by John Varley
"Whistlestop has 'em, " he said. "It never fails." Again Cirocco said nothing.
"I'll go first," he said, persuasively. "So you can see." "Uh-huh. Calvin, do I understand this is the only way down? "Short of going about a hundred kilometers east to the plains.
Whistiestop will take you there, but you'll have to walk back through a swamp."
Cirocco looked at the ground, not really seeing it. She breathed in deeply, then exhaled.
"Right. Let's see these chutes." She went to Gaby and touched her shoulders, pulled her gently away from the side wall, and guided her toward the back of the gondola. She was docile as a child. Her shoulders were stiff, and she was shaking.
"I can't really show them to you," Calvin said. "Not until I jump. They're produced when you bail out. Like this."
He reached up and grasped a handful of dangling, white tendrils. They stretched. He began separating them until he had a loose netting. The stuff was like taffy, but held its shape when it wasn't pulled.
He forced one leg through a gap in the netting, then the other. He pulled it up around his hips and it formed a tight basket. He
pushed his arms through more holes until his body was wrapped in a cocoon.
"You've jumped before; you know the drill. Are you a good swimmer?"
'Very good, if my life is at stake. Gaby? You swim well?" It took her a few moments to become aware of them, then a flickering interest grew in her eyes.
"Swim? Sure. Like a fish."
"Okay," Calvin said. "Watch me, and do what I do." He whistled, and a hole irised into being on the floor in front of him. He waved, stepped over the lip, and fell like a stone. Which was not all that fast in one-quarter gravity, but fast enough, Cirocco felt, with an untested chute.
The shrouds spun out behind him like spider silk. Then came a solid, pale blue sheet, tightly bunched together and gone in a second. They looked down in time to see and hear the flutter and crack as the chute opened and grabbed air. Calvin floated down, waving to them.
She gestured to Gaby, who donned the harness. She was so ea- ger to be out that she jumped before Cirocco could check the arrangement.
That's two out of three, she thought, and put her foot through the third set of webs. They were warm and elastic, and comfort- able when she had them in place.
The jump was routine, if anything inside Themis could be so. The chute made a blue circle against the yellow sky above her. It seemed smaller than it should be, but apparently it was enough in the low gravity and high pressure. Grabbing a handful of shrouds, she guided herself toward the river's edge.
She hit standing up and got out of the harness quickly. The chute collapsed on the muddy bank, almost covering Gaby. She stood in knee-deep water and watched Bill coming toward her. It was hard not to laugh. He looked like a pale, plucked chicken with short stubble growing on his chest, his legs, arms, face, and scalp.
She put both hands on her forehead and rubbed them back over her fuzzy scalp, grinning wider as he got closer.
"Am I like you remember me?" she said. "Even better." He splashed through the last few steps between them. He put his arms around her and they kissed. She did not cry, did not feel the need to though she was brimming over with happiness.
Bill and August had done wonders in only six days, working with just the sharp edges of their suit rings. They had built two shacks; a third had two sides and half a roof. They were made from branches tied together and caked with mud. The roofs were slanted and thatched.
"The best we could do," Bill said, as he showed them around. "I was thinking in terms of adobe, but the sun won't dry the mud fast enough. They keep out the wind, and most of the rain."
inside, the huts were two by two meters, covered with a thick layer of dry straw. Cirocco could not stand erect, but didn't think of objecting. Being able to sleep inside was nothing to laugh at.
"We didn't have time to finish the other one before you got here," he went on. "One more day, with the three of you helping. Gaby, this one is for you and Calvin. Me and Cirocco will move into the one over there that August used to have. She says she wants the new one." Neither Calvin nor Gaby said anything, but Gaby was sticking close to Cirocco.
August looked like hell. She had aged five years since Cirocco last saw her. She was a thin, hollow-eyed ghost with hands that shook constantly. She looked incomplete, as if half of her had been hacked away.
