Time Enough For Love

COUNTERPOINT-I

The chair gently transferred Lazarus to his bed while the technicians silently supervised. Then the shorter watched the readouts on respiration, heart action, brain rhythms, and other physicals while the taller placed the documents, old will and new, in an impervolope, sealed it, chopped and thumb-printed the seal, marked it "Surrender only to the Senior and/or Mr. Chairman Pro Tem," then retained it until their reliefs arrived.

The relief chief technician listened to the record of the watch, glanced over the physicals, studied the sleeping client.

"Timed," he stated.

"Neolethe. Thirty-four hours."

He whistled. "Another crisis?"

"Less severe than the last. Pseudopain with irrational irascibility. Physicals within limits for this stage."

"What's in the sealer?"

"Just sign for it and include delivery instructions in your receipt."

"Pardon me for using up oxygen!"

"Your receipt, please."

The relief wrote out a receipt, chopped and thumbed it, swapped it for the impervolope. "I relieve you," he said brusquely.

"Thank you."

The shorter technician was waiting at the door. The Master Chief Technician paused to say, "You needn't have waited. It sometimes takes me three times this long to turn over the watch. You are free to leave as soon as the relief junior watch officer arrives."

"Yes, Master Chief Technician. But this is a very special client-and I thought you might need me with Mr. Snoopy Nose."

"I can cope with him. Yes, a very special client indeed and it speaks well for you that the Skills Board assigned you to me when your predecessor opted out."

"Thank you!"

"Don't thank me, Associate Technician." The voice, although distorted by helmet and relay and filter, sounded gentle even though the words were not. "That was not a compliment but a statement of fact. If you had not done well on your first watch, there would be no second watch-as you say, 'a very special client.' You did well...aside from nervousness a client can feel even though he can't see your face. But you'll get over that."

"Uh...I hope so. I was very nervous!"

"I would rather have an assistant keyed up tight than one who knows it all and is sloppy. But you should be home now and resting. Come along; I'll drop you off. Where do you robe? The intermediate lounge? I go past it."

"Oh, don't bother about me! But I'll ride with you if I may-then take the car back."

"Relax! Once off duty, there are no ranks among us who follow the Vocation. Didn't they teach you that?" They moved past the queue at the public transports, on past the Director's own, stopped at the smaller bank for executives.

"Yes, but-I've never been assigned to anyone of your rank before."

That got a chuckle. "All the more, reason to follow that rule with me-because the higher one is, the more one needs to forget it off duty. Here's an empty car. In you go and sit down."

The shorter one went in but did not sit down until the Master Chief Technician was seated. The boss rejuvenator ignored it, set the controls, sprawled out, and sighed, as the car started to move. "I feel the strain myself. Coming off watch, I feel as old as he is."

"I know. I'm wondering if I can take it. Chief? Why won't they let him terminate? He seems so tired."

The answer was slow and not responsive. "Don't call me 'Chief.' We're off duty."

"But I don't know your name."

"Nor do you need to know it. Hmm- The situation is not quite as it appears to be; he has suicided four times already."

"What?"

"Oh, he doesn't remember it. If you think his memory is bad now, you should have seen him three months ago. Actually, it speeds up our work every time he does it. His switch-when he had it-was gimmicked; it simply made him unconscious, then we would go ahead with whatever stage was next while hypnoing more of his memory tapes into him. But we had to stop that-and remove the switch-a few days ago; he remembered who he is."

"But- That's not by the Canons! 'Death is every man's privilege.'"

The Master Chief Technician touched the emergency control; the car continued on, found a parking pocket, and stopped. "I did not say that it was covered by the Canons. But watch officers do not set policy."

"When I was accepted, I took the oath...and part of it was to 'give life freely to those who wish it...and never refuse death to those who yearn for it.'"

"Don't you think I took the same oath? The Director is so angry that she has gone on leave-she may resign; I wouldn't venture to guess. But the Chairman Pro Tem is not of our Vocation; he is not bound by our oath, and the motto up over the entrance means nothing to him. His motto is-or seems to be-'Every rule has exceptions.' Look, I knew I would have to have this talk with you and I'm pleased that you've given me an opportunity before our next watch. Now I must ask you-do you wish to opt out? It won't affect your record; I'll see to that. Don't worry about a relief; the Senior will still be asleep when I next go on watch and any assistant will do for that watch-which leaves time for the Skills Board to select your replacement."

