XVIII.
Guy didn't answer. And Charalas smiled. "I've said my piece," he told Maynard. "Take it as from an old, old, bothersome man who may be bitter because of his age."
"Charalas, you are Ertene's foremost neuro-surgeon, and also one of the most popular philosophers. I'll accept your arguments. But I am still convinced that Ertene will suffer if any alliance is formed between Terra and Ertene."
"A little suffering might wake us from our lethargy, but it is also human nature to let the other guy suffer. We'll go on and on until we get caught. Some day," promised Charalas, "Ertene will suffer. It's just a matter of time before we get caught."
"Not if I can help it," said Maynard stoutly.
The door opened to admit Thomakein. He bore a sheaf of papers. He looked surprised at Charalas and then greeted the neuro-surgeon. "Been here long?"
"Couple of hours," answered Charalas. "Elanane and I have been discussing the state of Ertene."
Thomakein's forehead wrinkled, and he cast a worried look at Guy, who smiled cheerfully. "Have you come to a conclusion?" he asked with forced cheer.
"We've decided that Ertene may be in for trouble some day," said Charalas. "And also that we'll forestall it as best we can."
"That's what I came for," said Thomakein. "We're setting up vortex projectors on strategic places. We need your signature, Elanane, on the orders which procure the land."
"Upon what basis?"
"Purchase, of course."
"I'll sign—and pray that they are never used."
"So will we all," smiled Thomakein. "But to need them and not have them would be terrible."
Guy signed the papers, and Thomakein left with Charalas. Maynard smiled inwardly as they left. Thomakein's anxiety was so obvious; he wanted to question Charalas to see what, if anything, was said that might lead to trouble. He shrugged as the phone rang once and a girlish voice told him that she was home and could she come up to see him. The voice clicked a chord in Guy's mind, and he answered: "Come on up, Leilanane."
He wondered whether it was customary for the lanee to kiss his sister on every possible occasion; his thought-beam instrument gave him enough information to make his heart beat faster.
The days passed swiftly for Guy Maynard. Had he been the real Elanane, they would have passed slowly, for nothing of any real interest transpired. It was a humdrum life, he found. The affairs of state were few and far between, and more and more Guy came to believe that Ertene's system was as good or better than the turmoil that prevailed on Terra. The only activity that went on was the construction of the vortex machines, and that was the job of a few, specially-trained technicians. Guy found his time passing swiftly because of the constant necessity of keeping his guard up.
The thought-beam instrument kept him out of trouble, and gradually he completed it, making the special parts in a tiny workshop that the real Elanane had furnished. He thanked the dead lanee for having that kind of a hobby, and used it to the best advantage.
Leilanane helped. The affairs of state were the small part of being lanee, but the social functions were nightly. And since Lanee Elanane had no mate, nor cared to speak with intent, he appeared at the state functions with his sister. He was gently criticized for this; not as lanee, but for the fact that he prevented his sister from the company of young men of her own set. In shorter, blunter words, Guy was "spoiling her chances!"
But Leilanane did not seem to care. She was happy. Guy pondered this, and wondered whether she would have been as happy with her real brother, or whether the facts, though unknown to her mind, were not unknown to the chemistry that attracted men and women mutually.
Wondering, Guy opened the gain of his instrument one evening and looked into her mind. He wanted to know, truly, whether she preferred him, or whether her preference was but a desire to serve him. To Guy's way of thinking, there was a difference in love between love of the man and love of doing things for him.
So Guy looked and retreated blushing. For in Leilanane's mind there was confusion and frustration; she was bitter against the laws that forbade mating between blood relatives. That one experience told Guy how huge a weapon the thought-beam instrument really was, and he swore never to do that again.
It also gave him confusion. He was in no position to ponder the unanswerable question he put to himself. It evolved into a merry-go-round that left him dizzy. In telling Leilanane the truth, he could establish a right to openly court her. But it would at once remove any possibility of remaining close to her. On the other hand not telling her kept them together—with the most formidable barrier between them.
It gave Maynard sleepless nights, and in order to keep from thinking himself into a bottomless pit, Guy started to build a thought-beam instrument of monster proportions. What he hoped to do with the instrument he did not know, but at one time he considered using it to condition Ertene into believing that it would be proper to mate him with his sister. When he analyzed the latter consideration, he scorned himself for thinking of it. He'd be throwing Ertene to the dogs for his own personal desire for a woman. And then he knew that no matter how he felt, he could not use the instrument in that manner.
