Outnumbering the Dead

13

On board the Hakluyt, Alegretta disappears as soon as Rafiel is settled in. She can't wait to see what damage her deputy may have done to her precious engines. This leaves Rafiel free to explore the habitat. There's no thrust on Hakluyt's engines yet, just the slow roll of the habitat to distinguish up from down. That's a bit of a problem for everybody. All habitats spin slowly so that centrifugal force will supply some kind of gravity. But when Hakluyt starts to move they'll stop the spin because they won't need it any more. The 'down' the spin has provided them - radially outward from the central axis of the cylindrical habitat - will be replaced by a rearward 'down', toward the thruster engines in the stem. Consequently, every last piece of furnishing will have to be rearranged as walls become floors and floors walls. Rafiel is having a lot of trouble with his orientation. Besides the fact that half the fittings have already been relocated, the light- gee pull is strange to him. Because he has spent so little time in low-gee environments he instinctively holds on to things as he walks, though really the feeling isn't much different from being on, say, the Moon. (But Rafiel hasn't been even there for nearly half a century.) Once he gets used to these things, though, he's fascinated. Everything so busy/ Everyone in such a hurry/ The whole ship's complement has turned out to finish loading, even small children - Rafiel is fascinated to see how many children there are. Young and old, they can't wait to start on their long interstellar journey - and aren't very patient with people (even very famous people) who happen to get in their way.

By the time Rafiel had been three days on Hakluyt he was beginning to get used to the fact that he didn't see much of Alegretta. Not when she was awake, at least. When she was awake all she seemed to have time for was to check on his vital signs and peer into her computer screen when she'd stuck sensors to his chest and make sure he was taking his spansules. Then she was off again, looking harried.

They did sleep together, of course, or at least they slept in the same bed. Not necessarily at the same times. Once or twice Rafiel came back to their tiny compartment and found her curled up there, out cold. When she felt him crawl in beside her she reached out to him. He was never quite certain she was awake even when they made love - awake enough to respond to him, certainly, and for a few pleased mumbles when they were through, but nothing that was actually articulate speech.

It was almost good enough, anyway, just to know that she was nearby. Not quite; but still it was fascinating to explore the ship, dodging the busy work teams, trying to be helpful when he could, to stay out of the way, at least, when he couldn't. The ship was full of marvels, not least the people who crewed it (busy, serious, plainly dressed and so purposeful). A special wonder was the vast central space that was a sort of sky as the habitat rotated (but what purpose would it serve when they were under way?). The greatest wonder of all was Hakluyt itself. It was going to go where no human had ever, ever, gone before.

Everything about the ship delighted and astonished. Rafiel discovered that the couch in their room became a bed when they wanted it to, and if they didn't want either it disappeared entirely into a wall. There was a keypad in the room that controlled air, heat, lights, clock, messages - might run all of Hakluyt, Rafiel was amused to think, if he only knew what buttons to push. Or if all the things worked.

The fact was, they didn't all work. When Rafiel tried to get a news broadcast from Earth the screen produced a children's cartoon, and when he tried to correct it the whole screen dissolved into the snow of static. The water taps - hot, cold, potable - all ran merely cold.

When he woke to find exhausted Alegretta trying to creep silently into their bed, he said, making a joke, 'I hope the navigation system works better than the rest of this stuff.'

She took him seriously. Tm sorry,' she said, weary, covetously eyeing the bed. 'It's the powerplant. It wasn't originally designed to drive a ship, only to supply power for domestic needs. Oh, it has plenty of power. But they located the thing midships instead of at the stern, and we had to brace everything against the drive thrust. That means relocating the water reservoirs - don't drink the water, by the way, dear; if you're thirsty, go to one of the kitchens - and- Well, hell,' she finished remorsefully. 'I should have been here.'

Which added fuel to the growing guilt in Rafiel. He took a chance. 'I want to help,' he said.

'How?' she asked immediately - woundingly, just as he had feared she would.

