“Has it occurred to you just how bad and stupid that law is? Go down the line, tick off the points one by one. First, it’s a gross infringement of civil liberties. People have the constitutional right to decide what they’ll make of their own lives. An enforced marriage isn’t legally a marriage at all. Second, this kind of situation is so wildly improbable that there’s no reason for a law regulating it. How sloppy are space crews supposed to be, anyhow? There’s almost no excuse for getting marooned. Even explorers, Survey ships, don’t head into the wild black yonder. They identify in advance the stars they’re going to visit, using astronomical telescopes. If they aren’t back within a reasonable time, a rescue expedition will know where to search!”

  “True,” said Marie. “Though I am surprised that you, a civilian, know so much about Survey procedure.”

  “I don’t, really,” confessed Teresina. “I only reasoned it out, on the assumption that space explorers aren’t idiots.”

  “Well,” said Kamala, “this is indeed an unnecessary law, as you point out. But that sort of thing is not unknown. There are many regulations providing for the weirdest contingencies. For example, in one of the American states, I have heard, it is illegal to take a bath by the side of the highway on Sunday mornings. So a law regulating castaways is not out of the pattern, even if I have never heard of a situation like ours arising before.”

  “All right,” said Teresina. “Conceded. Fermat knows what will happen when an M.P. gets the bit between his teeth. But let’s take this law at face value. It’s supposed to guarantee that castaways of mixed sexes will reproduce, if at all possible. Really—” she felt herself blush again, but plowed stubbornly on—“do you think that has to be required?”

  “The law is also supposed to prevent degeneration by enforcing the greatest outbreeding. Well, after all! I mean, if a band of people are so stupid they can’t think of that for themselves, it doesn’t matter if they degenerate or not, does it? They don’t need to get all promiscuous in the first generation to take care of the genetic drift. All they have to do is regulate who their children and grandchildren marry, make marriage contracts between families. And that’s been common practice throughout human history. Our modern custom of leaving it entirely up to the individual is the statistical abnormality.”

  “Hm, yes,” said Marie. “I can also see that if there were several couples shipwrecked together, and they were supposed to change partners all the time, oui, the emotional tensions that could make would be more dangerous than any genetic problems!”

  “And then, that—” Teresina tried her Anglo-Saxon word again. It seemed to fit, so she let it stand and continued: “—about spreading civilization. Really! If a planet has no natives, it can wait till it’s discovered in the usual way. If it does have natives, can you imagine how much trouble a band of aliens like us, calmly filling their land with our own offspring, would make? The explorers who finally did arrive would probably find a full-fledged war waiting for them. In fact, what the law ought to do is forbid reproduction, till the castaways are sure there aren’t any aborigines!”

  She fell silent. The wind murmured and the forest talked in the night.

  Kamala said at last, “You are right, dear, it is a most ridiculous piece of legislation, and if I ever get home I shall certainly have my father introduce a bill to repeal it. But meanwhile—”

  “Meanwhile,” said Marie as Kamala’s voice trailed off, “we have the situation as it is. Forget about the law. We have one man, four women, and no chance of rescue. I am afraid we shall have to agree with what he wants.” Wryly: “As you say, the law it is not necessary at all.”

  “We don’t have to!” cried Teresina.

  Marie shrugged again. “I do not like M’sieur Newhouse very much. I will not fall into his arms at once. But sooner or later, eh, bien, I am a healthy animal myself. And so are you two.”

  “I am not!” Teresina stamped her foot.

  Kamala laughed. Teresina said awkwardly, “Well, I mean, I have some self-discipline.”

  “We all do, now,” said Marie. “A year from now? Two years? Five? I have perhaps seen a little more of the life than you, chérie. If nothing else, you will not deny yourself children. And it is true, the community will need those children fifty years from now. You must not be selfish.”

  “You can delay the inevitable for some months,” said Kamala. “During that time I shall instruct you in Inner Reform. These things will seem much less important then.”

  “Don’t you care?” choked Teresina.

  Kamala hesitated. “There is a young man, in Calcutta…I was going to come back to him in a year, and—No!” With more violence than her principles allowed: “Forget it! It is past!”

  “Cayley and Sylvester!” snarled Teresina. “If you had any will power whatsoever, you’d help me seize the boat! We could keep looking for a human settlement. Better die trying than give up to this, this cotton-candy planet!”

  “You forget,” said Marie, “the primary drive, she is sabotaged.”

  “Couldn’t we fix it?”

  “Not according to what Newhouse says. I have no knowledge of these matters, me. I could fly the boat in atmosphere, but I would not trust myself in space with it.”

  “What Newhouse says!” rasped Teresina. “How far would you trust that—that—”

  “Unintegrated personality,” suggested Kamala.

