"Sounds good to me," I agreed. "David?"
He nodded. "I'll make that instruction part of Josephine's standard operation procedure with my next command," he said, and bent over the mapper again.
"Shirley," asked Jinjur seriously, "do you think there is any chance at all that we could raise the Dragonfly?"
Shirley's response was flat. She hates to be defeated!
"No. The lander is sitting right on top of it, and I don't think even the flouwen could rock it off. Besides, it doesn't have its wings on, and without the buoyancy supplied by the wing tanks, it would just sit there. The wing segments, and the rudder, and the liquid metal radiator loop in the rudder, were all destroyed by the engine burnthrough and crash. The radiator loops in the two horizontal stabilizers do still work, so the nuclear reactor is properly cooled, and that means there's still lots of power. It's just all on the inside of the plane, is all," she ended sadly.
John grunted. "I'm just glad it's right side up. The deck angle doesn't seem to be too steep. I should be able to work, if I can get down there."
The water roiled behind me, and I put an ear below the surface to hear Little Red complaining.
"Heavy! I do all hard work."
Quickly I called some others and between us we relieved Little Red of the burden of the detached dome.
"D'you bring the O-rings?" asked Shirley anxiously.
"Here are small hard things, and thin torus thing," came the voice of Little White, as he held out the nuts, bolts, washers and O-rings. "Now I go down to help Little Purple with the other heavy thing."
With the safe landing of the two domes, the flouwen moved off to watch, commenting freely on Shirley's activities. It took several pairs of hands, working carefully under Shirley's direction, to position the two domes together.
"I really hate to rely on a seal between two 0-rings," fussed Shirley.
"Yes," agreed Carmen. "Having a flat surface on one would certainly help. Thank goodness there's still plenty of silicone grease in this groove. We'd better be really careful not to get any sand into it!"
"Richard? Nels? Help us get this thing into the water for a test dive!"
The assembly seemed to me to have gone with amazing speed, but I suppose its because this device is so extremely simple, without the complicated technology to which I am accustomed.
"How deep are you going to send it for a test?" I asked.
Shirley considered. "At least fifty meters deeper than the plane," she said slowly. "And then we should have a complete, timed run-through, with the Christmas Branch removing the bolts and opening the bell while it is inside the airlock. The air in the bell will be limited and we need to know how long it will take."
"Wait a minute," interjected David. "There are spare suit air tanks in the airlock. I can direct the Christmas Branch to put one of them in the bell, this first trip. That way there'll be an emergency air supply right inside."
"Good idea," said Jinjur. "And if it can locate a flashlight to include, tell it to get that in too. Nice to have light if you need it."
"Lunch?" Arielle's voice was hopeful. Shirley began to protest.
"The dive will only take few minutes!" But Arielle's comment made me think of something.
"As long as the diving bell will be empty on this first trip, why not take advantage of the chance to carry a cargo that's expendable, like some decent food and spices from the galley?"
"Sounds good to me," agreed David. "I can have the Christmas Branch send up ten or twenty of our special meals."
Shirley's expression revealed a sudden recollection of her favorite shish-kebab feasts, and she readily agreed to utilize the first trip of our improvised vessel for a frivolous cargo.
After briefing Josephine on our plans, we called the flouwen and sent them plummeting downward, tugging the now completed diving saucer between them. The trip was made without apparent incident, and all the seals proved, to Shirley's relief, to have been opened and resealed with no leakage. The 'payload,' if I may apply such an official title to the motley collection of packages which lay before us, was in perfect condition, and Carmen and Nels happily divided the packages up between them and carried them up the hill.
Shirley was still examining the inside of the metal domes. An airtank and flashlight were neatly held down inside by straps glued to the metal, and there was just enough room for one person left. The closeness of the fit was a bit of an advantage, as it meant the passenger would be less likely to be bumped around; however, the thought of a dizzying tumble down in the darkness was distinctly unpleasant.
"We really ought to have a lot more test-trips," fretted Shirley. "I'm still not happy about those O-ring seals. But since we don't have a back-up bell anyway, we might as well proceed to a manned dive. I'll go first."
John was quick to disagree with this. "The main reason we're planning these descents is to get to that sick bay and do the operation reversals. It's essential that I be there, so I'll go down first. I'll need to set up the sick bay and get ready. First I'll check out my control of Josephine's surgical capabilities by having the Christmas Branch hook up the left side of me using a local. Then I'll pass the word up. Nels and Richard and David should come down next, one at a time. It's been quite a while since I attempted even minor surgery using the Christmas Branch, and I'd prefer to start with . . .the simpler operations. I can do all three of those today." He paused, and the immediacy and risk of this appalling project sank into my mind anew. "The women will each need to stay down for a full day, to be monitored during recovery for any complications. But I don't anticipate any trouble."
So saying, John stepped over to the little bell, and turned to look at us appraisingly. I think, even now, we might have sensibly reconsidered, but there was something just faintly superior in the smile he directed at the three men. I felt, rather than actually saw, the little ripple of jealousy that swept through them, and then Richard's voice spoke, a trifle harshly.
