he had seen it, and it brought poignant thoughts of the house he himself had once lived in, a mile or so away on the other side of the river. Well, if things worked out, he would live there again. With or without Larith.
He was still angry and hurt.
In the bath, he laid aside the money belt that contained his emergency funds and dropped his dirty clothes thankfully into the disposal chute. He shaved while Seri's big sunken hot tub was filling, and then he scrubbed himself, washing the dye from his skin and hair. The shallow disguise would not help him now if he were caught, and it made him feel uncomfortable and foolish. Deliberately forgetting Larith, he abandoned himself to the simple sensual pleasure of being clean again. After the hot bath he plunged into the cool one, went through the airspray, and emerged looking and feeling like a new man.
Seri's closets were well-stocked as always. He was almost finished dressing when Larith knocked on the door and called his name.
He opened the door. She came in and stood, looking into his face, and now the mask was gone, or at least it had slipped aside.
"That was hard to take," she said. "Coming like that without warning. I'd made up my mind I would never see you again."
"Didn't I tell you I'd be back?"
"And we both knew it wasn't possible."
"But I'm here."
"For how long? How many days till they catch you? And Seri's right. This time they won't send you politely away.
This time it will be Narkad, and you'll be an old man before you see Earth again."
He moved a little closer to her. "Suppose they don't catch me?"
"All right, suppose they don't. Suppose you get what you want at the White Sun, then what? Will you buy a house in Ree Darva, and ask Sekma to be your first dinner guest? No, you'll be running, harder and faster than you ever ran before, to get clear of the Hyades. And wherever you spend your half million credits, it won't be here."
"So?" asked Kettrick, and reached out to touch the warm golden curve of her neck just where it met the shoulder.
She struck his hand away.
"Why should I break my heart again for a day or two? It's too hard, Johnny! I won't do it."
For a moment the old remembered Larith looked at him hot-eyed and angry-mouthed, and it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that there might be a way. And then the mask had slipped back into place again and she was saying with every aspect of earnestness: "If you love me, if you care for me at all, go away. Don't try this. It'll only mean trouble, great trouble, for all of us. I've been talking to Seri. We can put you on a ship tonight and you'll be safely out of the Cluster by morning."
And now he understood. She might not "belong" to Seri, which was the Darvan way of saying "married," but they had a comfortable thing going and they did not want it broken up.
He did not trust himself to speak, though he saw that she was waiting anxiously for his answer. He turned away, holding hard to his anger, trying to be fair about it. She was within her right, and he had no just cause to feel the way he did. It was only that he had always thought of Larith as being his. Even when his reason told him that she was not existing in a vacuum, inert, outside of life, waiting for his return, some deep part of him had clung to the idea that she was doing just that, if not physically then at least in her emotions. As he had done. He felt sold and foolish, and his rage was not lessened because he knew it was unjust.
"Please, Johnny?" she said. "Will you do it?"
Ridiculously, he thought how glad he was that he had not climbed the stairs.
He shook his head. "No. But you needn't worry, Larith.
Whatever arrangement you have with Seri is your own business. And his. I'll not question it."
"It isn't that easy," said Larith softly, and he thought there was a throaty hint of tears in her voice. "I won't see you again, Johnny. Goodbye."
The door clicked gently and she was gone. Kettrick finished dressing. As he went up the inner stair to the roof he heard the sound of a car leaving the courtyard, the gate swinging shut behind it. Seri was alone in the garden.
"You should take her advice, Johnny. It's good."
Kettrick said viciously, "Let's get down to business."
"No reason to be nasty. What did you expect us to do, urge you on to break your neck?" He handed Kettrick a goblet of the cool, potent drink he had always liked best in the summer nights, and sat down. "Well, we tried. Now, what did you expect me to do to earn these half million credits?"
Kettrick did not answer at once He walked among the fragrant shrubs and the flowers that were washed of color by the moonlight but not of scent. He stood by the low wall and saw the lights of Larith's car diminish, turn, and disappear. He drank the cool drink and forced himself to forget everything hot and impractical, like the impulse he had to throw Seri off the wall, and to concentrate solely on the important matters.
He kept reminding himself that if he failed, if he were caught before he had fulfilled his mission, his license was again forfeit, and there might well be a term at Narkad before he was through with the Hyades forever. The passing thought that without Larith the Hyades meant nothing to him was only that, a passing thought. He could love as well as the next man, but he had loved the Cluster long before he ever heard of Larith.
He looked up at the sky, the familiar sky with the copper moons and the great orange stars of the Cluster like beacon lamps beyond them, and far away, tiny and brilliant, the glitter of the White Sun. He began to be excited and joyous and there was a certain defiant satisfaction in feeling that way. He was at no pains to hide it from Seri.
"I need a ship," he said.
Seri grunted. "Well, that doesn't surprise me. I have two in port. I've already posted the itinerary for one of them, but the other is unscheduled."
Kettrick looked up at the sky again. Earth had developed long jump starships because her isolated position and the disappointing barrenness of her sister planets had driven her to it. Anywhere she wanted to go was a long way off. Here in the Hyades the Darvans had not needed long jump ships. They were not practical within the Cluster, on the same principle that the big globe-girdling ultrasonic jets were not practical for local flights. And since the Cluster had provided its populations with all the trade and excitement they needed, nobody had bothered to go outside of it. The space-minded Darvans were just beginning to think about enlarging their horizons when the first ships from Earth arrived and made the whole question irrelevant.