It was excellent, he found, for gaining information without the giver's knowledge. But trying to coerce the individual in the slightest thing was impossible without letting the one know that mental tricks were being played.
He was forced to do some fast talking on the day he found that out, and only managed to talk himself out of trouble by calling to mind and attention the fact that he had known the man for many kilodays.
If the small one were that ticklish a proposition, the larger one would be more brutal in its operation. Yet he continued to work on the thing as a means of keeping his mind and hands busy. So night after night he worked in the little workshop, and then as he grew drowsy at his bench, Guy would stand under the stars upon the spiderweb of a foot-bridge that connected the governmental offices with the governmental apartments. He would look Solward and wonder how and why such a mess had been made of his life, and whether happiness would always be out of grasp.
He counted on his fingers. He'd been kidnaped, and he'd spent a year on Ertene. That was one. There was a year or so developing the barrier-screen—that made two. There were five years of advancing from senior executive to marshal's rank, and that made seven. It was a year since his being discharged from the Terran Space Patrol, and that made eight years.
Eight long years since he hadn't had a care on his mind. And in spite of his successes, there was that constant gnawing knowledge that he was not true to himself or his fellows. Yet, his conscience was clear. The knowledge had not been bad for his morale; it was merely disconcerting to know that the things they gave him credit for were not his own.
Maynard did not consider for one moment that Ertene hadn't given him everything. It took inventive genius to fit the barrier to spacecraft, and the other developments were all Maynard's own. But he scorned them all and debased himself.
It was eight long, lonely years ago—
He mentally kicked himself. He wondered whether Joan Forbes would have made a difference in his life. She might have been the outlet to pent-up feelings that he needed so badly. Joan would have given him rest without asking suspicious questions. It might have been better—
But Joan was dead, and though Thomakein claimed that she would have been there anyway, it did little to cheer him up. Thomakein's reasoning did not include the possibility that Joan might have been making a home for him, or that even the tiniest mite of family would have immobilized her against following a planet invasion.
Joan Forbes, thought Maynard, might have been the answer—but at the present time she was another blind alley of thought. Might have been is the cry of the second-guesser; the Monday Morning Quarterback.
The sense of thermal balance that was high in Maynard warned him first. Then that sense that tells of another sentient being close by, its warning, and Guy turned to see a small figure beside him on the bridge.
"Elanane," she said.
"Don't say it," he warned softly. "I can watch the stars, too."
"They're so silent and quiet and big."
"And peaceful," agreed Guy.
"I've been lonesome," said Leilanane plaintively. It was with effort that Maynard resisted the impulse to put his hand on her shoulder.
"Are you now?" he asked softly.
She shook her head. "Elanane, I want to talk."
"Go right ahead," smiled Guy. "I like to hear you."
"No—this is important, and it is hard for me to begin.”
She nodded. "No ... Elanane, please don't take my shoulders like that ... it makes it more difficult."
Guy turned her around, pointed her head at the sky. "Up there, somewhere," he said quietly, "is the answer to everything. We'll find it some day. Now, Leilanane, tell me what you are worrying about."
"Thomakein asked me to marry him."
Guy's reason beat his reflex to the muscles in his forearms and prevented him from closing his hands tight on Leilanane's shoulders. Thomakein perceived the emotional tangle that was becoming more and more imminent, and by marrying Leilanane he would eliminate it. Guy knew that Thomakein thought everything of Leilanane—possibly loved the girl in a passive manner. Guy smiled briefly, obviously Thomakein could have had little opportunity to make real love to her, but a man of Thomakein's personality could carry off such a proposal by his own sheer persuasiveness. Also, Thomakein wanted power himself. Marrying the lanee's sister would put him in the eyes of the public, and doing it with the approval of the lanee himself would give him the official recognition that he needed to become lanee after Elanane. Well, Guy would resign as soon as Thomakein wanted him to, that was reasonable and desirable. It also solved the problem that bothered both Guy and Leilanane.
"Why not?" he asked softly.
"I don't know. Something—keeps me from it."
"Me?" asked Guy in a voice that was almost a whisper.
Leilanane turned and buried her face in Guy's shoulder. "Am I bad?" she cried. "Is it so terrible to love my brother?"
