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Updated: October 2, 2025
And Calhoun noted that they were no better fed than the guards at the spaceport. They regarded Calhoun and Maril with oddly burning, eyes. It was, of course, because the two of them showed no signs of hunger. They obviously had not been on short rations. Darians had this, now, to increase a hatred which was inevitable anyhow, directed at all peoples off their own planet.
Calhoun deliberately went for weeks between uses of his recordings, so that music was an event to be looked forward to and cherished. When he tapered off the stirring symphonies of Kun Gee with tranquilizing, soothing melodies from the Rim School of composers, Maril regarded him with a very peculiar gaze indeed. "I think I understand now," she said slowly, "why you don't act like other people.
Dense white fog came out of it. There was motion. Calhoun followed the fog out of the lock. He carried objects which had been weightless, but were suddenly heavy in the ship's gravity-field. There were two spacesuits and a curious assortment of parcels. He spread them out, flipped aside his faceplate, and said briskly, "This stuff is cold! Turn a heater on it, will you, Maril?"
Murgatroyd grabbed. The stars went out and the universe reeled and the Med Ship became a sort of cosmos all its own. Calhoun yawned again. "Now there's nothing to be done for a day or two," he said wearily, "and I'm beginning to understand why people sleep all they can, on Dara. It's one way not to feel hungry." Maril said tensely; "You're going back? After they took the ship from you?"
"I wouldn't say that," protested Calhoun. "After all, he is desirable to you, which is something I couldn't manage." "You didn't try," said Maril. "Just as I didn't try to be fascinating to you. Why?" Calhoun spread out his hands. But he looked at Maril with respect. Not every woman could have faced the fact that a man did not feel impelled to make passes at her.
There were three men with heavy-duty blast-rifles. One was the one Calhoun had burned out of his hiding place. That man's rifle exploded when the flames hit it. Two remained. One, so Calhoun presently discovered was working his way behind underbrush to a shelf from which he could shoot down at Calhoun. Calhoun had dropped into a hollow and pulled Maril to cover at the first shot.
There was an armed guard in the control-room of the ship. He'd watched Calhoun a good part of the previous day as Calhoun performed his mysterious work. He'd been off-duty and now was on duty again. He was bored. So long as Calhoun did not touch the control-board, though, he was uninterested. He didn't even turn his head when Maril led the way into the other cabin and slid the door shut.
He worked busily for minutes, checking the position of the Wealdian landing-grid, which was mapped in the Sector Directory, against the look of continents and seas on the half-disk so plainly visible outside. He found what he wanted. He put on the ship's solar system drive. "I wish," he complained to Maril, "I wish I could think straight the first time! And it's so obvious!
Even then there were matters to be attended to. All the food-supplies that had been removed could not be replaced. There were biological samples to be replaced and some to be destroyed.... The air-tanks.... Maril came to the Med Ship again when he was almost ready to leave. She did not seem comfortable. "I wish you could like Korvan," she said regretfully. "I don't dislike him," said Calhoun.
"I'm sorry," he repeated, "Drink your coffee!" "I don't want it," she said bitterly. "I'd like to die!" "If you stay around where I am," Calhoun told her, "you may get your wish. All right. There'll be no more questions, I promise." She turned and moved toward the door to the sleeping-cabin. Calhoun looked after her. "Maril," he called out to her. "What?" "Why were you crying?"
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