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than any other men, and we gave . . . even on the deathbed of our civiliza-tion, we gave you the stars."
His voice rose until it roared. "And we're not dead yet! Do you think this miserable Protectorate is a
society? It isn't! It's not even a decent barbarism. It's a glorified garrison. It's one worshipping thestatus
quo and afraid to look futureward. I went to space because my people once went to sea. I gave my sons
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to space, and you'll give yours to space, because that's where the next civilization will be! And you'll learn
the history and the language of our people your people you'll learn what itmeans to be one of us!"
His words rang away into emptiness. For a while only the wind and a few tiny flames had voice. Down
on the strand, the sea worried the island like a terrier with a rat.
Tamara said finally: "I already know what it means. It cost me David, but I know."
He faced her again, lowered his head and stared as if at an enemy.
"You murdered him," she said, not loudly. "You sent him to a dead sun to die. Because you "
"You're overwrought," he broke in with tight-held anger. "I urged him to try just one space expedition.
And this one was important. It could have meant a deal to science. He would have been proud
afterward, whatever he did for a career, to say, I was on theCross.'"
"So he should die for his pride?" she said. "It's as senseless a reason as the real one. But I'll tell you why
you really made him go . . . and if you deny you forced him, I'll say you lie! You couldn't stand the idea
that one child of yours had broken away was not going to be wrenched into your image had
penetrated this obscene farce of space exploration, covering distance for its own sake, as if there were
some virtue in a large number of kilometers. David was going to live as nature meant him to live, on a
living soil, with untanked air to breathe and with mountains to walk on instead of a spinning coffin . . . and
his children would too . . . we would have been happy! And that was what you couldn't stand to have
happen!"
Magnus grinned without humor. "There's a lot of meaning-less noise for a symbolics professor's daughter
to make," he said. "To begin at the end, what proof have you we were meant to be happy?"
"What proof have you we were meant to jump across light-years?" she spat. "It's another way of running
from yourself no more. It's not even a practical thing. If the ships only looked for planets to colonize, I
could understand. But . . . theCross herself was aimed for three giants! She was diverted to a black
clinker! And now David is dead . . . for what? Scientific curi-osity? You're not a research scientist,
neither was he, and you know it. Wealth? He wasn't being paid more than he could earn on Earth.
Glory? Few enough people on Earth care about exploration; not many more on Rama; he, not at all.
Adven-ture? You can have more adventure in an hour's walk through a forest than in a year on a
spaceship. I say you murdered your son because you saw him becoming sane!"
"Now that's enough," growled Magnus. He took a step to-ward her. "I've heard enough out of you. In
my own house. And I never did hold with this new-fangled notion of letting a woman yap "
"Stand back!" she yelled. "I'm notyour wife!"
He halted. The lines in his face grew suddenly blurred. He raised his artificial hand as if against a blow.
"You're my son's wife," he said, quite gently. "You're a Ryer-son too . . . now."
"Not if this is what it means." She had found the resolution she sought. She went to the wall and took her
cloak off its peg. "You'll lend me your aircar for a hop to Stornoway, I trust. I will send it back on
auto-pilot and get transport for myself from there."
"But where are you going?" His voice was like a hurt child's.
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"I don't know," she snapped. "To some place with a bearable climate. David's salary is payable to me till
he's declared dead, and then there will be a pension. When I've waited long enough to be sure he won't
come back, I'm going to Rama."
"But, lass . . . propriety "
"Propriety be damned. I'd rather have David's child, alive." She slipped her boots back on, took a
flashlight from the cupboard, and went out the door. As she opened it, the wind came straight in and hit
Magnus across the face.
"In the land of Chinchanchou,
Where the winds blow tender
From a sea like purple wine
Foaming to defend her,
Lives a princess beautiful
(May the gods amend her!) Little known for virtue, but
Of most female gender."
AS he came around the gyro housing and pulled himself forward to the observation deck, David Ryerson
heard the guitar skitter through half a dozen chords and Maclaren's voice come bouncing in its wake. He
sighed, pushed the lank yellow hair back out of his eyes, and braced himself.
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