“Because she’s dead,” Low replied bleakly. “Because she gave her life to—”
“Hey, I don’t give my life for anything. Well, maybe for the right story.”
Low gaped. Maggie was coming toward him. She had been concealed behind a pair of Cocytans. Her eyes sparkled, and there was a spring in her step he hadn’t seen since they’d first boarded the Atlantis.
There wasn’t a mark on her.
“But how…?” He gawked at his tall alien comrade.
Then she was in his arms, and he didn’t have to worry about whether the time was right for kissing. She made sure of that.
When at last she drew back, he could only gape and marvel. “I thought … I thought you didn’t want to be brought back? I thought you didn’t want to have anything to do with the life crystals?”
She was laughing at him. Dead one minute, giggling uncontrollably the next. Who said the universe had no sense of humor?
“Did I say anything about life crystals?” She indicated the two busy Cocytans behind her. One made a gesture in their direction that might have been a wave. “It seems that they’ve developed a number of different ways of doing the same thing. It’s just a matter of adjusting the crystal, or fine-tuning its inner frequency, or something. I don’t pretend to understand, even in translation, but they promised me there would be no side effects.”
“And the result?”
“What, already worried about me keeling over in the middle of visiting friends? The resurrection is permanent for the duration of my normal life span. Which, I am told, is now greatly enhanced. You can get the same treatment, and we’ll live long enough to be feted as famous old geezers.”
Not knowing what to say, Low glanced back at his newfound friend. “It is true,” said the Cocytan. “A properly attuned crystal will maximize your natural life span. We should like that. It will enable us to honor you that much longer.”
“We’ll go on and on, Boston,” she told him, “until our cellular machinery finally gives out. Maybe I can even finish that book I’ve always wanted to write.”
“I thought your people were rejecting immortality,” Low told the alien.
“Immortality, yes, but not a long and healthy natural life. The physical dimension offers too much to enjoy.”
As if to confirm these words, Low and Maggie embraced for the second time, even more tightly than before.
The pair of Cocytans who had revived her looked on with interest. “Are they mating?” wondered one.
“I do not think so,” declared the other. “I envy them their exquisite combination of emotional resonance and surface tactility.”
“Most touching.” The voice was cool, analytical … and familiar. Low and Maggie turned as one.
“Ludger?” the Commander exclaimed.
“Do you know anyone else on this world by that name?” The scientist came toward them. “As you can see, I seem to have developed an aversion to protracted death.”
“But you look … so old.” Maggie stared at the otherwise fit and healthy scientist. His hair had thinned and whitened and his skin looked as if he’d just emerged from twelve hours spent in a hot bath.
For the second time he made her a present of his formal bow. “Thank you so much for the compliment. I have been … on tour, I think you would say it. The realm of the deceased is a fascinating place, though I wouldn’t want to live there. I have learned much, in exchange for which a decade or so of life seems little enough to sacrifice. It is not as if I had any choice in the matter.” He turned to confront Low.
“If I recall correctly, Commander, we had a little disagreement.”
“I didn’t push you off that platform, Ludger. You fell.”
“I know, and I apologize most profoundly for my actions. I was not myself, but rather under the influence of the life crystals.” He gestured at his face, and Low noted the profusion of wrinkles and lines. “My appearance, I am told, is the result of their improper application. A lesson that I will more easily be able to impart to others, should the occasion arise.”
“He will still live a long time,” the Cocytan standing behind Low declared.
“I do not mind the premature aging.” Brink smiled. “It will give me status among my peers. In the professional circles in which I move, you’re not considered experienced until you’ve reached the age of sixty.” He chuckled. “Wait until those old fossils read my report on this expedition.”
“So you won’t need to take any more of the crystals?” Low asked him.
“No.” Brink smiled broadly. “I have been … attended to. They performed what I like to think of as neural chiropractic on me. I don’t need any more green.”
“And now,” announced the Cocytan, “I believe you would like to return to your home.”
“Return home?” Low shook his head in disbelief. It was altogether too many miracles to deal with at once. “But how?”
“By the same means that brought you here. The asteroid-ship retains a record of your transference. It is easily reprogrammed.”
“You mean, we could have done that all along?”
“No.” The Cocytan’s tone was somber. “You never could have done it. The mechanics are far beyond you. But not beyond your capacity to understand. With a little instruction, you will be surprised at what your kind can accomplish. And we will be glad to share. Not because we owe you, which we do, but because it is in our nature.”
“Let’s get going,” Maggie insisted. “I have a story to file.”
“You’re not afraid?” Low slipped his arm around her waist. “It’s a long way home, and an old piece of machinery.”
She took his hand in one of hers and Brink’s in the other. “Now, why should I be afraid of a little faster-than-light hop? I’ve already been dead, and Ludger twice. If one of us ought to be afraid, Boston, it’s you.”
But he wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t afraid at all. Not with a royal Cocytan retinue to escort them from the chamber.
The only thing Boston Low had ever been afraid of was ending up alone.
END