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“Now we can lie down and talk,” Deb said, when they had finished eating. “Don’t bother with your dish, throw it on the floor. Washing-up is over for good on the Hero’s Return.”
Her ma
“You said you needed a nap.” Her voice came from a great distance. “You’ve earned one. So relax and take it easy. Close your eyes.”
Relax? Take it easy? When in a few hours you had to put on your suit and slip for the last time into the alien waters of Limbo, and then take an action for which the Mallies were likely to kill you? When you had found someone again after so long apart, and you were going to lose her forever? It was enough to make a man weep — smile — laugh aloud at the cruelty of fate. But that was too much work; better to drift away.
Chan lay still, very aware of the gentle fingers ru
Drugs that produce insensibility rather than death must be calibrated as to dosage. Deb, working quickly and unobtrusively, had been given little chance for precision. She waited for five minutes, monitoring Chan’s pulse and respiration rate.
When she was sure that he was sleeping naturally and in no danger she picked up the sealed envelope. He had asked her to deliver it to Dag Korin. That was exactly what she proposed to do.
The General was in his own quarters, sitting upright in a chair, fully dressed and alert as though expecting visitors. He was sipping a glass of amber liquid.
“Medicinal purposes, my dear,” he said as she entered. “What can I do for you?”
“You said before Chan came back on board that he might write to you when he did, or maybe leave you a message. How did you know?”
“I’m old, Deb Bisson. I’ve seen lots of heroism, public and private. I knew some of the questions Dalton had been asking Dr. Siry, and I thought I knew where they might be leading. So he did write to me?”
“Yes. It’s here.” Deb held out the envelope. “He told me to give it to you after he left.”
“My God.” Korin sat up straighter. “He hasn’t gone, has he?”
“No. He’s asleep.”
“Good. He must have great nerves.”
“Great drugs. My drugs. He’ll be out for a few hours unless I give him a stimulant.” Deb was still holding the envelope out to Korin. “Do you want this, or do you already know what’s inside?”
“I may be old and treacherous, Deb Bisson, but I’m not psychic.” He took the envelope and eyed her shrewdly. “You know what’s in here, don’t you?”
“I do, but not because I looked. Chan told me.”
“And as a reward for that, you gave him a knock-out drop. Hell hath no fury like a woman informed. Well, let’s see what we have here.”
He opened the envelope and read in silence for a few minutes, now and then nodding. Once he glanced up at Deb. “Did he say good-bye to you?”
“He was working up to it. I made him fall asleep before he could.”
“You did the right thing. It’s a
“Do you want me to go and wake Chan, and bring him here?”
“Oh, no. Let the man sleep, he’s earned it. Damn fine report, this, logical and complete and with things in it that I never would have thought of.” The General tapped Chan’s letter. “In fact, with just one or two crucial changes …”
He fell silent, staring at nothing and nodding his head. At last he said to Deb, “This drug that you gave Dalton. What condition will he be in when he wakes up? Groggy, or dopey, or good as new?”
“He’ll wonder where he is for a few minutes. Then he’ll be perfectly normal.”
“Excellent.” Korin gestured to the chair next to him. “Sit down, Deb Bisson, and listen closely. I’ll tell you exactly what we are going to do. And then I have to write a letter of my own.”
36: ESCAPE
Chan was far away from the surface, drifting among the tinted luminous globes that filled the skies of Limbo. He was close to one of the pearly spheres, ready to dive into its misty depths, when he heard a faint voice. It was calling his name, telling him to come back. He descended slowly. He didn’t want to return to a region of chaos and danger. He dropped into darkness, down and down. He could see nothing, but at last he heard someone wheezing, noisily and close by. It took a long time to recognize the unpleasant sound as his own breathing.
He opened his eyes. Deb was still leaning over him.
She said, “I wondered if you would ever wake up. How are you feeling?”
He sat up and put his arms around her. He saw that she was still clutching his letter to Dag Korin. He said, “Don’t deliver that until I’ve left the ship.” His voice sounded hoarse and muffled, as though he had developed laryngitis; but his throat felt fine. He went on, “I’d better be going. You shouldn’t have let me go to sleep like that. What time is it?”
“An hour to dawn.”
“You let me sleep all night! At daybreak I have to—”
She pulled away and placed the letter in his hand. “I didn’t just let you sleep. I drugged you. You have to read this.”
“You drugged me. What for?”
“You have to read this.”
“But I know exactly what’s in it. I wrote it.” Chan paused. The envelope that he was holding said, To Chan Dalton, from Dag Korin. To be opened only after I have left the Hero’s Return.
Bewildered and cotton-brained, Chan opened the envelope. He started to read. Chan Dalton — The actions that you have taken so far, and those which you propose in your letter to me, are unauthorized. They are also inspired. I am a natural optimist, but in the past few days I had seen no possible way for our party to survive. I believe that what you suggest offers that survival chance, together with a hope of return to our own universe.
We will therefore carry out your instructions exactly, with one minor change; namely, you and I will change places. I, rather than you, will deal with the Mallies. You will lead our group, and carry out your own detailed instructions. If you doubt that the Mallies will agree to work with me rather than you, allow me to point out that Friday Indigo, in his meeting here, expressed theirpreference for working with the leader of the group. That’s me. I know the exact Link protocol that you proposed to follow, because at my request Elke gave me the same thing. The Mallies will presumably ask where you are. When they do, I will explain that I was obliged to kill you, and that my degree of self-interest equals or exceeds yours. It is my impression that such an explanation will be readily accepted. If they want me to shoot or kill one or two of them to prove my resolve or goodwill, I’ll be more than happy to oblige.
Deb was reading over Chan’s shoulder. He turned to her. “Did you give him my letter while I was asleep?”
“Yes, I did.”
“After I specifically told you not to?”
“Yes.” Deb backed away a step. “Chan, this may not make any sense to you, but if you hadn’t come back, and if you hadn’t told me you were sorry, and you hadn’t confided in me, I could have let you go. I mean, I would obviously have had no choice, because I wouldn’t have known what was happening. But I would have got over you. Somehow. Only when you did tell me, and trust me, and rely on me, I just couldn’t stand to lose you. Not again. I’d rather die. Once was too many.”