"It is unfortunate, Leil," said Guy softly. "It cannot be. I, too, am torn. We must face this thing as it is. Brothers and sisters normally do not care for one another. Perhaps our being apart so much has removed the usual reason. Yes, Leil, I love you too. Do you love Thomakein at all?"
"Thomakein attracts me," admitted Leilanane. "There is something dynamic in him; dynamic and powerful and all-sweeping. I could learn to love him truly."
"Then do so. Leil, no matter what we do, you and I, if we permit this outlandish thing to go on, it will mean unhappiness for both of us."
"No. Couldn't we go ... to Sol ... and live there?"
Guy shook his head. "You'd learn to hate me, Leil. In our hearts we'd always know that what we were doing was dead wrong."
Leilanane nodded pitifully. "There are times, though," she said earnestly, "when you do not seem like my brother."
"Forget it," said Guy. "There is nothing more certain in the world." Guy's sense of humor told him that he was right, all things considered.
"I suppose I will forget it soon enough. What will you do?"
"What I should have done years ago—go out and find me a mate."
"I'll hate her."
Guy laughed, and if it sounded forced, Leilanane did not notice. He turned her around to face him and shook her gently. "You're a silly little lovely," he told her. "Nothing is less like the intelligent girl I know you are. It's been my fault all along. Now you'll marry Thomakein and you'll love it."
"Think so?"
"Do you think of him at all?"
Leilanane thought for a moment. "I think so," she said slowly. "Perhaps I might learn to love him—I've never had much chance."
"Again my fault. Come on, I think he's up. We'll settle this right now."
They found Thomakein reading. Guy opened abruptly with: "Thomakein, Leil says you have been talking deep."
Thomakein smiled solemnly. "I have—and what's your answer?"
"There can be one answer. When?"
"As soon as possible."
Guy searched the other man's mind for any ulterior motive and found none. He feared to increase the sensitivity of his instrument because of the necessity of fiddling with the tuning and gain controls before their eyes. He nodded, smiled and gave Leilanane a little hug. "You're it," he said. "Now go away."
Leilanane left, and Guy sat quiet for a moment, thinking. Thomakein had solved his problem again. No matter how he felt, Guy knew that what had been growing was not to be. He asked: "Are you on the level?"
"I am. I've loved her a long time."
"Good. I think rather well of my sister."
"I know."
"Look, Tom, you're not doing this just to break this up?"
"Not entirely. Forgive me if I ramble a moment, but I want you to understand. You are never out of danger, Guy. You never will be as long as you are lanee. Once you retire, you can accept the alternative of utter retirement, or you may be more inclined to a less public life. People will revere you always, but your importance will wane, and your words will be less quoted and less watched until you are safe from chance slips of the tongue.
"Now I want to be lanee—permit me that. As I have said, I've been too far from Ertene too long. People know me, but not well enough. You sponsor this marriage, and it will be practically an endorsement from you. Then in a kiloday you may announce your retirement and I'll announce my candidacy. The family tie-up will run me in on a wave of popularity. As for Leilanane, I'll be as good and as loving a husband as I can. I know that she'll be a good wife."
"I haven't heard the word 'love' used yet."
Thomakein smiled wryly. "Honest, Guy, it always struck me slightly silly to hear two grown, mature, intelligent, strong, capable men discussing love. Forgive me. I feel that some things should be kept between the man and the woman alone. I do love Leilanane, that I promise."
"O.K.," laughed Guy. "Go ahead and commit matrimony. But look, Tom, once you get settled and running, see if you can find a friend for me."
Forty days later, Guy led Leilanane down the long aisle with a golden cord. The choral voice of the great organ rolled sonorously, exultantly, and then faded to a musical whisper as the couple reached the altar bar. The ceremony started, and its origin was lost in antiquity but returned in symbol. Guy removed the golden halo from Leilanane's head, and burned it on the flame-blackened pedestal. Thomakein accepted the protection of the woman as Guy's protection was removed and destroyed by the all-consuming fire.
Guy returned up the long aisle alone where he stood to watch the final phases of the ceremony.
The bridal couple clasped hands, and then as the music rolled out again, they left the altar bar hand in hand. They stopped before Guy, who smiled and said: "Life, love, and happiness."
Then he shook his head. The official ceremony was over, and Guy grinned hugely. He pried them apart and took an arm of each, leaving the chapel with them. He handed them into their flier, and motioned them away with a jerking movement of his thumb. "Beat it," he said, "and don't return until you're better acquainted."
Guy returned to his offices and called for Charalas.