The Anything Box

thumb in the crack of the door.'I won't make a sound.' She coaxed the door open a little farther, her hand creeping inside,
fumbling for the knob, the little button.
'But ma'am, you couldn't see 'em from here anyway.'
Quicker than thought, Serena jerked the door open and darted in, pushingthe little button and slamming the door to with what seemed to her a thunderthat vibrated through the whole building. Breathlessly, afraid to think, shesped through the anteroom and into the conference room. She came to a scaredskidding stop, her hands tight on the back of a chair, every eye in the roomon her. Thorn, almost unrecognizable in his armor of authority and severity,stood up abruptly.
'Serena!' he said, his voice cracking with incredulity. Then he sat downagain, hastily.
Serena circled the table, refusing to meet the eyes that bored intoher—blue eyes, brown eyes, black eyes, yellow eyes, green eyes, lavender eyes.She turned at the foot of the table and looked fearfully up the shining expanse.
'Gentlemen,' her voice was almost inaudible. She cleared her throat.'Gentlemen.' She saw General Worsham getting ready to speak—his face harshlyunfamiliar with the weight of his position. She pressed her hands to thepolished table and leaned forward hastily.
'You're going to quit, aren't you? You're giving up!' The translators bentto their mikes and their lips moved to hers. 'What have you been talking aboutall this time? Guns? Battles? Casualty lists?We'll-do-this-to-you-if-you- do-that-to-us? I don't know! . . .' she cried,shaking her head tightly, almost shuddering, '… I don't know what goes on athigh level conference tables. All I know is that I've been teaching Mrs. Pinkto knit, and how to cut a lemon pie . . .' she could see the bewilderedinterpreters thumbing their manuals '. . . and already I know why they're hereand what they want!' Pursing her lips, she half-whistled, half-trilled in herhalting Linjeni, 'Doovie baby. No more Linjeni babies!'
One of the Linjeni started at Doovie's name and stood up slowly,his lavender bulk towering over the table. Serena saw the interpretersthumbing frantically again. She knew they were looking for a translation ofthe Linjeni 'baby.' Babies had no place in a military conference.
The Linjeni spoke slowly, but Serena shook her head. 'I don't know enoughLinjeni.'
There was a whisper at her shoulder. 'What do you know of Doovie?' And a
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pair of earphones were pushed into her hands. She adjusted them with trembling
fingers. Why were they letting her talk? Why was General Worsham sitting there
letting her break into the conference like this?
'I know Doovie,' she said breathlessly. 'I know Doovie's mother, too.
Doovie plays with Splinter, my son— my little son.' She , twisted her fingers,
dropping her head at the murmur that arose around the table. The Linjeni spoke
again and the metallic murmur of the earphones gave her the translation. 'What
is the color of Doovie's mother?'
'Pink,' said Serena.
Again the scurry for a word—pink—pink. Finally Serena turned up the hem of
her skirt and displayed the hem of her slip—rose pink. The Linjeni sat down
again, nodding.
'Serena,' General Worsham spoke as quietly as though it were just another
lounging evening in the patio. 'What do you want?'
Serena's eyes wavered and then her chin lifted.
'Thorn said today would be the last day. That it was to be 'no' on both
sides. That we and the Linjeni have no common meeting ground, no basis for
agreement on anything.'
'And you think we have?' General Worsham's voice cut gently through the
stir at the naked statement of thoughts and attitudes so carefully concealed.
'I know we do. Our alikenesses outweigh our differences so far that it's
just foolish to sit here all this time, shaking our differences at each other
and not finding out a thing about our likenesses. We are fundamentally the
same—the same—' she faltered. 'Under God we are all the same.' And she knew
with certainty that the translators wouldn't find God's name in their books.
'I think we ought to let them eat our salt and bread and make them welcome!'
She half smiled and said, 'The word for salt is shreeprill.'
There was a smothered rush of whistling from the Linjeni, and the lavender
Linjeni half rose from his chair but subsided.
General Worsham glanced at the Linjeni speculatively and pursed his lips.
'But there are ramifications—' he began.
'Ramifications!' spat Serena. 'There are no ramifications that can't
resolve themselves if two peoples really know each other!'
She glanced around the table, noting with sharp relief that Thorn's face
had softened.
'Come with me!' she urged. 'Come and see Doovie and Splinter
together—Linjeni young and ours, who haven't learned suspicion and fear and
hate and prejudice yet. Declare a—a—recess or a truce or whatever is necessary
and come with me. After you see the children and see Mrs. Pink knitting and we
talk this matter over like members of a family—Well, if you still think you
have to fight after that, then—' she spread her hands.
Her knees shook so as they started downhill that Thorn had to help her
walk.
'Oh, Thorn,' she whispered, almost sobbing. 'I didn't think they would. I
thought they'd shoot me or lock me up or—'
'We don't want war. I told you that,' he murmured. 'We're ready to grab at
straws, even in the guise of snippy females who barge in on solemn councils
and display their slips!' Then his lips tightened. 'How long has this been
going on?'
'For Splinter, a couple of weeks. For me, a little more than a week.'
'Why didn't you tell me?'
'I tried—twice. You wouldn't listen. I was too scared to insist. Besides,
you know what your reaction would have been.'
Thorn had no words until they neared the foot of the hill, then he said,
'How come you know so much? What makes you think you can solve—'
Serena choked back a hysterical laugh. 'I took eggs to a picnic!'
And then they were standing, looking down at the hole under the fence.
'Splinter found the way,' Serena defended. 'I made it bigger, but you'll
have to get down—flat.'
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She dropped to the sand and wiggled under. She crouched on the other side,
her knees against her chest, her clasped hands pressed against her mouth, and
waited. There was a long minute of silence and then a creak and a grunt and
Serena bit her lips as General Worsham inched under the fence, flat on the
sand, catching and jerking free halfway through. But her amusement changed to
admiration as she realized that even covered with dust, scrambling awkwardly