‘Told you she was quick on the uptake,” Lacy gloated. “Didn’t fox her for a second!”
“But say—listen—what’s this all about, anyway?” Kinnison demanded.
“Never mind, you’ll learn soon enough,” from Lacy, and: “Kinnison, you are very urgently invited to attend a meeting of the Galactic Council tomorrow afternoon,” from Haynes.
“Huh? What’s up now?” Kinnison protested. His arm tightened about the girl’s supple waist and she snuggled closer, a trace of foreboding beginning to dim the eagerness in her eyes.
“Promotion. We want to make you something—galactic coordinator, director, something like that—the job hasn’t been named yet. In plain language, the Big Shot of the Second Galaxy, formerly known as Landmark’s Nebula.”
“But listen, chief ! I couldn’t handle such a job as that— I simply haven’t got the jets!”
“You always yelp about a dynage deficiency whenever a new job is mentioned, but you deliver the goods. Who else could we wish it onto?”
“Worsel,” Kinnison declared with hesitation. “He’s . . .”
“Balloon-juice!” snorted the older man.
“Well, then . . . ah . . . er . . .” he stopped. Clarrissa opened her mouth, then shut it, ridiculously, without having uttered a word.
“Go ahead, MacDougall. You’re an interested party, you know.”
“No.” She shook her spectacular head. “I’m not saying a word nor thinking a thought to sway his decision one way or the other. Besides, he’d have to flit around then as much as now.”
“Some travel involved, of course,” Haynes admitted. “All over that galaxy, some in this one, and back and forth between the two. However, the Dauntless—or something newer, bigger, and faster—will be his private yacht, and I don’t see why it is either necessary or desirable that his flits be solo.”
“Say, I never thought of that!” Kinnison blurted; and as thoughts began to race through his mind of what he could do, with Chris beside him all the time, to straighten out the mess in the Second Galaxy: “Oh, Kirn!” Clarrissa squealed in ecstasy, squeezing his arm even tighter against her side.
“Hooked!” Lacy chortled in triumph.
“But I’d have to retire!” That thought was the only thorn in Kinnison’s whole wreath of roses. “I wouldn’t like that.”
“Certainly you wouldn’t,” Haynes agreed. “But remember that all such assignments are conditional, subject to approval, and with a very definite cancellation agreement in case of what the Lensman regards as an emergency. If a Gray Lensman had to give up his right to serve the Patrol in any way he considered himself most able, they’d have to shoot us all before they could make executives out of us. And finally, I don’t see how the job we’re talking about can be figured as any sort of a retirement. You’ll be as active as you are now—yes, more so, unless I miss my guess.”
“QX. I’ll be there—I’ll try it,” Kinnison promised.
“Now for some more news,” Lacy announced. “Haynes didn’t tell you, but he has been made president of the Galactic Council. You are his first appointment. I hate to say anything good about the old scoundrel, but he has one outstanding ability. He doesn’t know much or do much himself, but he certainly can pick the men who have to do the work for him!”
“There’s something vastly more important than that,” Haynes steered the acclaim away from himself.
“Just a minute,” Kinnison interposed. “I haven’t got this all straight yet. What was the crack about active nurses awhile ago?”
“Why, Doctor Lacy was just intimating that I had resigned, goose,” Clarrissa chuckled. “I didn’t know a thing about it myself, but I imagine it must have been just before this conference started. Am I right, doctor?” she asked innocently.
“Or tomorrow, or even yesterday—any convenient time will do,” Lacy blandly assented.
“You see, young man, MacDougall has been a mighty busy girl, and wedding preparations take time, too. Therefore we have very reluctantly accepted her resignation.”
“Especially preparations take time when it’s going to be such a wedding as the Patrol is going to throw,” Haynes commented. “That was what I was starting to talk about when I was so rudely interrupted.”
“Nix! Not in seven thousand years!” Kinnison exploded. “Cancel that, right now—I won’t stand for it—I’ll not. . .”
“Cancel nothing. Baffle your jets, Kim,” the admiral said, firmly. “Bridegrooms are to be seen—just barely visible— but that’s all. No voice. Weddings are where the girls really strut their stuff. How about it, you gorgeous young menace to Civilization?”
“I’ll say so!” she exclaimed in high animation. “I’d just love it, admiral . . .” She broke off, aghast Her face fell. “No, I’ll take that back. Kirn’s right. Thanks a million, just the same, but. . .”
“But nothing!” Haynes broke in. “I know what’s the matter. Don’t try to fox an old campaigner, and don’t be silly. I said the Patrol was throwing this wedding. All you have to do is participate in the action. Got any money, Kinnison? On you, I mean?”
“No,” in surprise. “What would I be doing with money?”
“Here’s ten thousand credits—Patrol funds. Take it and . . .”
“He will not!” the nurse stormed. “No! You can’t, admiral, really. Why, a bride has got to buy her own clothes!”
“She’s right, Haynes,” Lacy announced. The admiral stared at him in wrathful astonishment and even Clarrissa seemed disappointed at her easy victory. “But listen to this. As surgeon-marshal, et cetera, in recognition of the unselfish services, et cetera, unflinching bravery under fire, et cetera, performances beyond and above requirements or reasonable expectations, et cetera, et cetera; Sector Chief Nurse Clarrissa May MacDougall, upon the occasion of her separation from the Service, is hereby granted a bonus of ten thousand credits. That goes on die record as of hour twelve, today.
“Now, you red-headed young spit-fire, if you refuse to accept that bonus I’ll cancel your resignation and put you back to work. What do you say?”
“I say thanks, Doctor Lacy. Th . . . thanks a million . . . both of you . . . you’re two of the most wonderful men that ever lived, and I . . . I . . . I just love you!” The happy girl kissed them both, then turned to Kinnison.
“Let’s go and hike about ten miles, shall we, Kirn? I’ve got to do something or I’ll explode!”
And the tall Lensman—no longer unattached—and the radiant nurse swung down the hall.
Side by side; in step; heads up; laughing: a beginning symbolical indeed of the life they were to live together.