* * * * *
One week passed. One week, filled to the very brim with all of those
routine things that make life full of wonder--as to whether there
isn't something better in the hereafter. The sheer millions of miles
of gravitic-induced space-warp refracted Sol's light endlessly and
perfectly to make for Pluto a synthetic sun that sported a dozen
darting points. On Pluto, men lived and worked and pursued happiness,
and the valuable ore came up from the ground in the Styx Valley and
created the need for Pluto and the lens. Over Mephisto, the smelters
cast their glow against the sky, which the inhabitants of Hell always
called "The Eternal Fire." Across the River Styx from Hell, Sharon lay
like a city of marble by day and a string of pearls by night.
Nor was Hell, as seen from Sharon, any less beautiful. The twin cities
of Pluto, rivals in everything, fought as usual. And the bone of
contention for that particular week was a simple, age-old epithet. It
is a sorry fact that with the entire solar system running as it always
did, Sharon and Hell found it possible to make the headlines of all the
cities of the system by their arguments.
Sharon lost. Hell succeeded in bringing to mind the fact that Hell,
Pluto, was a fine place to be, and the poor citizens of Sharon were
forced into second consideration. But then, Sharon had not been a
running business for centuries.
_Go to Sharon!_ had no familiar ring.
But the Road to Hell was a broad highway.
McBride looked up as the door to his office opened, and his jaw fell
away down to here. He blinked. He looked again, and then jumped to his
feet. "She found you!" he said.
"Who found who?" asked Steve Hammond. "Has that dame--?"
"Drake? Yep. She came here and we fixed that drive for her. She's
changed, Steve. Even I can see it."
"So she was here?"
"You bet. Sandra has changed."
"Has she?"
"Why, Steve, she was actually worried about you. Near frantic."
"Was she?"
"She may have concealed it from you. After all, she's been a pretty
hard-boiled girl and the change is a little abrupt. She's probably
concealing her real feelings."
"Would she?"
"Probably. After all she's said about men in general, she's probably
fighting an internal battle. But she let it go right here."
"Did she?"
"Did she! Why, she tried to hook up the super drive herself, and
when it didn't work, she came here for help. I'd say she was really
interested in finding you. Going out of her way to help you, Steve, is
quite a difference from the Sandra as I know her."
"Do you?"
"Say! What is the matter with you? 'Has she?' 'Was she?' 'Would she?'
'Did she?' is that the best you can do?"
"Look, John, how long ago was that?"
"About a week or so."
"What did she do, exactly."
"She came here and told us that you've been a month or six weeks
overdue on that trip to Sirius. She wanted the drive fixed so that she
could go out and look for you. I offered to go along, but she said no.
So we fixed her drive and she took off like the devil was in her hair."
"Mac, you're a sucker!"
"Oh, now look--"
"So she's changed, has she? Full of remorse. Sputtering like a leaky
alphatron field because she was hamstrung without a drive. Her heart
was reeking with love for me, and she wanted, if she couldn't have me,
to go out into the deep, unknown void of interstellar space and die
where I had died, so we could be together in that last, long resting
place."
"What are--"
"So John, please, for the small help I was to you, and for the love of
Steve that lies within both of us, give me the drive so that I may go
forth and seek he whom I crave. I want so little, John, and Steve is
such a fine fellow--"
"Say! Have I been took?"
"The proper word is 'Taken' and the answer is in the affirmative."
"I'll be damned."
"You probably will," smiled Hammond. "Mac, all that dame wanted was to
be the first human being to set foot on another, extra-solarian planet!
She wanted to be known as the first person to ever seek another star."
"I take it that you haven't been further than a long stone's throw?"
"Shucks. I haven't even been out to the Los Angeles city limits."
"Darn her hide!"
"Yeah. I've been looking for her--and I'm as big a dope as you. I
wanted to offer her the chance to pilot the _Haywire Queen_ out there.
I couldn't find her in the inner system and so I was going to take a
squint at Pluto. I stopped off to ask if you'd care to take the run
with me."
"You know I would."
"Well, that takes care of both answers. Drake is on her way--shucks,
she's there already--and the second part is you--and you want to go."
"I'll ask Enid," said McBride. "Come on, we'll go right down and see
her now."
* * * * *
Enid McBride smiled. "His asking me is a matter of form," she told
Hammond. "Naturally he'll go. I think it will be swell for him to go.
