Bucky Shannon sniffled again. I said irritably, "Be reasonable, Gow!
Nobody's ever seen a male _cansin_. There may not even be any."
Gertrude screamed again. She didn't move, not even to raise her head.
The sadness just built up inside her until it had to come out. That
close, the screech was deafening, and it turned me all limp and cold
inside. The loneliness, the sheer stark, simple pain....
Bucky Shannon began to cry. I snarled, "You'll have to snap her out of
this, Gow. She's driving the rest of 'em nuts."
He hammered on his gong, and things quieted down again. Gow stood
looking out over the tank, sniffing a little, like a hound. Then he
turned to Gertrude.
"I saved her life," he said. "When we bought her out of Hanak's wreck
and everybody thought she was too hurt to live, I saved her. I know
her. I can do things with her. But this time...."
He shrugged. He was huge and tough and ugly, and his voice was like a
woman's talking about a sick child.
"This time," he said, "I ain't sure."
"Well for Pete's sake, do what you can. We got a charter, and we need
her." I took Shannon's arm. "Come to bed, Bucky darlin'."
He draped himself over my shoulder and we went off. Gow didn't look at
us. Bucky sobbed.
"You were right, Jig," he mumbled. "Circus is no good. I know it. But
it's all I got. I love it, Jig. Unnerstan' me? Like Gow there with
Gertrude. She's ugly and no good, but he loves her. I love...."
"Sure, sure," I told him. "Stop crying down my neck."
We were a long way from the light, then. The cages and tanks loomed
high and black over us. It was still. The secret, uneasy motion all
around us and the scruffing of our feet only made it stiller.
Bucky was almost asleep on me. I started to slap him. And then the mist
rose up out of the darkness in little lazy coils, sparkling faintly
with blue, cold fire.