"We didn't have time to make a fresh kill today," Bill was say- ing. "We were too busy on the new house. August, is there enough left over from yesterday?"
"I think so," she said. "Wouldyougetit?"
She turned away. Bill caught Cirocco's eye, pursed his lips, and shook his head slowly.
"Nothing at all from April, huh? " he said, softly. "Not a word. Gene, either."
"I don't know wh;at's going to happen to her."
After the meal Bill put them to work fiffishing the third hut. With two for practice, he had it down to a routine. It was tedi- ous, but not physically difficult; they could move large logs easily, but had a terrible time cutting even the smallest ones. As a result, the fruit of their labors was not pretty to look at.
When it was done, Calvin went into the hut he had been as- signed while August moved into another. Gaby seemed at a loss, but finally managed to stammer that she was going to look around the area, and would not be back for several hours. She wandered off, looking forlorn.
Bill and Cirocco looked at each other. Bill shrugged, and gestured toward the remaining hut.
Cirocco sat awkwardly. There were many things she wanted to ask, but she was hesitant to start.
"How was it for you?" she asked, finally.
"If you mean the time between the collision and waking up in here, I'm going to have to disappoint you. I don't remember any of it."
She reached over and probed gently at his forehead.
"No headaches? Dizziness? Calvin should take a look at you."
He frowned. "Was I hurt? "
"Pretty bad. Your face was bloody and you were out cold. That's all I could see in the few seconds I had. But I thought your skull might be broken."
He felt his forehead, ran his fingers around to the sides and back of his head.
"I can't find any tender places. There weren't any bruises, either. Cirocco, I-"
She put her hand on his knee. "Call me Rocky, Bill. You know you're the only one I didn't mind it from."
He scowled, and looked away from her.
"All right, Rocky. That's what I need to talk to you about. It isn't just the... the dark period, August called it. It isn't just that I can't remember. I'm pretty hazy about a lot of things."
"Just how many things?"
"Like where I was born, how old I am, or where I grew up or went to school. I can see my mother's face, but I can't remember her name, or if she's dead or alive." He rubbed his forehead.
"She's alive and very well in Denver, where you grew up," Cirocco said, quietly. "Or she was when she called us on your fortieth birthday. Her name's Betty. We all liked her."
He seemed relieved, then downcast again.
" I'guess that means something ," he said. "I did remember her because she's important to me. I remembered you, too."
sirocco looked into his eyes. "But not my name. is that what you're having trouble telling me? "
"Yeah. " He looked miserable. 'isn't that a hell of a thing? August told me your name, but she didn't tell me I called you Rocky. That's kind of cute, by the way. I like that."
Cirocco laughed. "I've been trying to kill that name most of my adult life, but I always weaken when somebody whispers it in my ear." She took his hand. "What else do you remember about me? You recall I was the Captain?"
"Oh, sure. I remember you were the first female Captain I'd ever served under."
"Bill, in free-fall, it doesn't matter who's on top."
"That's not what I--" He smiled when he realized he was being kidded -"I wasn't sure about that, either. Did we ... I mean were
we... ? "
"Did we fuck?" She shook her head, not in negation, but in wonder. "Every chance we got, as soon as I stopped chasing Gene and Calvin and noticed that the most man on board was my chief engineer. Bill, I hope I don't hurt your feelings, but I kind of like you like this."
"Like what?"
"You couldn't bring yourself to ask if we'd ... been intimate." She made the pause as dramatic as she could, lowering her eyes shyly, and he laughed. "You were like that before we got to know each other. Shy. I think this is going to be like the first time all over again, and the first time is always special, don't you agree?" She blinked at him and waited what she felt was a reasonable time, but he made no move, so she went to him and pressed close. it had not surprised heri she had needed to make her feelings quite clear the other first time, too.
When they broke the kiss he looked up at her and smiled.
" I wanted to tell you that I love you. You didn't give me any time."
