The Mile Long Spaceship (6 page)

Under his hand the man strapped to the couch seemed to be straining against the bands of webbing. He felt hot, definitely now, and dry. Royle put out his other hand, by then cold to the touch, and Perez's forehead seemed to be burning. His light shone briefly on the temperature gauge. 102. Startled he realized how cold he had become. So cold he was shivering and the heat from Perez was like a welcome furnace. Had it been enough yet? He wished he had one of the cold lights available for the hotter worlds where additional heat was not to be tolerated. He risked a light another time. 103. He announced it to the others and fell silent again.

"Royle! I think this farce has gone on long enough!" Royle envisaged the speaker—the government man traveling with his wife on an expense account. "Windlass," he said, "I've reconsidered your proposal. I'm behind you all the way."

"You hear that, folks!" Windlass yelled. "Does this make any sense to you? Instead of trying to keep us alive and well, the captain is helping the sickness by freezing us himself! I say we grab him and those stooges of his right now and take over this ship! Among us we can bring her back to a safe place where doctors and researchers can take care of all of us."

Royle smiled in the darkness and to his right he heard DeBarge murmur something to Rawlins. He sensed their amusement and hiding it in his own voice he suggested, "Mr. Windlass, I advise you to keep your belt fastened. Have you ever grabbed anyone in free fall? Have you ever experienced it?"

Windlass screamed furiously at him, "Damn you, Royle! Think you can bully me like this!" There was the sound of a strap hitting one of the plastic tables as he flung off the belt of his chair and almost instantly there was the louder sound of Windlass thudding against the ceiling. Royle closed his eyes and visualized the image of the man tumbling endlessly, totally disoriented in the blackness, bouncing from wall to ceiling to floor. Windlass was yelling impotently now, his voice muffled by terror as he fell first up and then down.

Royle said clearly, his words slow and deliberate, "Grab the first thing you can get your hands on, Windlass. And keep holding on to it."

He waited for Windlass to find support before he announced, "It's time to take Perez for his tour. Please be patient. I know you are suffering, but it won't be long. Rawlins, you stay here, and keep an eye on them. Not that I think any of them will try anything after what happened to Windlass," he added caustically.

DeBarge floated effortlessly to his feet by Royle's side and together they guided the couch bearing Perez down the corridor, feeling their way along surely with a swimming motion.

Royle felt his tiredness combine with the now numbing cold as they approached the air lock two hours later. "What is it now, Debby?"

"Still 101."

"Right. Either there weren't enough to affect it much or he's fighting off the stuff I gave him. I don't know. Let's go in to Custens."

Later they stood looking out the screen in the engine room. Royle, Giroden, Kara, Windlass, all of them. They watched the speck disappear among the various hued stars and only after it had gone entirely did Royle turn the switch to off.

"It's going to take a year," he said, and there was subdued excitement in his voice at the thought of it. A year! Possibly more! "I'll assign temporary duties for now and we'll find the best person for the job later. Kara, you will head up the infirmary. Giroden, go with DeBarge and follow his instructions. Rawlins, take Windlass..." His eyes slid past Windlass and narrowed. "Custens! I told you to stay in sick bay!"

"Yes sir," Custens said and placed a tray beside his captain. "Your lunch, sir."

Custens gave DeBarge a pointed look and grinned as he and Rawlins herded the docile passengers from the engine room leaving the captain and his man alone with the gleaming machinery. Custens was manipulating the controls of the charts' strips, showing sector after sector of the unexplored regions of the galaxy as DeBarge pulled the door closed. Royle was starting to eat absently, his eyes, bright with anticipation, fastened on the changing scenes of the unknown.

"I am
sorry, Miss," the nurse said, "But the doctor sees patients only by appointment. I explained that when you called."

"You said be couldn't take me for three weeks," Jenny said. "I can't wait three weeks. This is an emergency."

There was disapproval in the eyes of the haughty nurse as she examined Jenny with a woman's unabashed appraisal. Jenny knew her hair was too long for this year's style, and her too-long stand-away coat might have passed several years ago, but was now hopelessly outdated. Also her face was hot and red from wind burn. She met the nurse's eyes with impervious pride. The nurse's eyes flicked away first.

