He paused for a moment again, beaming. “Finally,” he said, “we have much knowledge of scientific matters which your own scientists may not have discovered as yet. And, because our ship has traveled so far and observed so much, we have firsthand knowledge of many other stellar systems. All this we will put at your disposal. For a beginning, let me now display some of the astronomical records from our archives.”
And then ChinTekki-tho disappeared from the screen, and it began to show pictures—poor quality ones, unfortunately, because of the discrepancies between human and Hakh’hli broadcasting technology, but nevertheless pictures no Earthly astronomer had ever seen.
ChinTekki-tho’s voice described what they were seeing as the views unfolded. “This is the star you call Alpha Centauri from no more than one thousand radii away. These display the planetoids of the star Epsilon Eridani—as you see there are many of them, but all small and without significant atmospheres. Our colleague Oberon can tell you more of all these things. Now we are seeing the pictures of your own Sun and planets and the Earth itself as our ship approached.”
The astronomical pictures winked away and ChinTekki-tho reappeared. “This is only a beginning, my friends of Earth,” he said. “My dear student, Oberon, is a certified astronomical specialist.” In the studio Obie happily gazed around at the audience, waggling his head in confirmation. “He has with him a library of data in the memory stores of the lander and ten thousand times as much at his command on the big ship itself. He will supply you with as much astronomical data as you can wish. And our other experts also will instruct your specialists in their own areas; and all this we give you as our guest present.” He paused for a moment, beaming into the camera. “And now,” he said, “I will leave you for the moment. But we will speak again—many times—in this new age of shared knowledge and friendship that has opened up for us all.”
The image disappeared. Marguery sighed and uncrossed her legs. “You know,” she said conversationally, “it’s still hard to believe.”
“Believe it,” Sandy said smugly. “The Hakh’hli have all sorts of things they can give you—us, I mean,” he added quickly.
Hamilton Boyle was looking at him quizzically. “I’m sure of that,” he said. “I wonder what they’re going to want in return?”
When the broadcast was over the two Hakh’hli hurried back to the hotel room for their midday meal. “What about you?” Marguery asked Sandy. “Are you hungry? Would you like to have a drink first?”
He hesitated, not because he was in any doubt about what he wanted to do—he wanted to be alone with Marguery Darp, the sooner the better—but because he wasn’t sure of the best way to arrange it. “Do you mean a milk shake?” he ventured.
“I was thinking more of a different kind of drink,” she said, grinning, and took him to the rooftop cafe.
When Sandy discovered that a “different kind of drink” involved alcohol he was startled. “But alcohol’s a poison, isn’t it?”
“Well, I suppose it is,” Marguery agreed. “But it’s a special kind of a poison. It helps relax people, you know? And it’s supposed to help your appetite, too, to have a drink before a meal. Look. We’ll get you a spritzer—that’s just white wine and soda water—not very much wine, all right?”
The magic word for Sandy was “wine.” “Oh, yes,” he said enthusiastically. A glass of wine or two would be just about right to set the scene for his surprise, for he knew that in human affairs wine was inextricably linked with romance. But when the glass came and he tasted it, he looked up at Marguery in pained surprise. “It tastes spoiled,” he said.
“It isn’t spoiled. It’s fermented. That’s how wine is made,” she told him.
“Aren’t fermented and spoiled the same thing?” He didn’t press the point. He was determined to do all the things that human males did in pursuit of human females. The second sip tasted as bad as the first, but then he began to become aware that a sort of inner warmth flowed from the drink. He decided he could get used to it.
He reached for the surprise in his pocket, preparing to smile, but Marguery was getting up. “Let’s go out on the balcony,” she said. “There’s a nice view.”
That was true. He looked around at the town of Dawson and the countryside so near beyond it. Everything seemed propitious for his surprise. As she sat down he remained standing. “Marguery,” he began, “I have something to—ouch!”
He swatted at his neck. When he pulled his hand away there was a drop of blood on it. “What was that?” he demanded.
She inspected his hand. “A mosquito, I guess,” she said, sympathetically. “That was just bad luck; there aren’t usually any up this high. But we’ve had a lot of them these past years. The birds used to eat them, but the birds got pretty well decimated in the bad years, just like us. What was it you were going to say?”
He sat down, rubbing his neck. “Just that I have something to give you,” he said, scowling. He had planned a more graceful presentation, but his neck really itched.
Marguery took the piece of paper he handed her and glanced at it curiously. It was the poem he had written for her that morning:
O my
very
Dear sweet Marguery!
How I desire to love
All the parts of you
The sweet limbs yes
The big breasts yes
The lips & eyes yes
The other parts yes
And all the rest yes
Love yes!
Love yes!
Love yes!
Love you!
Yes! You!
“My God,” she said, looking up at him.
He asked eagerly. “Do you like it?”
She didn’t answer right away. She read it over again carefully, then gave him a sidelong look. “Is that supposed to be a picture of me?”
“Well, no, Marguery,” he said, embarrassed. “It’s not a picture. That’s not how Hakh’hli poems go. It’s just supposed to sort of suggest you.”
“You made me look like a man.”
“Oh, but no! Not at all! You don’t look like a man in the least, dear Marguery. If I’ve offended you in any way—”
She put a finger across his lips, laughing. “Sandy, you haven’t offended me. That’s really nice, in fact. I don’t think anybody ever wrote a poem for me before. Only—”
He waited humbly for what was to come. “Yes?”
She bit her lip. “Well, the thing is—I guess I probably should have mentioned it before. I’m married, you see.”
He stared up at her in horror. “Oh, Marguery!” he whispered.
She seemed to be displeased. “Well, you don’t have to take it that hard.”
“Oh, but I do! I had no idea that you were a ‘married’ person. Can you possibly forgive me?”
“Oh, hell, Sandy! Of course I forgive you. There’s no law against hitting on somebody, even if they’re married. Especially if you don’t know they are. It’s really kind of flattering. In fact, I appreciate it.”
“Thank you,” he said gratefully. “I promise I won’t do it again. After all, there are plenty of other Female Hu—of other attractive women around for me to, uh, ‘hit on.’ ”
She didn’t look pleased at that. In fact, she was scowling. “Look, Sandy, slow down a minute, will you?” she commanded. “You’re a nice guy. I like you. There’s no reason to jump into something, like.”
He said simply, “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“I mean there’s no hurry. We’ve got plenty of time.”
He was puzzled. “But you said you were married?”
“Well, I am,” she said shortly. She picked up her drink and took a thoughtful swallow, while Lysander gazed at her in bafflement. “Only,” she added, “I’m not really working at being married. I haven’t even seen Dave for three or four months.”
“Dave? Is that your ‘husband’?”
She thought that over. “In a manner of speaking. It’s pretty much in the past tense, though. Look,” she said, putting down her glass. “Dave and I got married in college, seven years ago. He was a football player—could’ve done basketball if he wanted to, because he’s seven feet two. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a pretty big woman, and there aren’t that many men that go for my type. You’d think the big ones would, but you look at the couples and you’ll see those seven-footers are always with chicks no more than five feet three.”
“Why is that?” Sandy asked, interested.
“Why? Men! That’s why, because they’re men. Or anyway,” she added fairly. “I don’t know what the reason is, but that’s the way it goes. So when Dave asked me to marry him I didn’t know how long it would be before I got another chance. Anyway, I liked him. And we got along fine, too, while I was still trying to get into astronaut training—maybe he figured that was safe enough, because there weren’t any manned launches—until I signed up with InterSec. Then I think he felt threatened. He didn’t mind me being big, but he really didn’t like the idea of being married to a cop.”