The Spheres of Heaven

“You really don’t know, do you?” Liddy, head to one side, was studying Bony. “I can tell you’ve never been rich. Neither have I, but I’ve been around wealthy people. Things are different when you’re rich. Indigo bought me, you know.”

“That’s terrible.” Bony said the words automatically, but he was in some ways relieved. At least Liddy wasn’t Friday Indigo’s mate by choice.

“Being bought is much worse the first time it happens. But that’s not my point. My point is, Indigo bought you, too.”

“Never. I’m a free man.”

“Then what are you doing, working while he’s sleeping? What are you doing here at all, lost in the Geyser Swirl?”

Bony had a good answer to the last question, but he was not willing to give it. He stood up. “Come on. Let’s go and work on the airlock while he’s still asleep.”

“You’re trying to change the subject.” Liddy followed him down the ladder. “Let me explain something to you. When you’re born rich, like Friday Indigo, you don’t do things. You buy things. And those things include more than material objects. You buy people. You buy services. You buy reassurance. Friday Indigo is using his money now to buy peace of mind. He bought your services, so he expects you to save the ship and him and find a way home. Why shouldn’t he sleep easy?”

“He’s crazy.” Bony was in the airlock, moving to one side of the small compartment so that Liddy could join him. There was barely space for two people. “I don’t even know if we can get outside this ship.”

“Maybe he is crazy. But you know what?” Liddy stopped right in front of him, their faces six inches apart and eye to eye. “I agree with him. I expect you to save me, too.”

Bony felt a curious heat and pressure in his belly, as though the inside was being cooked in a microwave oven at high setting. He stepped hurriedly backward, and a faucet for the delivery of air to the lock poked him hard in the small of his back. He exclaimed in pain.

Liddy laughed. “What are you doing? I’m not infectious.”

“If Indigo comes down here, and sees us together like this …”

“Like what? You haven’t touched me. And he was the one who told me to go with you and try to be useful for a change.”

“He’s an absolute bastard.”

“Everything’s relative. I saw a lot worse when I was growing up.”

“Where was that?” Bony turned away, partly to study the hatch design and partly to escape Liddy’s eyes. “I know you said you lived down on Earth.”

“I did, but I’m not sure it would mean anything to you. Did you ever hear of a place called the Shambles?”

Bony couldn’t help staring at her. “No.”

“Yes, you did.” She cocked her head to one side. “Your face gives you away. Why won’t you tell me the truth?”

“I’ve heard bad things about the Shambles. It’s supposed to be the worst of the Terran basement warrens.”

“It’s like most places, some parts better than others. I was lucky. I was educated at one of the better schools.”

“Which one was that?” Bony knew more about the Shambles than he was willing to admit, and schools were not what came first to mind.

“The Leah Rainbow Academy for the Daughters of Gentlefolk.”

“My God.” It didn’t need his face to give him away this time, the words popped right out.

“Uh-oh.” Liddy grimaced. “You’ve heard of that, too. Then I’ve said too much. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I had no idea, not one in a million off-Earthers has heard of it.”

“I have, because—” Bony was on the point of telling the truth, but he caught himself just in time “—because I’ve read a lot about Earth.”

“That’s even more peculiar. I didn’t think anybody wrote about the Academy. Customers normally came through a personal recommendation.”

“How did you come to be living there? At the Leah Rainbow Academy, I mean.” Bony sank down on his knees, studying the geometry of the lock. The internal air pressure was the same as in the rest of the ship, one standard atmosphere. The hatch was facing almost directly downward. When they closed the inner hatch, sealing themselves off from the ship, and opened the outer hatch just a crack, one of two things would happen. If the outside water pressure was less than the internal air pressure, some air would bubble out. If the outside pressure was greater, water would enter until the pressures equalized.

Were there any other possibilities? Well, there was always the improbable case where the inside and outside pressures were exactly equal, but chances were strongly against that. And there was the case where Bony had forgotten to take account of some crucial variable, and as the hatch was cracked open something totally unforeseen happened.

He was willing to take that risk. But he didn’t see why Liddy should be exposed to it, too. He stood up, suddenly aware that he had asked her a question whose answer he was very much interested in hearing; but he had no idea of how she had replied.

“I’m sorry. You were saying?”

“I wasn’t. I can tell when somebody isn’t listening.” Liddy sounded more amused than annoyed. “I thought I was here to help? All I’ve done so far is stand around.”

“You can help right now. You go back in the ship and stand next to the inner hatch. I’m going to stay here, close the inner hatch, and then open the outer one.”

“Shouldn’t you put a suit on? Suppose the fizziness in the water is something poisonous?”

“The tests say that’s it’s just oxygen, and lots of it. But I’m going to wear a suit anyway. And so are you.”

“Why do I need a suit, if I’m going to stay in the ship?”

“In case you have to do a rescue operation. We will be in radio communication, and I will make sure I keep talking. If I stop, or if I start to sound or act peculiar, don’t wait. Close the outer hatch most of the way — I’ll show you how to do it from inside the ship — then pump air from the ship into the lock until the water is driven out. You may find there’s still a little bit that won’t leave, because the hatch isn’t exactly horizontal. Don’t worry about that. Close the outer hatch completely when it’s as water-free as it will go. Then open the inner hatch, go into the lock in your suit, and drag me into the ship. Seal the inner hatch again. Until all that is done, don’t waste a moment finding out what happened to me. Did you follow all that, and remember it?”

“Yes.” Calm, quiet, and trusting. That made Bony feel good.

“Let’s do it, then. Quickly, Liddy, so I don’t have time to think of anything that might go wrong.”

“Nothing will. I told you, you’re going to save us all.” Liddy didn’t seem capable of a graceless movement. She stripped off her outer clothes and slipped into the suit as though it was something she did every day. Bony, aware that his extra pounds showed a lot more when he was undressed, did the same thing slowly and awkwardly.

Then he was standing in the lock, and Liddy was in the ship. The inner hatch, like the outer one, had a small, round port in it about six inches across. Bony closed the hatch and peered through. He could see Liddy, less than two feet away but with three layers of toughened transparent plastic between them. She raised her eyebrows at him in dumb show, then said over the radio, “All right?”

Bony nodded. “Everything is fine.” He had promised to talk to her nonstop, but that might be more demanding than it sounded. What was there to say? He glanced down at the outer hatch, right beneath his feet. He had to be careful to avoid standing on it as the plate slid to one side to admit whatever it was that lay outside the Mood Indigo , but that was the only thing he had to do; the only thing he could do. When the hatch opened, the rest of it would be out of his hands.

Bony glanced again at the inner hatch. Liddy was still there. She pursed her lips in a kiss and said, “Good luck!”

Bony gave the signal and the outer hatch began to slide open. He watched closely, then said, “External liquid pressure seems to be more than pressure in the ship, but not much more. I think it won’t rise much farther than my