"You never said that before. Maybe you shouldn't commit yourself until you get your memory back."
"I think I might not have known I loved you before. Then ... all I was left with was your face and a feeling. "" trust that. And I meant what I said."
"Mmm. You're nice. Do you remember what to do with that?"
"I'm sure it'll come back to me with practice."
"Then I think it's time for you to start serving under me again. "
It was as joyous as a first time, but without the awkwardness that usually goes along with it. Cirocco forgot everything else. There was just enough light to see his face, just enough gravity to make the heaps of straw softer than the finest silk.
The timeless quality of that long afternoon had little to do with the unchanging light of Themis. She didn't have any place she needed to be; there was no need to go anywhere, ever, for anything.
"Now's the time for a cigarette," he said. "I wish I had one."
"And drop your ashes down on me," she teased. "Filthy habit.
I wish I had some cocaine. It all went down with the ship."
"You can go straight. "
He had not withdrawn from her. She remembered how much she had liked that in Ringmaster, waiting to see if things would get going again. With Bill, they usually did.
This time was a little different.
"Bill, I'm afraid I'm getting a little irritated like this."
He eased his weight onto his hands. "The straw hurting your back? I can take a turn underneath if you want."
"It's not the straw, honey, and it ain't my back. It's a little more personal than that. I'm afraid you feel like sandpaper."
"So do you, but I was much too polite to say it." He rolled off and put his arm under her shoulders. "Funny I didn't notice it a few minutes ago."
She laughed. "If you'd grown spikes, I wouldn't have noticed it a few rates ago. But I wish we had our hair back. I fell pretty silly like this, and it's uncomfortable as hell."
"You think you got it had? I'm growing it back all over. It's like fleas square-dancing on my skin. Pardon me while I scratch." He did so, lustily, and Cirocco helped him get the impossible places on his back. "Aaaah. Did I say I loved you? I was crazy, I didn't know what love meant. Now I know."
Gaby chose that moment to walk in the door.
"Pardon me, Rocky, but I was wondering if we should do something about the parachutes. One of them already floated down the river."
Cirocco sat up quickly. "Do what with them?"
"Save them. They might be useful."
"You ... sure, Gaby. You might he right."
"I just thought it would be a good idea." She looked at the floor and shuffled her feet, glanced at Bill for the first time. "Uh ... okay. I thought maybe I ... could make something nice for you." She hurried from the hut.
Bill sat up and put his elbows on his knees. "Was I reading too much into that?"
Cirocco sighed. "I'm afraid not. Gaby's going to be a big problem. She thinks she's in love with me, too."
CHAPTER NINE
"What do you mean, good-bye? Where are you going?"
"I've been thinking it over," Calvin said, quietly. He removed his wristwatch and handed it to Cirocco. "You people can use this better than I can."
Cirocco was about to burst with frustration.
"And that's all the explanation we get? 'I've been thinking it over.' Calvin, we've got to stick together. We're still an exploration party, and I'm still your Captain. We've got to work together toward getting rescued."
He smiled faintly. "And just how are we going to do that?" She wished he hadn't asked that question.
"I haven't had time to work out a plan on that," she said, vaguely. "There's bound to be something we can do."
"You let me know when you think of something." "I'm ordering you to stay with the rest of us."
"How are you going to stop me from leaving if I want to go? Knock me out and tie me up? How much energy is it going to take to guard me all the time? Keeping me here makes me a liability. If I go, I can be an asset."
" What do you mean, an asset?"
"Just that. The blimps can talk around the whole curve of Themis. They're great with news; everybody here listens to them. If you ever need me for anything, I'd come back. All I'd have to do is teach you a few simple calls. Can you whistle?"
"Never mind that," Cirocco said, with an annoyed wave of her hand. She rubbed her forehead, and allowed her body to relax. If she was to make him stay, she had to talk him out of it, not restrain him.