"Uh- I want to attend him. It's a great privilege, one I never dreamed would come my way. But I'm torn. I don't think he's being treated fairly. And who is more entitled to fair treatment in this than the Senior?"

"I'm torn by it, too. I was shocked silly the first time I realized that I was being ordered to keep alive a man who had terminated voluntarily. Or who had been allowed to think that he was terminating, rather. But, my dear colleague, the choice is not up to us. This job will be done no matter what we think. Once I realized that-well, I am not lacking in professional confidence-call it conceit. I think I am the best-qualified senior watch officer on the list. I decided that, if the Families' Senior was going to have this done to him, I would not opt out and let it be done by colleagues less skilled than I am. Bonuses had nothing to do with it; I've assigned my bonuses to the Sanctuary for Defectives."

"I could do that, couldn't I?"

"Yes, but you would be a fool to do so; I draw far more than you do. But I must add this: I hope your body tolerates stimulants easily because I supervise every major procedure and expect my assistant to help, whether it falls during our regular watch or not."

"I don't need stimulants; I use autohypnosis. When needed. Seldom. He'll be asleep our next watch. Mmm-"

"Colleague, I want your answer now. So that I can notify the Skills Board if necessary."

"Uh- I'll stick! I'll stick as long as you do."

"Good. I thought you would." The Master Chief Technician again reached for the controls. "Intermediate lounge now?"

"Just a moment. I would like to know you better."

"Colleague, if you stick, you'll know me far too well. I have a sharp tongue."

"I meant socially, not professionally."

"Well!"

"You are offended? I've come to admire you without ever having seen you. Now I would like to see you. I'm not trying to curry favor."

"I believe you. Grant me the respect of believing that I studied your psych scores before I accepted the Board's choice. No, I'm not offended; I'm flattered. Dinner together sometime, perhaps?"

"Certainly. But I had more in mind. What would you say to 'Seven Hours of Ecstasy'?"

There was a short pause, which felt long. The Master Chief Technician said, "Colleague, what sex are you?"

"Does it matter?"

"I suppose not. I accept. Now?"

"If it suits you."

"It does. I was simply going to my compartment, read a while, and sleep. Shall we go there?"

"I was thinking of taking you to Elysium."

"No need to. Ecstasy is in the heart. But thank you."

"I can afford it. Uh, I'm not dependent on my salary. I can easily afford the best Elysium has to offer."

"Perhaps another time, dear colleague. But a resident's compartment here in the Clinic is quite comfortable and at least an hour closer not counting the time we would waste getting out of isolation armor and dressed to face the public. We'll go straight to my place. I find I'm eager. Goodness, I haven't chanced this sort of lark in-far too long."

Four minutes later the Master Chief Technician let them into the compartment-large, as promised, and handsome and airy-a "happy" suite. A simulacrum fire blazed merrily in a corner fireplace and cast dancing lights around the lounging room. "You'll find a guests' dressing room through that door, 'fresher beyond it. The chute for disposables is on the left, racks for helmets and isolation gear on the right. Need help?"

"No, thank you, I'm quite limber."

"Well, shout if you need anything. Meet me here in front of the fire in ten minutes, say?"

"Suits."

The Associate Tech came out in only a little over ten minutes, free at last of isolation armor and looking even shorter in bare feet and without helmet. The Master Chief Tech looked up from the hearth rug. "Oh, there you are! You're male! I'm surprised. But pleased."

"And you're female. And I am very pleased. But I don't believe for an instant that you are surprised. You've seen my records."

"No, dear," she denied. "Not your personal dossier, just the brief the Board supplies to a prospective supervisor-and they are meticulously careful to keep name and sex and other irrelevancies out of it; their computer program sees to that. I did not know, and my guess was wrong."

"I didn't try to guess. But I certainly am pleased. I don't know why I have this special liking for tall women. But I do. Stand up and let me look at you."

She squirmed lazily. "What an irrational criterion. All women are the same height-lying down. So come lie down here; it's very comfortable."

"Woman, when I say 'Stand up!' I expect action."

She giggled. "You're an atavism. But pretty." She made a long arm, got him by an ankle, snatched him off balance. He went down. "That's better. Now we're the same height."