  “Cad!” said Teresina.

  “Same thing, really,” said Kamala.

  “We may as well trust in him,” said Marie. “He has such luck as never a man in all history. I would rather have a lucky man than a clever one.”

  “Luck—” Teresina stood as if smitten. Understanding was a thunderbolt.

  “All the improbabilities do seem to have operated in his favor,” agreed Kamala. “It implies that under his superficially superficial personality there lies some deep unconscious harmony with the All. Yes…yes, perhaps I have been unjust to him. I must get to know him better—”

  Teresina grabbed Marie’s hands. “Did you say you could fly the boat?” she yelled.

  “Yes. A little,” said the stewardess. “But what do you—you cannot—”

  “The hell I can’t!” Teresina whirled and started running downhill. “Come on!”

  “Qu’est-ce que c’est que ca?” gasped Marie. She stood an instant, then followed. “Kamala, help, she is gone dérangée!”

  Fred roused at the noise and lumbered to meet the girls. “What has happened?” he boomed. “Is anything wrong little ones?”

  “Fred—Fred—” Teresina collapsed shaking against his enormous chest. “Y-y-you don’t want to, to, to stay here do you?”

  “No. Naturally not. Granted, it is a peaceful scene, but I anticipate an increasing loneliness for my own species. Somehow this planet seems to be lacking in the large, varied, raucous, perspiring qualities of En Masse.”

  “Well, then, come on!” shrieked Teresina.

  Kamala reached her and tugged her arm. “Peace,” she urged. “Do be calm, darling. Now just take a long breath.”

  Marie seized her other arm. “Do you wish a sedative?” she asked.

  “I have been studying the recreational microfiles in the boat,” Fred rumbled on, “and have decided to take a course of music by Delius and poetry by James Whitcomb Riley.”

  Steps clanged in the airlock. Newhouse appeared, a pistol in his hand, Hedwig and Arsang behind him. “What is it?” called the man.

  “I fear poor Teresina has lost the self-control” said Marie.

  “What?” Newhouse hurried down the ladder. After a moment, Hedwig followed. Arsang slithered along, gave the tableau a disdainful look, and began explaining to Hedwig how much better things were regulated at the Prideful Court of H.A.R. Pipp XI.

  Newhouse pushed close. “What happened?” he said.

  “She began to shout and run,” answered Kamala. “The child is overwrought. Let me talk to her alone for a while and—”

  “It isn’t so!” wailed Teresina. The world trembled in her sight; the noise of her heart filled it with roaring. “The boat! You lied to us! The boat isn’t damaged at all!”

  “What?” Newhouse’s mouth fell open.

  “Listen,” babbled Teresina, “listen to me for just one minute!”

  Newhouse hefted his pistol. “I think she is hysterical,” he said. In the wan light, his face was drawn taut. “I’ll take her off myself for a chat. I know how to handle these cases.”

  “No, it is me who have the training,” said Marie.

  “I’m the captain here!” snapped Newhouse.

  Teresina looked at the gun in his fist. It was pointed squarely at her midriff. “Calm down, sweetheart,” Newhouse went on. “Be quiet. Relax.”

  “What is this about the boat?” asked Fred.

  “Nothing,” said Newhouse. “Nothing at all. Right?” He and his gun looked hard at Teresina.

  She never knew where the nerve came from. She kicked upward. Her foot struck his hand. The pistol went soaring off in an arc. Newhouse cursed and ran after it.

  Teresina scrambled for the boat. “Come on!” she screamed.

  Newhouse was on his hands and knees, casting about in the long, shadowed grass. Marie threw him a single look and scampered up the ladder. “Fred!” shouted Teresina. The Kefflachian snatched up Kamala and made it into the airlock in one jump.

  Teresina was still below. She saw Newhouse straighten, the pistol agleam in his grasp. She had no idea whether he would actually use it or not, but her inwards grew cold and lumpy. Then Fred reached down a monster-long arm and hauled her up. The outer airlock valve clashed shut behind her.

  She lay a moment gasping before she could say to Marie. “All right…go on to the turret…raise ship.”

  The stewardess looked at the closed valve, as if to watch the scene beyond. “But Hedwig and Arsang,” she said. “Alone with him—”

  “He won’t dare harm them now. If he ever really intended to.” Teresina sat up, shivering, hugging her knees. “They have all the supplies and tools and things. It won’t hurt them to wait a while.”

  Unexpectedly, Kamala grinned. “I cannot think of any three persons I would rather see stranded together,” she said.

  Sir John Baskerville, legal officer (as well as chief chemist, assistant medico, and Masonic lodgemaster) of Irene, only town on the planet Holmes, stared in astonishment at the beautiful blonde girl on the other side of his desk.

