He didn't know why he was so anxious to remain on Erytheia. Mainly it
was because for no good reason he found himself disliking the idea of
making the Jump with her. "If you'd rather, I could build you a city of
your own, Lyddy," he tempted her.
It was obvious that even if she had taken this seriously, it still
wouldn't be what she wanted. "I'd like to go away from here," she told
him. "Far away."
"Just because you want a change--is that it?"
She hesitated. "That's partly it. But there's more. Somehow, ever since
we've been married, I keep feeling all the time like--like I'm being
watched."
His smile was strained. "Well, naturally, in 'Rytheia City, people
will tend to--watch. Let's go far away from where people are. There's
an island on this planet, way off in the western seas. I'll buy you
that island, Lyddy. I'll build you a villa there--a chateau, a castle,
whatever you want."
But she shook her golden head. "No, nothing like that. I want to go to
another system. It's not that I don't want to be where people are. I
like crowds. I just want to be where there are _different_ people."
He forced another smile. "What's gotten into you, Lyddy? In the old
days, you used to be so calm."
* * * * *
She wriggled her shoulders uncomfortably. "I keep seeing things,
shadows that shouldn't be there, reflections of nothing. Only, when I
turn, they don't get out of the way fast enough to be nothing."
"They?" he repeated.
"I only see one at a time, but I don't know if it's always the same
one." She shivered again.
"It must be your nerves." He went on resolutely, "Maybe you do need a
change of scene." Actually it was absurd to feel so apprehensive about
the Jump. She'd be safer in hyperspace in his ship than anywhere else
in the universe. And a large metropolis might provide distractions to
take her mind off--shadows. "How would you like to go to Burdon?"
"That would be real nice!" But she was not as enthusiastic about it as
he had expected.
* * * * *
She laid a hesitant hand on his arm. "Honey," she began tentatively,
"you--you seem to spend so much time all by yourself. Do I bore you?"
"Of course not, dear," he said awkwardly. "It just seems that way to
you. Pressure of business...."
"But why do you play chess with yourself all the time?"
"I've spent so much time in space that I got into the habit of playing
alone. Many spacemen do that."
She bit her painted lip. "Sometimes--sometimes when you're alone in
your room, I hear your voice. Why do you talk to yourself?"
It was an effort for him to meet the beautiful, blank blue eyes. "When
you're alone a lot of the time, sweetheart, you have to hear the sound
of a voice even if it's your own, or you start hearing voices."
"But you have me," she said. "You're _not_ alone. But you still do it."
"Old habits are hard to break, dear."
She looked up at him, trying to force her way past the wall in his
eyes. God help her, he thought, if she ever succeeds. "Would you like
me to learn to play chess?"
"Would you like to?"
"I--don't know," she murmured doubtfully. "I've never been much good
at mind things. But I want to be _everything_ to you."
"You are, sweetheart." He stooped and kissed her. "Don't force yourself
to do anything you don't want to for my sake. I'm used to playing
alone."
"But I want you to do things with _me_!"
"I'll do everything else with you," he promised.
He went to his room and shut the door behind him. But she had heard him
talking there, so sounds must carry through. When they got a place of
their own, he would have the walls and doors sound-proofed. Meanwhile,
it would be safer to go to the ship.
As he came out of the hotel door, he collided with a man who looked
familiar. It took him a moment to identify the sullen, startled face as
belonging to that newest member of his crew, young Something Raines.
"Hello there," he said. "Were you coming to see me?"
"N-no, sir. I was just coming in for a--a pack of Earth smokesticks.
I can't stand those _stinking_ native brands!" The boy spoke with a
viciousness so unsuited to the subject that it was almost funny. He
flushed, perhaps realizing this, perhaps remembering that Mattern was
reputed to hail from this sector. "It's a question of what you're used
to, see?" he mumbled.
"Of course," Mattern agreed pleasantly. "This is your first time on
Erytheia, is it?"
"Yes, my first time here."
"Are you enjoying it?"
"Well, I dunno exactly." There was doubt in the boy's blue eyes.
Something in them seemed familiar, more familiar than just recognizing
one of his own crewmen. He had a look of--who? Of Lyddy? But that was
absurd.
* * * * *
The doubt in Raines' face had changed to fear, and Mattern realized
that he himself must have been just standing there, staring at him. He
laughed. "You're supposed to _enjoy_ Erytheia; it's a pleasure planet."
"Well," the boy said, choosing his words with care, "it's a pretty
enough place, but it's set up more for people with money. I mean
there's nothing here for fellows like me; the pleasure's for the rich
people only. Even the smokesticks cost almost twice as much as anywhere
else."
"We'll probably be leaving soon, so you'll only have to stick it a
little while longer." Mattern's hand went to his pocket, then fell to
his side as he saw the look on the boy's face. If Raines was proud,
Mattern would not offend him by offering him money. "Maybe you'll find
Burdon more to your liking."
"Oh, _yes_, sir!" The young spaceman's face was virtually radiant. _He
must have a girl on Burdon_, Mattern thought, amused.
As he walked over to the landing field where his ship was moored,
he was troubled by the memory of the boy's voice. Not that it was
familiar--but there was the faintest hint of a Far Planets accent.
