He took the chair that was not warm after her, stuffed his pipe, and smoked furiously.
A light footfall raised him from his brooding. Tyra entered. As usual, her countenance brightened to see him. “Hi,” she greeted, an Americanism acquired in their conversations. “Care you for some company?”—as if she had never before joined him here for hours on end, or he her when she had the duty. “Remember, you promised to tell me about your adventure on—” She halted. Her tone flattened. “Something is woeful.”
“I hope not,” he said. “I hope I’m mistaken.”
She seated herself. “If I can help or console, Robert, only ask. Or if you wish not to share the trouble, tell me I should hold my mouth.”
She knows how to be silent, he thought. We’ve passed happy times with not a word, listening to music or looking at some work of art or simply near each other.
“You’re right,” he said. “I can’t talk about it till—till I must. With luck, I’ll never have to.”
The blue eyes searched him. “It concerns you and me, no?” How grave and quiet she had become.
Alarmed, he countered, “Did I say that?”
“I feel it. We are dear friends. At least, you are for me.”
“And you—” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
“I believe you are torn.”
“Wait a minute.”
She leaned forward and took his free hand between hers. “Because you are a good man, an honest man,” she said. “You keep your promises.” She paused. “But—”
“Let’s change the subject, shall we?” he interrupted.
“Are you afraid? Yes, you are. Afraid of to give pain.”
“Stop,” he barked. “No more of this. You hear me?” He pulled his hand away.
An implacable calm was upon her. “As you wish, my dear. For the rest of the journey. You have right. Anything else is indecent, among all of us. But in some more days we are at Wunderland.”
“Yes,” he said, thickly and foolishly.
“You will be there a length of time.”
“Busy.”
“Not always. You know that. We will make decisions. It may take long, but at last we must. About the rest of our lives.”
“Maybe.”
“Quite certainly.” She rose. “I think best I go now. You should be alone with your heart for this while.”
He stared at the deck. “You’re probably right.”
Steadiness failed her a little. “Robert, whatever happens, whatsoever, you are dear to me.” Her footfalls dwindled off into silence.
A squat black form stood at a distance down the passage, like a barricade. “Hallo,” said Tyra dully.
Carita fell into step with her. “That was a short visit.”
Tyra bridled. “You watched?”
“I noticed. Couldn’t help it. Can’t, day after day. A kdat would see. I want a word with you.”
Tyra flushed. “Please to be polite.”
“We’re overdue for a talk,” the Jinxian insisted. “This is a loose hour for both of us. Will you come along?” Although tone and gait were unthreatening, the hint lay beneath them that if necessary, she might pick the other woman up and carry her.
“Very well,” Tyra clipped. They walked on mute to the pilot’s cabin and inside.
Carita shut the door. Eyes met and held fast. “What do you want?” Tyra demanded.
“You know perfectly well what,” Carita stated. “You and the skipper.”
“We are friends! Nothing more!”
“No privacy aboard ship for anything else, if you’re civilized. Sure, you’ve kept out of the sack. A few kisses, maybe, but reasonably chaste, like in a flirtation. Only that’s not what it is any longer. You’re waiting till we get to Wunderland.”
Tyra lifted her arm as if to strike, then let it fall. “Do you call Robert a schleicher—a, a sneak?” she blazed.
Carita’s manner mildened. “Absolutely not. Nor you. This is simply a thing that’s happened. Neither of you would’ve wanted it, and you didn’t see it coming till too late. I believe you’re as bewildered, half joyful and half miserable, as he is.”
Tyra dropped her gaze. She clenched fists against breasts. “It is difficult,” she whispered.
“True, you being an honorable person.”
Tyra rallied. “It is our lives. His and mine.”
“Dorcas saved your father’s,” Carita answered. “Later she saved all of us. Yes, Bob was there, but you know damn well he couldn’t have done what he did without her. How do you propose to repay that? Money doesn’t count, you know.”
“Ich kann nicht anders!” Tyra cried. “He and I, we are caught.”
“You are free adults,” Carita said. “You’re trapped in nothing but yourselves. Tyra, you’re smart, gifted, beautiful, and soon you’ll be rich. You’ve got every prospect bright ahead of you. What we’ve got is a good marriage and a happy ship. Bob will come back to her, if you let him go.”
“Will he? How can I? Shall I leave him hurt forever?”
Carita smiled. She reached to lay an arm around the taller woman’s shoulders. “I had a hunch that’d be what makes you feel so helpless. Sit down, honey. I’ll pour us a drink and we’ll talk.”
Chapter XXI
The Jinxian relieved Saxtorph at the end of his watch. Lost in tumult, he barely noticed how she regarded him and forgot about it as he went out.
Oh, hell, he thought, I’m getting nowhere, only churning around in a maelstrom. Before it drags me under, I’d better—what? Have a bite to eat, I guess, take a sleeping pill, go to bed, hope I’ll wake up clear-headed.
That he came to the place he did at the minute he did was coincidence. Nobody meant to stage anything. It made no difference, except that he would otherwise have found out less abruptly.
The door to Tyra’s cabin stood half open, Kamehameha Ryan in it. His hair was rumpled, his clothes hastily thrown on, his expression slightly dazed. Saxtorph stopped short. A tidal wave surged through him.
The quartermaster said into the room: “—hard to believe. I never would have—I mean, Bob’s more than my captain, he’s my friend, and—”
Her laugh purred. “What, feel you guilty? No need. I enjoy his company, yes, and I had ideas, but he is too much married. Maybe when we are on Wunderland.
