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"The CV drive," he bellowed at the first mention. "You are out of your mind,
Helva! Ill just keep those industrials around for you, my dear." He sounded
very smug.
"The CV's that hazardous?"
"Oh, my dear Helva, they cannot have been honest with you. Didn't you hear
what happened to the test ship?"
"Nine years out, I'm told, but you know perfectly well that a shell-person is
far better equipped to handle delicate circuitry than any mobile ..."
"Balls," Broley interrupted her. "I never get time for a decent chat but
something has to go wrong."
She was grateful to whatever emergency had interrupted them. A little of
Broley's cynicism went a long way. When she'd been in service as long as he,
would she be as misogynistic and sour? Or as impassive as Silvia, living
through years of quiet desperation on the off-chance that there might be a
moment of beauty, of love, tomorrow?
Where was Niall? He must have calmed down enough to think straight by now.
Hours had passed since he left. He must have realized that theirs could be a
brilliant partnership, rich and full! He was wasted as a supervisor. Why,
they'd pay off the CV debt in contract time, if not sooner, with both of them
working to that end. Then she wouldn't worry about being independent. No one
could harm her with Niall as brawn. If Niall would be her brawn ...
She glanced outside hopefully, surprised that the quick equatorial darkness
had closed down on Regulus Base. Lights were few in the Tower, shining only at
duty stations and odd offices. She remembered she'd turned on only the lift
audios when she'd landed. Now, as she turned on others, she heard muted metal
sounds from the distant maintenance shops and the measured tread of the
ceremonial sentry, parading the front of the Tower.
Another of the Service's archaic whimsies, Helva thought, knowing that highly
specialized sensors around the Base could detect the mere passage of a night
insect, identify and destroy it if noxious before the human guardian could
react to a more visible or audible invasion. But the sentry's about-face
clatter was comforting. She did not feel so alone. Some old traditions did
have a special place for which there was no modern substitute. Like ... Damn
Broley! Why had he mentioned Jennan?
Broley could locate Niall for her. But he'd want to know the details.
And he was unlikely to be sympathetic to her need. According to Broley,
shell-people ought to be autonomous as well as self-sufficient.
She hastily answered the strident call signal.
"Well, Parollan may not have conned you into all he planned, but he's
certainly celebrating something!" Broley was at his churlish best. "And he
started off by tangling up 15 air-cushion vehicles, and three mass
transporters and that sheared off two transmitter masts. Why he wasn't killed
I don't know, but there wasn't a scratch on him or the three females with him.
Fortunately, no one was more than shaken in the other cars, but he's been
fined a stiff 1000 credits for such irresponsible behavior. And he had the
nerve to laugh. If he weren't a Service Supervisor with plenty of pull,
he'd've been sent down to cool off for a few months. And it's all your fault.
I'll be glad to see you go. Oh, fardles! He's at the Vanishing Point. And now
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I have to drag on emergency monitors to ensure order there! If he thinks he
can get away with two civil misdemeanors in one night, he's vastly mistaken. I
will not have my city disrupted by Parollan's egregious escapades."
Having vented his spleen, he broke the connection.
Parollan was trying to kill himself? She could understand the Vanishing
Point visit, the house was notorious for the variety and ingenuity of its
entertainments. Most planets had several such establishments, particularly in
spaceport cities, and most brawns were regular customers.
It was too unsettling to contemplate his activities there. She devoutly wished
that shell-people were allowed the surcease of sleep. They ought to have some
way to dispense with mental activity, some refuge from unbearable thoughts.
Disobediently her mind ranged back to the Vanishing Point House and its
reputation.
"Two households, alike in dignity ... " she began in a resolute voice that
echoed through the empty cabins. She wondered: would the Solar
Prane/Corviki understand her gratitude for this pastime?
A channel opened and it was no surprise to hear Broley's sharp voice.
But he sounded puzzled, not irritated.
"Did you get Niall Parollan discharged for cornering you into that extension?"
"No, I did not."
"Just asking. I simply can't imagine why he's acting the way he is. It just
isn't like the Parollan I know."
"What's he doing?" The question was out before Helva could reflect.
"He was doing his usual. Now he seems to have lost what little sense all that
strong drink left him. In fact the monitors were all set to close in, when he
calls the House jeweler, buys all the girls a bauble, 'to remember him by,' he
says. And he goes home. Alone, what's more. And you'll never guess what he's
doing now."
"Not unless you tell me."
"He's got an effects buyer in and he is selling off his furnishings, his
paintings, his artifacts, his tapes. He spent a fortune on that collection and
he won't get half of it back. He's sold his aircar. And he's selling his
wardrobe."
Helva tried to quench the sudden hope this news generated. A symbolic
rejection of a closed part of his life? Why? Niall knew that brawns kept a
home in some port of call. Why should he sell off? Not unless ... She refused
to consider the alternative.
"You would have heard," Broley was saying, "if he and Railly had had another
one of their fights?"
"I haven't heard a word from Cencom all night."
"You'll remember Broley, won't you, if you do?"
"Yes, Broley, I'll remember you."
Could the girls and the drinking and the V-P House, the farewell jewels, all
be part of a bachelor night out?
Caesar and Cleopatra occupied her until dawn, until the technicians and
computermen poured back into the Base complex to divert her.
An urgent beep from Cencom and then Railly was on the line, bellowing.
"What'n'ell does Parollan mean, handing in a resignation? What're you up to
now, Helva? Let me speak to him. Now!"
"He's not aboard."
"Not aboard? Where is he?"
"I don't know."
"And I suppose you also don't know that Parollan left a resignation on my desk
to foul up my morning? That he cited Paragraph 5, subarticle D? I'll say he's
suffering from mental aberration. He's out of his mind. If you two think you
can put something else over on the Service after that performance yesterday
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..." Railly's angry ranting trailed off. "All right, Helva," he began again in
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