Anxious to get away from Nowhere, he wanted his flight orders.
One of our free companions and three men I couldn’t spare had asked to leave on the Erewhon.
The magnetometers showed a dangerous new magnetic flux around a rock near the center of Nowhere.
A dozen other problems called for my attention, and I had to end the interview.
“Sorry.”
When I saw the quiet desperation that tightened the girl’s perfect face and darkened her tawny eyes, I felt a stab of genuine regret, but I tried to keep my voice crisply firm.
“My job’s to keep the station safe,” I said.
“You’ve failed to explain what happened to those spacemen on the Erewhon.
You’ve failed to give me any believable reason for being here.
You’ve failed to show me any official permission.
I can’t allow you aboard.”
Old Habibula turned crimson, wheezing and sputtering incoherently. The girl straightened, looking straight at me.
Her eyes had a terrible directness.
“Captain Ulnar,” she asked abruptly, “why are you here?”
I didn’t want to tell her.
I knew I didn’t have to tell her.
Yet somehow her searching eyes required the truth.
“The reason—the reason is my name.” Stumbling awkwardly, I confessed that painful fact.
“Lars Ulnar is the wrong name for advancement in the Legion.
Ulnar was a great name once—made great by many generations of space pioneers—but it has been disgraced by evil men.
I volunteered for Nowhere Near because I had to prove that I was better than my name.”
Her probing eyes were merciless.
“So you are kin to Commander Ken Star?”
“Distantly.” Puzzled, I met her desperate eyes.
“He is John Star’s younger son.
John Star was John Ulnar, before the Green Hall rewarded his heroism with a better name.
But I’ve never met Commander Star—and I’ve no reason to expect him here.”
“For life’s precious sake!” bellowed old Habibula.
“We just told you he’s on his way.”
I ignored that insolent outburst. “My own people come from another branch of the family tree,” I told the girl.
“We’ve had our small part in the conquest of space, but we were never great. Never traitors, either.
We never shared the glory of the Purple Hall, but we can’t escape its shame.” For another cruel moment, her darkened eyes studied me.
“Perhaps you can,” she whispered. “I hope you can.”
I waited for another moment, hoping she would show me some genuine reason to let them stay.
I thought she was going to speak, but she only caught her breath and turned away.
I left them in the lock, the old man whimpering like a punished animal.
Captain Scabbard looked ugly when I told him that he had to keep his passengers, but he didn’t wait to argue long.
Our instruments showed a violent new disturbance raging out in the anomaly.
If he feared the old soldier and the girl, he was more afraid of Nowhere.
I had to let the disenchanted free companion go with htm.
Her enlistment had expired, and I failed to persuade her to stay.
A pert brunette named Gay Kawai, she had been the life of the station, but now, since I had seen Lilith Adams, she was suddenly old and fat and commonplace.
With regret, I refused leave to the three men who had asked to go with her.
Their Legion enlistments had another year to run, and I had no replacements for them.
Along with half a dozen other silent, bitter men, they attended Gay Kawai to the valves.
Their morale, I saw, was going to be a problem.
Captain Scabbard took his flight orders, muttering that he hoped never to see me again.
The valves thunked against their seals.
The Erewhon was gone, with the soldier and the girl.
At first I was almost grateful for that new activity out in the anomaly, because it gave Gay Kawai’s unhappy friends something else to think about. By the end of the next shift, however, we had too much to think about.