He flinched, but said, 'They're loading more supplies - fresh wing-bean seeds this morning, I hear. At least I can help shift cargo!' 'You can not,' she said in sudden alarm. 'That's much too strenuous! I don't want you dying on me!' Then, relenting, she thought for a moment. 'All right. I'll talk to Borretta, he's loadmaster. He'll find something for you - but now, please, let me come to bed.'

Borretta did find something for him. Rafiel became a children's care-giver in one of the ship's nurseries, relieving for active duty the ten-year-old who had previously been charged with supervising the zero-to-three-year-olds.

It was not at all the kind of thing Rafiel had had in mind, but then he hadn't had much of anything very specifically in his mind, because what did Hakluyt need with a tap-dancer? But he was actually helping in the effort. (The ten-year-old he relieved was quite useful in bringing sandwiches and drinks to the sweating cargo handlers.) Rafiel found that he liked taking care of babies. Even the changing of diapers was a fairly constructive thing to do. Not exactly aesthetic, no. Extremely repetitious, yes, for the diapers never stayed clean. But while he was doing it he thought of the task as prepaying a debt he would owe to whomever, nine months later, would be changing the diapers of his own child.

The ten-year-old was nice enough to teach Rafiel the technical skills he needed for the work. More than that, he was nice enough to be acceptably impressed when he found out just who Rafiel was. ('But I've seen you on the screen! And you've got a new show coming out - when? Soon?') The boy even brought his older brother - a superior and taller version of the same, all of thirteen - around to meet this certified star. When Rafiel had a moment to think of it, between coaxing a two-year-old to take her nap and attempting to burp a younger one, it occurred to him that he was - yes, actually - quite happy. He liked all these strange, dedicated, space-faring people who shared the habitat with him. 'Strange' was a good word for them, though. Unlike all the friends and colleagues he'd spent his life with, these Hakluytisans spoke unomamented English, without loan words, without circumlocutions. They had basically unomamented bodies, too. Their clothes were simply functional, and even the youngest and best-looking wore no jewels.

When Rafiel had pondered over that for a while an explanation suddenly occurred to him. These people simply didn't have time for frills. Astonishing though the thought was, these immortal people were in such a hurry to do things that, even with eternities before them, they had no time to waste.

The day before Hakluyt was to leave, Alegretta somehow stole enough time from her duties to go with Rafiel to the birthing clinic, where they watched the transfer of their almost-child from Nicolette's tiny belly to the more than adequate one of a placid roan mare. It was a surgical spectacle, to be sure, but peaceful rather than gruesome. Even Nicolette did not seem to mind, as long as Alegretta's hand was on her head.

On the way back to their cabin Alegretta was silent. Stranger still, she was dawdling, when always she was in a hurry to get to the work that she had to do.

Rafiel was aware of this, though he was continually distracted by passers-by. The ten-year-old had spread the word of his fame. It seemed that every third person they passed, however busy, at least looked up and nodded or called a friendly greeting to him. After the twentieth or thirtieth exchange Rafiel said, 'Sorry about all this, Alegretta.'

She looked up at him curiously. 'About what? About the fact that they like you? When's this Oedipus going to be released?'

'In about a week, I think.'

'In about a week.' It wasn't necessary for her to point out that in a week Hakluyt would be six days gone. 'I think a lot of these people are going to want to watch it,' she said, musing. 'They'll be really sorry you aren't here so they can make a fuss over you when it's on.'

Rafiel only nodded, though for some inexplicable reason internally he felt himself swelling with pleasure and pride. Then he bent close to her, puzzled at the low-pitched thing she had said. 'What?'

'I said, you could be here,' Alegretta repeated. 'I mean, if you wanted to. If you didn't mind not going back to the Earth, ever, because - oh, God,' she wailed, 'how can you say "Because you're going to be dead in a few weeks anyway so it doesn't really matter where you are" in a loving way?'

She stopped there, because Rafiel had put a gentle finger to her lips.

'You just did,' he said. 'And of course I'll come along. I was only waiting to be asked.'