He needs a vacation anyway."
"But--"
"No buts. You'll go and like it. I wouldn't want you to miss anything
like this for the world."
"How about you?"
Enid smiled again. "I'm no pioneer type, John. You know that. I'd be
out of place--and what would John Junior do? Oh, we could leave him
with Anna, if I wanted to go, but somehow this is as far as I care to
get from home--my folk's home, I mean. It's funny how after seven years
a woman still speaks of her parents' home as her home in spite of the
fact that she has a home and family of her own."
"What'll you do?"
"I'm going to take this opportunity to go home--my parents' home, I
mean. You see, Steve, Dad and John talk different languages. Dad is a
metal broker on Pluto. The only reason why he tolerated John at all was
because John's lens kept Dad in business. Dad wouldn't know a cupralum
pig from an acceleration cushion, though he deals in a million tons
of the stuff every year. It's all on paper. On the other hand, John
wouldn't know how to sell the stuff, but he sure can make it do tricks.
So they sit and glare at one another and each one wonders how the other
makes a living. Dad's money is obvious, and John's success is equally
well-known, but how and why are lost on each other.
"So I keep 'em as far apart as I can."
"I get it," smiled Hammond. "Pretty bad, hey?"
Enid laughed, "This ring is pure iridium. Dad was horrified because
he first thought that iridium was radioactive like radium and that
I'd get burned or worse. Then he found out it wasn't--and offered to
buy a real, honest-to-goodness platinum ring if John couldn't afford
it. Then he discovered that iridium is so rare that they do not have
a market price per gram and that was all right, but he also confused
it with iodine, and worried about its chemical action on my hand. Poor
Dad still is not sure about it, so he has to inspect it every time he
sees it to ascertain whether or not it is turning green, or my finger
is falling off, or that it hasn't sublimed and disappeared. You can't
detect the wearing, so Dad then accuses John of either buying a new one
every time I come home or making me keep it in a safe while I'm here."
"Cupralum, to Enid's father, is something that he shunts around by
signing papers and which, if he shunts fast enough, will increase his
bank account, though if the other guy shunts faster, will cause him no
end of deficit. Space, to him, is something that you can't breathe, and
the stars are little bits of brightness that twinkle on a clear night.
Oh, we get along," smiled McBride. "After all, he's Grandpa now, and
John Junior is likely to get a slab of Cupralum. Preferred, for his
birthday. The kid'll prefer something he can chew on, I'll bet."
"So that's neither here nor there," said Enid. "You take your space
hop, and I'll take Little Johnny to Pluto to see his grandparents.
Frankly, Steve, I've been wondering just what excuse I could use to run
off alone for a month. This makes it perfect."
"We'll stop at Hell on the way back and pick you up," said McBride.
"Fine. How soon are you leaving?"
Hammond said: "Anytime he's ready. How soon can you cut loose from the
lens, John?"
"Give me an hour to get things cleaned up and I'll be on the beam."
"Right."
"I'll pack you a bag," said Enid. "Have any preferences?"
"Shirts, shoes, socks, and shaving kit, mostly."
"Want your dinner clothing?"
"Oh sure. And pack my swimming suit, too. Also my tennis racket, and
see that the golf bag has plenty of spare balls. Have Timmy wax the
skis and sharpen my skates, and I'll also take along the shotgun, a pup
tent, the oil stove, a fur coat, a quart of whiskey, six lemons, an
orange, a lime, and a bottle of Angostura. Might pack me a light lunch,
too."
"Don't bother, Enid. We've got most of that stuff with us," laughed
Hammond.
"All right," chuckled Enid. "He'll get one shirt and a bar of soap;
one pair of socks, and a bar of soap; and so on--with a bar of soap.
Well, keep 'em coasting, Steve, and see that he doesn't run off with
any red-headed witches."
"If we see any, I'll bring 'em back for me," laughed Steve. "See you
later."
McBride was not as abrupt as he sounded. His business clean-up
consisted of dictating a letter, putting all things in the hands of
his chief assistant. The rest of the time he spent with Enid, saying
good-by. Whatever transpired, whatever they discussed, whatever plans
they made--and they must have talked of many things and made many
plans, for in spite of the familiarity of running all over the solar
system, this was a big step, indeed, since for the first time in
history, man and wife would be light-years apart--they did it well
enough in private so that their parting was simple and quick.