"I still don't see why you want to go. Don't you like it here with us? "
"I ... no, not all that much. I was happier when I was alone. There's too much tension. Too much bad feeling."
"We've all been through a lot. It ought to get better when we get some things straightened out."
He shrugged. "Then you can call me, and I'll try it again. But I don't care for the company of my own kind anymore. The blimps are freer, and wiser. I've never been happier than during that ride."
He was showing more enthusiasm than Cirocco had seen since the meeting on the cliff.
"The blimps are old, Captain. Both as individuals and as a race. Whistlestop is maybe 3000 years old."
"How do you know that? How does he know?"
"There are times of cold, and times of warmth. I figure the-y must be because Themis always stays pointed the same direction. The aids points close to the sun right now, but every fifteen years the rim blocks the sunlight until Saturn moves and brings the other pole back toward the sun. There's years in here, but each of them is fifteen years long. Whistlestop has seen 200 of them."
"Okay, okay," Cirocco said. "That's what we need you for, Calvin. Somehow you're able to talk to these things. You've been learning from them. Some of it might be important to us. Like these six-legged things, what did you call them ... ?"
"Titanides. That's all I know about them." 'Well, you might learn more."
"Captain, there's too much to know. But you've landed in the most hospitable part of Themis. Stay put, and you'll be all right. Don't go into Oceanus, or even Rhea. Those places are dangerous. "
"See? How could we have known that? We need you."
"You don't understand. I can't learn about this place without going to see it. Whistlestop's language is mostly out of my range. "
Cirocco could feel the bitterness of defeat welling up inside her. Damn it, John Wayne would have keelhauled the bastard. Charles Laughton would have clapped him in irons.
She knew it would make her feel a lot better just to take a swing at the obstinate son of a bitch, but that would wear off quickly. She had never commanded like that. She had won and kept the respect of her crew through showing responsibility and using the best wisdom she could bring to bear on any situation. She could face facts, and knew Calvin was going to leave them, but it just didn't feel right.
And why not? she wondered. Because it lessened her authority?
That had to be part of it, and part of it was her responsibil
ity for his welfare. But it came back to the problem she had faced from the beginning of her command: the lack of enough role models for a female ship's Captain. She had determined to examine all assumptions and use only those that felt fight to her. just because it was right for Admiral Nelson in the British Navy did not mean it was right for her.
There had to be discipline, surely, and there had to be authority. Naval Captains had been demanding one and enforcing the other for thousands of years, and she did not intend to throw away all that accumulated experience. Where a Captain's authority was questioned, disaster usually followed.
But space was not the same, generations of science-fiction writers to the contrary. The people who explored it were highly intelligent, individualistic geniuses, the very best the Earth had to offer. There had to be flexibility, and the NASA legal code for deep-space voyages acknowledged it.
Then there was the other factor she could never forget. She no longer had a ship. The worst thing that could ever happen to a Captain had happened to her. She had lost her command. It would be a bitter taste in her mouth for the rest of her life.
"All right," she said, quietly. "You're right. I can't spare the time and energy to guard you, and I don't feel like killing you, except in a figurative sense." She made herself stop when she realized she was sitting her teeth, and deliberately relaxed her jaw. "I'm telling you now that if we get back, I'm bringing you up on charges of insubordination. If you go, it will be against my wishes, and against the interests of the mission."
"I accept that," he said, without emotion. "You'll come to see that the last part is not true. I'll be more use where I'm going than I would be here. But we're not going back to Earth."
"We'll see. Now, why don't you teach somebody how to call blimps? I find I'd rather not be around you."
In the end, Cirocco had to learn the whistle code, because she had the most musical ability. Her sense of pitch was near-perfect, and it was critical to the blimp speech.
There were only three phrases to learn, the longest being seven notes and a trill. The first translated as "good lifting," and was nothing but a polite greeting. The second was "I want Calvin, " and the third was "Help! "