“All right,” said Ross. “See that shed with the boxes outside it? Over we go.”
The shed was right up against the fence; the metal boxes gave a sort of rough and just barely climbable foothold. Helena was easy enough to lift to the top of the shed; Ross, grunting, managed to clamber after her.
They looked down at the ground on the other side, a dozen feet away. “You don’t have to come along,” Ross told her.
“That’s \Mst.like you!” she flared. “Cast me aside— trample on me!”
“All right, all right.” Ross looked around, but neither junior nor elder was anywhere in sight. “Hang by your hands and then drop,” he advised her. “Get moving before somebody shows up.”
“On Holiday?” she asked bitterly. She squirmed over the narrow top of the fence, legs dangling, let herself down as far as she could, and let go. Ross watched anxiously, but she got up quickly enough and moved to one side.
Ross plopped down next to her, knocking the wind out of himself. He got up dizzily.
His ship, in lonesome quiet, was less than a quarter of a mile away. “Let’s go,” Ross panted, and clutched her hand. They skirted another shed and were in the clear, running as fast as they could.
Almost in the clear.
Ross heard the whine of the little scooter before he felt the blow, but it was too late. He sprawled on the ground, dragging Helena after him.
A Senior Citizen with a long-handled rod of the sort Ross remembered all too well was scowling down at them. “Children,” he rumbled through his breast-speaker in a voice of awful disgust, “is this the way to act on Holiday?”
Helena, gibbering in terror, was beyond words. Ross croaked, “Sorry, sir. We—we were just——”
Crash! The rod came down again, and every muscle in Ross’s body convulsed. He rolled helplessly away, the elder following him. Crash! “We give you Holiday,” the elder boomed, “and——” crash “——you act like animals. Ter-
rible! Don’t you know that freedom of play on Holiday——” crash “——is the most sacred right of every junior——” crash “——and heaven help you——” crash “——if you abuse it!”
The wrenching punishment and the caressing voice stopped together. Ross lay blinking into the terrible silence that followed. He became conscious of Helena’s weeping, and forced his head to turn to look at her.
She was standing behind the elder’s scooter, a length of wire hi her hand. The senior lay slumped against his safety strap. “Ross!” she moaned. “Ross, what have I done? / turned him offl”
He stood up, coughing and retching. No one else was hi sight, only the two of them and the silent, slack form of the old man. He grabbed her arm. “Come on,” he said fuzzily, and started toward the starship.
She hung back, mumbling to herself, her eyes saucers. She was hi a state of grievous shock, it was clear.
Ross hesitated, rubbing his back. He knew that she might never pull out of it. Even if she did, she was certain to be a frightful handicap. But it was crystal-clear that she had declared herself on his side. Even ft the elder could be revived, the punishment hi store for Helena would be awful to contemplate. . . .
Come what may, he was now responsible for Helena.
He towed her to the starship. She climbed in docilely enough, sat staring blankly as he sealed ship and sent it blasting off the face of the planet.
She didn’t speak until they were well into deep space. Then the blank stare abruptly clouded and she exploded in a fit of tears. Ross said ineffectually, “There, there.” It had no effect; until, in its own time, the storm ended.
Helena said hoarsely, “Wh-what do I do now?”
“Why, I guess you come right along with me,” Ross said heartily, cursing his luck.
“Where’s that?”
“Where? You mean, where?” Ross scratched his head. “Well, let’s see. Frankly, Helena, your planet was quite a disappointment to me. I had hoped—— Well, no matter.
I suppose the best thing to do is to look up the next planet on the list.”
“What list?”