"Well, go ahead, make yourself comfortable and we'll seal you up!" Nels moved to help, and the diving bell was quickly released to the waiting flouwen.
They were soon back—they have already become adept at handling the diving saucer, and each trip became swifter. Through the sonar mapper we heard John's voice, assured but tinny, as he located and set up his small surgery.
When at length he pronounced himself ready, his first patient sped on his way, followed rapidly by the other two men. It was apparent immediately that John had not exaggerated his own skill, nor that of the Christmas Bush. With the assistance of the incredibly strong but minute "fingers" on the ends of its branches, only the tiniest incision is necessary, and the men each returned obviously relieved. Shirley wanted very much to make the next descent; she insisted it is because she wants to recheck the safety of the little vessel and the aerospace plane itself, and, politely, we didn't contradict her.
Our dinner that evening, then, was a strange occasion, with John and Shirley absent at the bottom of the lagoon. We all enjoyed a full meal of our most favorite dishes, and the aroma of Richard's corned beef and cabbage was as unique on the warm wind of this alien world as that of Cinnamon's garlicky pasta. My own spicy chili, rich with meat and peppers, tasted better than ever it had aboard Prometheus, but I was not particularly hungry for it. I offered to share it with the others, something we have never done with our "specials" before. Of course, always before these special meals were designedly selfish; purely personal treats, for those occasions when one felt the need for a little self-indulgence. Now, in these primitive surroundings, it seemed a final, formal celebration of a past from which we were forever separated. The thought of sharing the varied tastes was a surprise to the others, but they agreed quickly, and the little tidbits were ceremoniously passed around. I think everyone was a little curious about the other dishes, but mainly partook of this strange buffet because they know such an opportunity will not occur again. I myself enjoyed all the wildly different flavors, but took only the tiniest of tastes of
each, as one after another tasted my chili and reached hastily for the water bucket! Arielle, indeed, reached out a slender hand to touch my throat, and murmured, questioning, "Asbestos?"
We lingered long, savoring the last of those flavors so reminiscent of a world millions of miles away. In the back of our thoughts, the welfare of John and Shirley, deep in the dark waters of the lagoon, was a constant concern. Occasionally we heard a casual remark from the sonar scanner, but all seemed serene.
Finally, I got up briskly to begin the dreary but essential cleaning up. We take the task in strict rotation, and because I dislike it so, I have become swift and efficient, and it was quickly done. I returned to my place with a sigh, then, to listen as David's fingers moved over the holes in his tenor recorder, rescued by him from the lander, bringing forth old, old songs—simple songs, old even on earth, of home, and love, sorrow and joy. Nearby, Nels's pencil hovered over some of his precious paper, sketching with meticulous precision the structure of the Jolly. Cinnamon stood, and stretched, and moved to add wood to the fire, making the bright sparks leap upward from the blaze. Arielle and Jinjur chuckled softly over some small joke, sipping from steaming cups, and Richard moved his feet closer to the warmth, and lay back, yawning contentedly.
As I studied the little group, I heard, without really noticing, the differences in the sound. David was trying first the professional recorder he had salvaged from the lander, and then the primitive small flute he had made. The pure, dispassionate perfection of the notes from the more sophisticated instrument contrasted sharply with the breathy softness of the short range of which the simple one was capable. With a sudden surge of feeling, I realized I preferred the more human, imperfect tones! But I said nothing.
Shall I take my turn, when it comes? Shall I join the others in their plan to bring children into Eden? No one would blame me, if I choose to remain apart. But, if I choose to participate, possibly to regain the potential for having a baby, I must do so soon. I have only a few days! I have stayed awake most of this night, thinking and thinking, and I am so tired. But I have decided.
I cannot separate myself from these people. They are all I have, and they are important to me. Maybe I shall never become pregnant. Maybe, if I ever do, it will be very bad. Maybe we are taking foolish risks. But I shall join my people in their risk-taking, and I shall do it the minute Shirley returns.
COURTING
Well, it was not particularly traumatic, after all. The trip down in the diving saucer was dark, cramped, and dizzying, but mercifully brief. And the surgery was almost as brief! There was no pain, although it felt peculiar in the extreme, after weeks of independence, to allow the intrusion of the Christmas Branch. John's remote manipulation of the various tiny tools was swift and as non-invasive as possible, and I made an effort to trust their expertise and relax.
John's manner to me was grave and polite, as always, and I maintained a cheerful composure I was far from feeling. John sensed this, I think, for he did ask, suddenly, "Aren't you being hypocritical, Reiki? You must be still reluctant about this whole project, so are you just pretending to be agreeable?"
"Certainly!" I answered, startled into honesty. But I did explain a little: "It helps, you know. More false cheer and less honest griping makes it easier all round."
It seemed very strange to be back in the Dragonfly, and to know it was so hopelessly submerged by the dark water. I tried not to look at the black windows, and as soon as Josephine had completed the battery of tests and examinations she required of me, I turned my attention to the accessible ship's lockers.