"If you'll leave your name and number," she suggested, "I'll try to work you in sooner. Today is out of the question; it's past hours now."

Jenny sniffed. "I aim to see the doctor now," she stated calmly.

The intercom buzzed and when the nurse depressed a button to answer it, Jenny darted past her to the door beyond her desk. "Doctor Lindquist," Jenny shouted at the startled man seated behind a desk. "You have to stay ten more minutes! I have to see you!" At her first movement the nurse had risen to follow her, and now she was advancing ominously. The doctor rose, signalled the nurse to halt, and walked around his desk. Jenny ran forward to clutch at his arm.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I tried to stop her," the nurse said.

Jenny clung to him. "I called first. Honest I did, but she put me off for three weeks, and I can't wait. Please..."

"Young lady, I have an appointment in one hour..." He started to disengage her hand. "If you can be here at eleven in the morning..."

Jenny glanced at the nurse, she drew herself to her tiptoes and whispered, "Doctor, I have wings!"

The doctor became immobile; even his breathing seemingly stopped for a second while his eyes searched her face. Before she knew what he was doing he put one hand on her back and ran it up and down. It all happened in less time than it took for the nurse to cross the room and take Jenny's arm.

"Never mind, never mind," the doctor said hastily. He half pushed the nurse out of his office, closing the door behind her. He turned to Jenny and reached for her coat, but she quickly backed away.

"Send the nurse home," she said. She backed toward the desk, prepared to dart through the other door into the hallway if he did not comply with her demands.

Dr. Lindquist hesitated only a moment and then walked carefully to the other side of the desk, keeping his eyes on her all the time. He pushed the intercom button and spoke into it. "It's all right, Rose. Go on home now." Without waiting for an answer he leaned over the desk and said, "Now, please take off the coat."

Jenny removed the coat and he couldn't repress his sigh of disappointment. She was wearing a cotton dress, fitted in the front, but fully draped in the back. Jenny watched his face closely; he looked strained, as if being forced to fight a tremendous battle. She fumbled with her belt buckle, lowering her eyes as she did so. "I—I have trouble with clothes," she mumbled. "I have to make them, and it's hard to find underthings..."

Impatiently he snorted and started to approach her. She backed away. "I am a medical doctor," he said deliberately, coming to a stop.

Slowly Jenny took off the belt and unbuttoned the dress, finally stepping out of it altogether. There was a wide rubber band just under her arm pits and another at her waist. She removed them. Then she opened her wings,

"Ah!" The doctor gasped once and became silent. There was an awed, unbelieving look on his face that rapidly gave way to delight. He walked around her slowly as she stretched first one wing and then the other. They were six feet long and after being confined, they always felt sore and tired. After stretching out the kinks she allowed them to settle and they stood out softly flared behind her.

"Ah," the doctor exclaimed again. "I didn't believe it. Even feeling them under the coat, I didn't believe it. Beautiful! Beautiful! Golden, tawny, like your hair. So soft..." She shuddered violently when she felt his hand.

"Are you hurt?" the doctor asked quickly, anxiously. "Have you injured them?"

She shook her head, feeling herself flushing under his scrutiny. "It's not that," she said in confusion,

"Oh," he said. Then, "Oh! Of course, a sheet. Here let me..."

Primly she took it from him and passed it under the wings, bringing the ends together in front. "A pin?" she asked. He supplied it.

"Here, sit down," he said, placing a straight chair by the desk. Jenny looked up quickly, but he was behind her again looking at the wings. Tentatively he reached out his hand, then looked at her. "May I?" She nodded and braced herself for the shock of his hands.

"What is your name?" he asked abruptly. "How have you kept it secret? Who sent you to me?" He passed his hand over his face and pulled a second chair opposite her. He straddled the chair with his arms crossed over the back, his chin resting on his arms.

Jenny felt more comfortable now, clothed in the sheet, with him facing her. She studied the doctor before answering. He was younger than she had expected. He was thick and solid looking with a certain stiffness in his posture, probably due to suppressed excitement, but even in his excitement he had realized a straight chair would be the only kind she could really sit in. She had seen excitement before when she opened her wings, but usually it overlay greed, or fear. With him there was no sign of either. She said, "Doctor, I really don't want to take up your time. You said you had an appointment."

