Meade was weeping silently; old Charlie was wringing his hands and looking out of place and unhappy. Dr Stone worked with set face, her features hardened to masculine, professional lines. Lowell, his hand in Meade’s was dry-eyed but distressed, not understanding, not yet knowing death. Castor’s mouth was twisted, crying heavily as a man cries, the sobs wrung from him; Pollux, emotion already exhausted, was silent.
When Edith Stone relieved him, Roger Stone backed away, turned toward the others. His face was without anger but without hope. Pollux whispered, ‘Dad? Is she?’
Roger Stone then noticed them, came over and put an arm around Castor’s heaving shoulders. ‘You must remember, boy, that she is very old. They don’t have much comeback at her age.’
Hazel’s eyes opened. ‘Who doesn’t boy?’
XIX — THE ENDLESS TRAIL
Hazel had used the ancient fakir’s trick, brought to the west, so it is said, by an entertainer called Houdini, of breathing as shallowly as possible and going as quickly as may be into a coma. To hear her tell it, there never had been any real danger. Die? Shucks, you couldn’t suffocate in a coffin in that length of time. Sure, she had had to depend on Lowell to keep up the cry for help; he used less oxygen. But deliberate suicide to save the boy? Ridiculous! There hadn’t been any need to.
It was not until the next day that Roger Store called the boys in. He told them, ‘You did a good job on the rescue. We’ll forget the technical breach of confinement to the ship.’
Castor answered, ‘It wasn’t anything. Hazel did it, really. I mean, it was an idea that we got out of her serial, the skew orbit episode.’
‘I must not have read that one.’
‘Well, it was a business about how to sort out one piece of space from another when you don’t have too much data to go on. You see, Captain Sterling had to —’
‘Never mind. That’s not what I wanted to talk with you about, you did a good job, granted, no matter what suggested it to you. If only conventional search methods had been used, your grandmother would unquestionably now be dead. You are two very intelligent men — when you take the trouble. But you didn’t take the trouble soon enough. Not about the gyros.’
‘But Dad, we never dreamed —’
‘Enough.’ He reached for his waist; the twins noticed that he was wearing an old-fashioned piece of apparel — a leather belt. He took it off. ‘This belonged to your great grandfather. He left it to your grandfather — who in turn left it to me. I don’t know how far back it goes — but you might say that the Stone family was founded on it.’ He doubled it and tried it on the palm of his hand. ‘All of us, all the way back, have very tender memories of it. Very tender. Except you two.’ He again whacked his palm with it.
Castor said, ‘You mean you’re going to beat us with that?’
‘Have you any reason to offer why I shouldn’t?’
Castor looked at Pollux, sighed and moved forward, I’ll go first, I’m the older.’
Roger moved to a drawer, put the belt inside. ‘I should have used it ten years ago.’ He closed the drawer. ‘It’s too late, now.’
‘Aren’t you going to do it?’
‘I never said I was going to. No.’
The twins swapped glances. Castor went on’ ‘Dad — Captain. We’d rather you did,’
Pollux added quickly, ‘Much rather.’
‘I know you would. That way you’d be through with it. But instead you’re going to have to live with it. That’s the way adults have to do it’
‘But Dad —’
‘Go to your quarters, sir.’
When it was time for the Rolling Stone to leave for Ceres a good proportion of the community crowded into City Hall to bid the doctor and her family good-by; all the rest were hooked in by radio, a full town meeting. Mayor Fries made a speech and presented them with a scroll which made them all honorary citizens of Rock City, now and forever; Roger Stone tried to answer and choked up. Old Charlie, freshly bathed, cried openly. Meade sang one more time into the microphone, her soft contralto unmixed this time with commercialism. Ten minutes later the Stone drifted out-orbit and back.