Provincials as a rule didn't go to the terrestrial space schools, but
it was, of course, possible. Raines must have had an Earth education,
because Mattern followed the rule of the Marine service and never hired
a man who didn't have a degree from one of the space schools. He must
look at the boy's records as soon as he got a chance.
_The Hesperian Queen_ was not a small vessel. She was one of the
newest, fastest, most fully automated models. Moreover, she was large
and she glittered like a dwarf star. Lyddy would get a surprise when
she came to see the ship.
Mattern greeted the crew member on watch and went up to his luxuriously
appointed cabin--suite, really. Inside, a chessboard was set up, as its
counterpart was set up in his hotel room, one side in the light from a
porthole, the other in a corner full of shadows.
The pieces were not only in position, but a game had been started.
Mattern sat down on the bright side and moved a piece.
"Lyddy's aware of you," he told the shadows. "She has no idea of what
you are, of course. But she knows you're around, kqyres. She's half
seen you and it's beginning to bother her. It's beginning to bother me,
too."
* * * * *
Part of the shifting grayness flowed over the board. When it receded,
a knight had changed its place. "Truly, I have tried to be careful," a
quiet, rather tired voice said out of a darkness at the heart of the
shadows, an area that was tenuously substant. "Is it certain that you
yourself have not in some way given her cause for suspicion?"
"Quite certain. I've watched myself night and day." Mattern smiled
ruefully. "Which is damned hard when you're on your honeymoon."
"Is there anyone else who might have spoken of these things to her?"
the kqyres asked.
"No one." Then Mattern remembered the young spaceman he had met coming
into the hotel, who seemed to have a look of Lyddy. But that was
nonsensical. Looking _like_ her didn't mean talking _to_ her. In any
case, what would Raines know that he could tell her? Silly to be so
suspicious. The Golden Apple _was_ one of the few places in Erytheia
City where one could get Earth smokesticks. "No one," Mattern repeated.
"No one at all."
The patterns shifted and darkened. "Then I must be getting careless. I
am growing old."
"Anyone can make a slip," Mattern said reassuringly. "Just try to be a
little more careful, that's all." He moved a rook.
The grayness crept out over the board, touched a bishop, hesitated, and
moved to a pawn. _He is getting old_, Mattern thought pityingly, as he
took the pawn. _Once I could never beat him. Now I win two games out of
three._
"But you are content with the woman?" his partner asked anxiously. "You
are not disappointed with her in any way? She pleases you as much today
as she did when first you set eyes on her?"
"Of course she does! You'd think it was you who'd been dreaming of her
all these years, not me."
"I suppose we shared those dreams...."
"And you'd never seen her." Mattern stared intently at the shadow. "Are
you disappointed, then?"
"Of course not. You know that to me a human woman is merely an object
of art. And she _is_ very beautiful. But I thought she might not have
come up to your expectations. Reality often falls short of dreams." The
shadow's voice tautened. "Has she changed much?"
"Very little," Mattern said, absorbed once more in the game. "You'd
think only a year or two had passed. Surprising how women do it."
The shadow sighed. "Surprising," it agreed, its voice relaxing. "But
then the female sex is mysterious."
* * * * *
They played on a while in silence. The kqyres finally spoke. "You will
need a lot of money to provide an establishment fitting for so lovely a
lady."
"I have a lot of money," Mattern said. "More than enough."
The kqyres flickered so violently that Mattern's eyes hurt. "Not enough
for the things she deserves to have. Jewels, palaces, planets...."
"One thing I know would make it a lot more comfortable for her,"
Mattern suggested. "If only you didn't have to be close to me all the
time, kqyres. If only you could stay on the ship even when I'm not
there. Not that I don't enjoy your company," he added quickly, "but she
seems to be highly strung."
"Do you think I like the situation any better than you? But this is the
way the mbretersha has ordered it."
"I suppose she knows what she's doing," Mattern sighed. In any
case, the mbretersha's orders were absolute and could not be
contravened--otherwise, at least one universe might be destroyed. There
were still so many things he didn't understand and was not likely to
learn.
"Strange," he went on pensively, "that Lyddy should have seen you, when
I hardly can, and I _know_ you're here." He knew, too, that the kqyres
was deliberately vibrating out of phase, so that the horror of his
appearance in this continuum would be spared not only those he chanced
to meet, but also himself. There was always the danger of passing a
mirror. Knowing how the kqyres looked in his own universe, knowing how
he himself looked in the kqyres' universe, Mattern didn't doubt that
any revelation would be a frightful one. However, he couldn't help
being curious.
"I still think someone must have told her where to stare," the shadow
said, "and what for."
"Don't be absurd!" Mattern snapped, outraged at the idea that his
carefully kept secret might not be a secret at all. "Just try to be
careful when she's around. Vibrate harder, or something."
"I shall do my poor best." The shadowy one hesitated. "Do you not think
that if perhaps you were to tell her the truth--"
"Lord, no!" Mattern exclaimed. "She'd take a fit!"
"Once you would not have spoken of her that way," the kqyres said
reproachfully.
"I didn't mean it the way it sounded," Mattern tried to explain. "It's
just that--well, by now I hardly remember what the truth is myself."