"Oh damn the appointment!" Impatiently he pulled the phone to him and dialed a number, keeping his eyes on her all the while. He spoke into it crisply in a manner permitting no argument, and then broke the connection and lay the phone down by the receiver. "So much for my appointment," he said.

"But this really won't take long," Jenny started again. "I just want some advice. I'm going to be married.... I think..."

He jumped up knocking over his chair which he quickly caught. "Oh no!" he exclaimed. "I'll lock the door and bar the window..." She felt a sickening rise of fear and knew it was reflected in her face. He sat down again and said soberly, "I'm sorry. That was inexcusable. Someone did that to you, didn't he?"

She nodded.

"What can I call you?"

"Jenny. Jenny Alton."

"Very well, Jenny. I promise you I won't try to detain you. Now will you please stay and talk a bit before we get to the reason for this call?"

"I'd like to talk," she said softly and her wings settled once more. She hadn't been aware until then that they had opened, poised, as alert as a bird, ready to spring into the air and fly away. "I've never been able to talk to anyone except Pap about... about it."

"Fine," Lindquist murmured. "I won't interrupt. Just start anywhere."

"I never knew I was different until I started school," she said after a moment's hesitation. "My father was killed in the war, and Mother left us, Pap and me, when I was two. I can't really remember her. Pap is my grandfather. He wouldn't let Mother and the doctor operate on my... on me when I was first born, and after she left he took care of me. He used to stand on the ground watching me and he'd yell, 'Fly, Jenny! Fly girl! Fly!' He was really proud of my wings. Every night he'd kiss me goodnight and say, 'Goodnight my Jenny with wings!'" She looked at the doctor shyly and his eyes were bright and burning with excitement and understanding. "I was so happy," she said and he nodded. "Then I started school." She remembered clearly the second or third day at play period. She said, "I couldn't understand why they were still playing their silly games instead of flying. I thought I couldn't stand to jump rope any more, so I took off my dress and began to fly." She glanced at the doctor in time to catch the slight twitching of his lips. She nodded. "It started an uproar all right." She grinned, remembering it.

"What did you do?" the doctor asked gravely.

"I flew home, naturally," she answered simply. "We moved that day."

She met his eyes and together they laughed. "I try not to find it funny," she said presently. "It shouldn't have been funny, but the look on their faces, and the way they screamed..."

"But did you think it was funny then? Weren't you frightened or lonely?"

"You don't understand," she said and stretched out both wings and looked at them. "When you fly you don't need anyone else, and then I had Pap and we traveled a lot, of course, but he didn't mind, and neither did I. We always stayed in the south so I wouldn't get too cold. In one day I could travel hundreds of miles, and I could soar or loop or dive, or just glide with the trade winds. I didn't understand the other girls and they didn't understand me. I couldn't do a lot of the things they did, slumber parties, swimming, trying on each other's clothes, but that didn't matter. I could fly!"

"But people did find out once in awhile, didn't they?" he prodded gently.

She looked at him sharply. How could he know that?

"It was inevitable that every boy who put his arm around you was in for a surprise," he said. "And also that boys would want to put their arms about you."

"I found out about boys," she admitted ruefully. "I was twelve, almost thirteen, and I went to my first boy-girl party." Sighing she remembered the party. "Someone turned out the lights and there was this little boy, Johnny Roland. I'll never forget him. He was fourteen. He sat down next to me and pretty soon his hands began exploring. I was scared, but..." she stopped short, feeling her face grow hot. "Anyway," she continued hurriedly, "he got around to the wings and quit dead. I wiggled one wing a little and he let out a yell that brought the parents of the girl up from the porch. After that the lights stayed on and we played ping pong. Every once in awhile I looked at him and his eyes were big and scared." Jenny stopped and stared at the floor.

The doctor rose and switched on a light on the far side of the office. He busied himself about a cabinet saying, "I could use some coffee about now. I've been thinking while you talked, you've been lucky. Most people with any sort of difference are generally shunned and made to feel like pariahs. Apparently you managed to have a fairly normal childhood and adolescence."