For most of my day of recuperation and observation I was busy, sorting and selecting objects suitable to take back with me. We are all doing this, and it calls for considerable thought; the items must fit within the diving bell, and be of genuine worth in our present non-technological situation. With regret, I passed over my discs of favorite books and music, in favor of coils of useful wire and sturdy containers. Of course, I had no way of playing those discs in Eden—I should have to manage without the precise directions for creating true Valenciennes, and without the rules of Victorian fan etiquette! These volumes of such exquisite refinements had made me chuckle, and I had never longed for a society in which women were placed so protectively on pedestals that they could not take a free step; but my current style of living seemed to give new meaning to the term "rude." Considering this, I firmly added yet another lacy collar to my choices. Then, more sensibly, I gathered an armful of fresh, unworn slippers and sandals. Fitting the practical bits and pieces compactly around me, I submitted again to the confinement of the bell, and was soon scrambling out onto the shore. Arielle was waiting, ready and relaxed.
"I want to play with little sub, later!" She smiled.
Five days later it was all over, and John returned to the surface. That night, as we rested, he addressed us women in his coolest clinical tones:
"You all probably know this, but I'm going to remind you anyway, since things are slightly different here on Eden. Living so closely together on Prometheus tended to synchronize your menstrual cycles, and they haven't drifted too far apart yet, so all of you were just past your normal ovulation time when Josephine and I did the operation. It is very unlikely you will get pregnant between now and your next period. You will then be fertile, if everything proceeds as we planned it, between fourteen and sixteen Earth days after your period is over. However, since the day is thirty hours long on Eden, that will be eleven to thirteen Zuni days, subject, of course, to individual variation. You know your own cycles better than I do, and living in the open air will tend to increase the variables, so your behavior will be governed by your own judgement."
During the silence that followed this pronouncement, I thought, rather sourly, that judgement had not recently been much help. I had sincerely hoped that with the conclusion of the restorations to full manhood and womanhood, we would resume our normal work and pastimes completely, but I was rather too sanguine. Not that there was anything overtly different immediately, or that my friends altered their behavior drastically, but subtle inflections, glances, and casual touches began to occur. They were so slight I fancied I was imagining them, at first, but I should have known I am never wrong about such things. The alteration showed itself in such minor ways!
Fortunately, there is no real indication anyone is in a hurry actually to become pregnant. Even Carmen is now reconsidering, more realistically, the possible difficulties inherent in childbirth. The talk of the responsibilities of raising children has also become more serious.
"Cuddling a tiny baby is so nice!" said Cinnamon dreamily. "But trying to soothe a screaming toddler—I never felt that was any fun at all."
Sometimes the expression of new feelings brought us all pleasure; Arielle, and Carmen too, have begun to dance for us more often. David had brought up, from his own trip to the Dragonfly, his tenor recorder and some excellent strings for a much better harp. As he played, the two women sometimes improvised their own dances, although never together. Arielle's lithe and graceful movements are nothing like the earthy rhythms of Carmen's flying feet, but both are exciting to watch. They create a tension in us, the audience, that is both pleasant and unsettling. I noticed the growing electricity first a week or so ago; the dancers had stopped, but David's lilting music continued, and suddenly I heard Richard's voice very soft beside me.
"Would you care for a stroll in the moonlight, ma'am?"
I was quite startled, but managed to smile as I refused.
At the same time, conversely, our fireside evenings are more relaxed. We have settled down to daily routines that are satisfying, as we work to explore and understand Eden's ecology, and physically very strenuous, as we carry out the labor of necessary daily chores. Without any necessity for arbitrary assignments, we seem to have developed a division of responsibilities that is both fulfilling and busy. For a time I feared that the change in our sexual capabilities might make for jealousies or dissension, but so far, at any rate, that
has not occurred. A rather spicy hint of flirtation has quietly crept into some behavior, but it is only a hint. There is private speculation, I'm sure, because there are four men to six women; it's rather amusing to listen to the calm academic discussion of gene pools and hybridization concerning the gardens we have begun!
And the men, especially, are transparently posturing when there is anyone to watch. When I arrive at the edge of camp with a load of either firewood or fish, one or another is instantly at my side, gallantly taking the burden from my hands! David and Richard vie with each other in their fearless climbs, and John and Nels revel in hauling massive nets ashore, although frequently most of the catch must be released, because it is more than we can consume!
Cinnamon's shyness so far disappeared that she clings openly to Nels's arm, while Shirley's former forthrightness with male and female alike has changed into a coy helplessness that make me, personally, want to throw something at her. The men, responding to all the melting glances and soft touches, are now showing off like stags in the rutting season—I suppose we can only be thankful they have too much sense to do physical battle!
It is particularly irritating to watch David, whose long friendship with Arielle has obviously turned into something much more intimate, keep the girl very much under his wing, while still casting a roving eye at the rest of us! And Nels, with all his tenderness towards his adoring assistant, still is eager to lift Jinjur, or Carmen, when their short stature makes this desirable—and both lifter and liftee prolong the contact with evident pleasure! John and Richard are, frankly, strutting—and all the conversations that used to flow so factually and easily are now brimming with innuendo:
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