Delenda Est

9

The moon rose over mountains and turned the snow to a sudden wan glitter. Far in the north, a glacier threw back the light, and a wolf howled. The Cro-Magnons chanted in their cave, the noise drifted faintly through to the verandah.

Deirdre stood in darkness, looking out. Moonlight dappled her face and caught a gleam of tears. She started as Everard and Van Sarawak came up behind her.

“Are you back so soon?” she asked. “You only came here and left me this morning.”

“It didn’t take long,” said Van Sarawak. He had gotten a hypno in Attic Greek.

“I hope—” She tried to smile—“I hope you have finished your task and can rest from your labors.”

“Yes,” said Everard, “we finished it.”

They stood side by side for a while, looking out on a world of winter.

“Is it true what you said, that I can never go home?” Deirdre spoke gently.

“I’m afraid so. The spells…” Everard swapped a glance with Van Sarawak.

They had official permission to tell the girl as much as they wished and take her wherever they thought she could live best. Van Sarawak maintained that would be Venus in his century, and Everard was too tired to argue.

Deirdre drew a long breath. “So be it,” she said. “I’ll not waste of life lamenting. But the Baal grant that they have it well, my people at home.”

“I’m sure they will,” said Everard.

Suddenly he could do no more. He only wanted to sleep. Let Van Sarawak say what had to be said, and reap whatever rewards there might be.

He nodded at his companion. “I’m turning in,” he declared. “Carry on, Van.”

The Venusian took the girl’s arm. Everard went slowly back to his room.