“Hal, I have a mind to…”
“Remember, I’m heavier.”
“But I am angrier, you understand? Idiot!”
“Olaf, don’t yell. We aren’t alone here.”
“All right. OK. Well, was it nonsense or not?” .
“No.”
Olaf inhaled until his nostrils went white.
“Why not?” he asked almost genially.
“Because, even before that, I had noticed Gimma’s… tight-fistedness. It was my duty to foresee what might happen and confront Gimma immediately — and not when I returned with Arder’s obituary. I was too soft. That is why not.”
“I see. Yes. You were too soft… No! I… Hal! I can’t. I’m leaving.”
He got up from the table abruptly; so did I.
“Are you crazy?” I cried. “He’s leaving! All because…”
“Yes. Yes. Do I have to listen to your fantasies? No, thank you. Arder didn’t reply?”
“Leave it be.”
“He didn’t reply, right?”
“He didn’t reply.”
“Could he have had a corona?”
I was silent.
“Could he have had any of a thousand other kinds of accidents? Or did he enter an echo belt? Did it kill his signal when he lost contact in the turbulence? Or did his emitters demagnetize above a sunspot and… ?”
“Enough.”
“You won’t admit I’m right? You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“True. Well, then, could any of the things I said have happened?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you insist that it was the radio, the radio and nothing else, only the radio?”
“You may be right,” I said. I felt terribly tired, I no longer cared.
“You may be right,” I repeated. “The radio… it was simply the most likely thing… No. Don’t say anything else. We’ve already talked about it ten times more than was necessary.”
Olaf walked up to me.
“Bregg,” he said, “you poor old soldier… you have too much good in you, you know that?”
“What good?”
“A sense of responsibility. There should be moderation in everything. What do you intend to do?”
“About what?”
“You know.”
“I have no idea.”
“It’s bad, is it?”
“Couldn’t be worse.”
“How about going away with me? Or somewhere — alone. If you like, I can help you arrange it. I can take your things or you can leave them, or…”
“You think I ought to hightail it?”
“I don’t think anything. But when I see you lose control of yourself, just a little, as you did a moment ago… then…”
“Then?”
“Then I begin to wonder.”
“I don’t want to go away. You know what? I won’t budge from here. And if…”
“What?”
“Never mind. That robot, at the service station, what did it say? When will the car be ready? Was it tomorrow or today? I’ve forgotten.”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Good. Look: it’s getting dark. We’ve chatted away the entire afternoon.”
“God preserve us from such chats!”
“I was joking. Shall we go for a swim?”
“No. I’d like to read. Can you give me something?”
“Take whatever you want. Do you know how to work those grains of glass?”
“Yes. I hope you don’t have that… that reading device with the sugary voice.”
“No, all I have is an opton.”
“Fine. I’ll take it. You’ll be in the pool?”
“Yes. But I’ll go upstairs with you. I have to change.”
I gave him a few books, mostly history, and one thing on the stabilization of population dynamics, since that interested him. And biology, with a long article on betrization. As for me, I started to change but couldn’t find my trunks. I had mislaid them somewhere. No sign of them. I took Olaf’s black trunks, put on my bathrobe, and went outside.
The sun had already set. From the west a bank of clouds was moving in, extinguishing the brighter part of the sky. I threw my robe on the sand, cool now after the heat of the day. I sat down, let my toes dangle in the water. The conversation had disturbed me more than I cared to admit. Arder’s death stuck in me like a splinter. Olaf may have been right. Perhaps it was only the claim of a memory that had never been reconciled…
I got up and made a flat dive, without any spring, head down. The water was warm. I had braced myself for cold and was taken by surprise. I surfaced. Too warm, like swimming in soup. I had just climbed out on the opposite side, leaving dark wet hand marks on the rail, when something pierced me in the heart. The story of Arder had carried me into a different world, but now, possibly because the water was warm — was supposed to be warm — I remembered the girl, and it was as if I had remembered something horrible, a misfortune that I could not overcome, yet had to.
And it may have been only my imagination. I examined the idea uncertainly, hunched over in the growing dusk. I could hardly see my own body, my tan hid me in the darkness. The clouds now filled the sky, and unexpectedly, too soon, it was night. From the house, a whiteness approached. Her bathing cap. Panic seized me. I got up slowly. I intended simply to run away, but she spotted me against the sky.
“Mr. Bregg?” she said in a small voice.
“It’s me. You want to swim? I am in the way. I’m leaving…”
“Why? You are not bothering me. Is the water warm?”
“Yes. For my taste, too warm,” I said. She walked to the edge and jumped in lightly. I saw only her silhouette. Her bathing suit was dark. A splash. She surfaced near my feet.
“Terrible!” she cried, spitting out water. “What has he done? Some cold ought to be let in. Do you know how?”
“No. But I’ll find out in a moment.”
I dived over her head. I swam down, low, until I could touch the bottom, and I began to swim along it, touching the concrete every now and then. Underwater, as is usually the case, it was a little brighter than in the air, so that I was able to locate the inflow pipes. They were in the wall opposite the house. I swam to the surface, somewhat out of breath, since I had been under for a while.
“Bregg!” I heard her voice.
“Here. What’s wrong?”
“I was frightened…” she said, more quietly.
“Of what?”
“You were gone so long.”
“I know where it is now. We’ll have it fixed in no time!” I called out and ran to the house. I could have spared myself the heroic dive; the taps were in full view, on a column near the veranda. I turned on the cold water and returned to the pool.