Feeling pretty chagrined at learning that they were not the sole lords of space as they had believed, still the Darvans were quick enough to adjust. They adopted the long-distance Rodman drive and the much larger, heavier ships for extra-Cluster use, and for some domestic purposes, especially periphery patrols. Within the Cluster, though, the same small short-jump Darvan ships still moved between the suns, and this was good for Kettrick's purpose.
He had the course all clear in his mind, exactly where he would make worldfall and exactly what he would do there. Some of the planning was based on talks with Sekma; there were certain planets where the mythical Doomstar seemed to be particularly strong in the minds of the natives. Some of it was based on Kettrick's own ideas. From Seri's roof he could see much of his itinerary spread across the heavens. The stars were old friends, and the many-colored worlds that circled them seemed suddenly very close. He shut his eyes, remembering.
"When can she go?" he asked.
"Three days."
"Good. Which one is she?"
"Starbird."
"Who's skipper now?"
"A new man, Johnny. You wouldn't know him. I suppose you have all the answers, but I'd like to hear them. I couldn't guarantee the skipper or crew . . ."
"Skipper's no problem. Give him a vacation with pay. Same with the crew. I'll supply my own, if they aren't all in jail."
Seri said impatiently, "But you've got to land! You've got to service and take on supplies and at least a semblance of cargo. And there isn't a port official in the Cluster that doesn't know you."
"And there isn't a port in the Cluster that I don't know, including the ones where I will be safer than a babe in its mother's arms. You can leave that to me."
"But . . ."
Kettrick looked at him. "Seri, friend, you are a good man with charts and figures and all the necessary labors of business. The company couldn't have operated without you. But I don't recall that you ever claimed to be an expert on my end of the business."
Seri shook his head. "I don't know why I listen to you." Because you're greedy, like the rest of us."
"I can't deny that."
"And because you've been busy weighing up the risk against the possible profit and you've decided that it's worth it."
Seri said harshly, "I haven't had time to weigh anything. You're too sudden, Johnny." He rose and moved restlessly across the open space where they sat, into the dappled shadows of an arching vine. There he stopped and turned, but Kettrick could no longer see his face.
"Suppose I say no, Johnny. Then what happens?" Kettrick shrugged. "I'll make other arrangements. And the half-million will go to somebody else. Hell, man, you were my partner. I had to give you first chance at it."
Seri stood in the shadow of the vines and did not speak. Kettrick laughed. "A knotty problem to be faced with in the middle of the night, I'll admit that. I'm sorry I can't be more considerate. Ponder it a while. And remember that as far as Sekma's Interworld-Commerce boys are concerned, I'm light years away on Earth. By the time any notion that I'm not could get back to them—assuming, of course, that you and Larith don't betray me . . ." Seri made a gesture of denial.
"For friendship's sake, I trust you," Kettrick said, "and also because if you did turn me in you could count firmly on going right along with me to Narkad, remembering various things I could have, but did not, reveal to Sekma's Board of Inquiry. So as I started to say, by the time the I-C could get word that I'm back in the Hyades, I'll be all through and gone again. Meantime, they won't be looking for what they know isn't here."
Seri was silent while the breeze shook sweetness from the flowers and rustled the cool leaves overhead. Then he said, "All right, Johnny. You can have the ship."
Kettrick rose and stretched. "Good. You won't regret it."
New energy seemed to have been released in Seri by the simple act of making up his mind.
"You can't stay here. Too many people coming by. How about the island? Nobody will bother you there for three days, and you can come and go quite safely at night. You can even gather your crew there."
Kettrick nodded. "Good enough." He did not want to stay in Seri's house, not only because the risk of being seen was great, but because he did not know how long he could maintain this attitude of practical neutrality about Larith. The less he saw of Seri the better, especially if Larith should decide to come back to the house.
Seri seemed pleased. "I'll get the launch ready. The hut is pretty well stocked, but there are a few things you'll want. Sit still and have another drink, it won't take long. I'll send Khitu and Chai with you to help you settle in, and they can bring the launch back. The skimmer's at the island, and better for your purposes. The launch would attract too much attention."
He went away down the stairs, Kettrick poured himself another drink and looked at the stars and tried not to think of the times he and Larith had spent together on the island. Ree Darva was too full of the sound of her voice and the graceful shadow of her passing. He would be glad to leave it.
Presently Seri called to him and he went down into the courtyard and through the back gate to the landing. The white launch hung purring softly at her mooring.
"I tried to think of everything," Seri said. "If there's anything more you need, tell them, and I'll send it over tomorrow night."
Khitu said, "Come, John-nee." He and Chai had always loved boats. They were happy as two kittens and eager to be gone. Kettrick stepped into the launch. Seri reached over and took him by the hand.
"I'll let you know when Starbird's ready," he said. His hand tightened and then let go. "We'll do it, Johnny." He pushed the launch away, out onto the quiet water, all coppery in the moonlight.
Khitu made the launch purr louder, his large hands expert on the controls. It slid away down the river, a white arrow point cutting the still water. Seri stood on the landing and watched, and grew small in the distance, and then was gone.
The city passed by on either bank. The somnolent houses gave way to mooring basins and fisheries as the river widened and then melted imperceptibly into the lake. Looking back Kettrick could see the towering shapes of the starships far to the south, where the spaceport dominated all this shoreline, and as he looked a ship went skyward with the long muted drumroll of thunder that never failed to shake his heart.
Now there was nothing but sky and lake and the small launch driving over a lifting swell.
And then suddenly the night went out in blast and fire. A great fist drove Kettrick down into the yielding water and slammed it shut over his head. Very briefly he was aware of pain. Then he ceased to be aware of anything.