When I arrived at the little peninsula of land from whose tip the Governor’s mansion jutted up like a lighthouse beside an ocean of trees, I found the place a conflagration of candles, torches, spots, deck-mounted fluorescents, and ground lamps. Moses had lit up his house like a bonfire. The gallery at the front gleamed amid the intersecting arcs of several colored ground lamps, and the whole place shimmered. This, for Moses, was a fantastic display of opulence and courtesy. He usually let late-night visitors stumble to his door in the dark.
Moses was waiting for me. He looked spic and span in white coveralls and a pale-blue neck scarf. A pair of deck chairs sat in the middle of the verandah facing Frasierville, as if a conference of major import were soon to be held between their occupants. My step faltered. Moses beckoned me forward, and in a moment I climbed to the deck and suspiciously shook his hand.
‘How are you, Ben?’
‘Good,’ I mumbled. ‘Pretty good.’
Only when he invited me to sit, and waited for me to compose myself comfortably in the chair, did I understand that he had arranged this entire scene – the lights, the chairs, even the immaculate tastefulness of his attire – out of genuine respect for me. Respect and friendship. My discomfort increased. This was going to be harder than I expected.
‘Young Civ Cather was here earlier this afternoon,’ he said, finally allowing himself to sit.
‘How is she?’
‘Fine, I’d suppose. Quite subdued and intermittently very grave. She told me about your . . . your adventure.’ The way he spoke the word indicated he meant to imply that Elegy had told him the whole story.
‘Kretzoi?’ I asked.
‘She didn’t bring him. I think she feared he wouldn’t be welcome here. That isn’t the case, but I’m afraid that’s what she feared.’
‘Quarantine,’ I said reminiscently. Then I laughed a little.
Moses shifted in his chair. ‘I congratulated her, you understand. I have to congratulate you, too. I want to, that is. You’ve succeeded in something very important, and I’m glad you’re back. Very glad.’
‘Me, too, Moses. Jubilant, in fact.’
At that Moses laughed, surprising me. ‘You hardly sound it. I’ve never really encountered a jubilation in such a minor key before.’
‘Call it a realist’s jubilation.’
Nodding once, Moses granted me my point. Then he put his hands on his knees and gazed toward Frasierville. ‘You’re the only one of the remaining members of the Third Denebolan Expedition, Ben, with whom I was ever able to establish any degree of rapport.’ He stopped, embarrassed.
‘I know that. It served us reasonably well, didn’t it?’
‘Yes, it did. It does. That’s why I wanted to explain to you Glaktik Komm’s decision in regard to—’
I cut him off. ‘Before you explain anything, Moses – owing me no explanations at all, you understand – I have a request to make. A very simple one. A very important one.’
Moses waited.
‘I’d like to go home,’ I said.
‘Earth?’
‘East Africa. Kenya. Nairobi. The National University.’ The names of these places squeezed my heart, and the ache spread through my chest. ‘I know some people there, Moses, and if God and Glaktik Komm approve my wishes, they’ll still be alive when I get home.’
‘People?’ The Governor’s face betrayed a touching puzzlement, as if he’d never really considered the possibility that Earth might any longer harbor such an animal.
‘Human beings,’ I said, laughing again. ‘Latter-day representatives of Homo sapiens sapiens. Man the Wise the Wise.’ I had a sudden vision of Elegy in the catacombs. ‘I’m speaking genetically, you understand.’
Moses smiled. ‘Oh, those. Yes, people.’
‘I’ve been here a long time, I’m close to deserving a little special consideration, and I’d like you to initiate the personnel procedures approving my early release and my passage home. I ask you to do this out of your friendship for me, Moses, and out of my own awareness that I’ve nothing else to offer BoskVeld.’
Moses’s silence was a key to his agitation. Finally, he got up and strolled along the deck to the hooded doorway leading downward into the main living area of his house. He opened the massive door and pushed it inward. I saw some elegant wallpaper, some hardwood wainscoting, and a gleaming brass stair rail descending into light and coziness.
‘Come in, Ben. David and little Reba are in bed. Come have a drink with Rebecca and me.’
The gesture was almost unprecedented. I gaped at Moses and the open doorway. What would it mean to refuse his hospitality? Not a negation of our friendship, surely. We had survived as friends for many years without ever once attempting to rake through the coals at the bottoms of each other’s hearts. Moses – in his quiet, reclusive way – had made commitments much deeper than I ever had. I wasn’t one of them, and, in truth, he owed me nothing.
‘Moses, I haven’t eaten. A drink would undo me. Let’s stay on the verandah. This is a very comfortable chair.’
The words sounded makeshift, false – but it was a matter of absolute necessity that I say them, afterward fervently hoping that Moses didn’t take offense. They were not, after all, a rejection of him, but an affirmation of the remaining possibilities of my life.
‘We could get you something to eat, Ben.’
‘Please, no. I’m going to fast for the next few days, purge my system. Hot water and citric acid.’ I suddenly realized that this was the truth, not a spur-of-the-moment apologia for my refusal to enter Moses’s house. ‘After that, well – I’ll probably ease back into shameless carnivory.’
Moses, bless him, laughed. He pulled his door to and rejoined me at the center of the verandah. Standing with his hands in his pockets, he rocked a little on the soles of his feet and stared at the moist, melon-green lights of Frasierville.
‘Consider your request approved,’ he said. ‘There’s a probeship arriving within the week. Young Civ Cather and her primate friend will be