  “But this is fantastic!” he exclaimed. “How did you ever deduce it was a hoax?”

  “Oh, everything,” said Teresina Fabricant. “I mean the whole sabotage business did seem so unlikely. No one could think of a good reason for it. And so clumsy, too! Why not just put a bomb in the boat and make sure of us? And then the chances were so grossly against our finding a planet as good as this.”

  “Thank you,” bowed Sir John. “Frankly, we on Holmes agree, though our neighbors and friendly rivals on Watson—But continue.”

  “Newhouse, being the third officer, could have arranged lifeboat assignments any way he wanted, within limits,” said Teresina. “The original party in Fourteen was four young ladies, all unattached, and, well, at least he thought they were attractive. And then Fred, whose strength would be useful and who wouldn’t be a rival. Of course, Newhouse’s plans were somewhat thrown akilter. First Miss Trumbull traded places with a very cute redhead he had lined up for our boat. Then Arsang forced himself aboard. But that wasn’t too serious. He went ahead. It would have been easy for him to put a timer in the ship’s alarm circuit, one that would sound the bells when he wanted. He could also have cut off our boat’s communication circuit to the ship. He didn’t even have to put another timer in our release mechanism—just a thing he could claim was such a device. Naturally, he had to get rid of the navigation manual. Otherwise there wouldn’t have been any excuse not to go to a colony. He must have memorized the coordinates of this star and the orbital elements of this planet beforehand. All he had to do then was disable the radio and neutrino detector, land in the opposite hemisphere from your settlement, and pretend we were on an undiscovered world.”

  “Did you know where you were, before coming around to this side and seeing Watson in the sky?” asked Sir John.

  Teresina nodded bashfully. “I felt pretty sure of it. Once I suspected it was all a trick, I remembered having heard of a double planet in this neighborhood. And a companion of roughly equal mass is about all which could slow the rotation of a reasonably young world this much. I mean, the companions would always face each other. That accounted for the long day and night, and confirmed my suspicions.

  “Well, it followed from all this that the boat hadn’t really been sabotaged. And I couldn’t believe Newhouse had any intention of playing Robinson Crusoe forever. In a year or two or three, when he got bored, he’d pretend to have fixed the primary drive after all. Then he could discover with great astonishment that there had been a colony here all the time, that we never knew about.”

  “Or he might have taken you all off ‘looking’ for a colonial planet and ‘happened’ to find another,” nodded Sir John. “Jotunheim isn’t far away. Or he might simply have flown off, leaving all of you in the wilderness. A proper villain, Miss! We shall certainly see that he is punished, when we find him. Though I’m afraid, this planet is so big and our police force so small, it may take weeks to identify your camp.”

  “No matter.” Teresina smiled. “He can stay right where he is. I hope he enjoys every minute of it.”

  “He, ah, would have, if you hadn’t been so quick on the uptake,” said Sir John.

  Teresina blushed. “Yes. I mean, that was his whole intention. To live like a sultan, as long as he wished. And all quite legally, too.”

  “Why, what do you mean?”

  Teresina blushed still more furiously. “You know. That silly rule that castaways must, well, have children,”

  “Good heavens!” barked Sir John. “What are you talking about? I’m quite familiar with the statutes relating to space exploration, young lady, and I assure you there is not and never has been any such law!”

  HUNTER’S MOON

  We do not perceive reality, we conceive it. To suppose otherwise is to invite catastrophic surprises. The tragic nature of history stems in large from this endlessly recurrent mistake.

  —Oskar Haeml, Betrachtungen über die menschliche Verlegenheit

  Both suns were now down. The western mountains had become a wave of blackness, unstirring, as though the cold of Beyond had touched and frozen it even as it crested, a first sea barrier on the flightway to the Promise; but heaven stood purple above, bearing the earliest stars and two small moons, ocher edged with silvery crescents, like the Promise itself. Eastward, the sky remained blue. There, just over the ocean, Ruii was almost fully lighted, Its bands turned luminous across Its crimson glow. Beneath the glade that It cast, the waters shivered, wind made visible.

  A’i’ach felt the wind too, cool and murmurous. Each finest hair on his body responded. He needed but little thrust to hold his course, enough effort to give him a sense of his own strength and of being at one, in travel and destination, with his Swarm. Their globes surrounded him, palely iridescent, well-nigh hiding from him the ground over which they passed; he was among the highest up. Their lifescents overwhelmed all else which the air bore, sweet, heady, and they were singing together, hundreds of voices in chorus; so that their spirits might mingle and become Spirit, a foretaste of what awaited them in the far west. Tonight, when P’a crossed the face of Ruii, there would return the Shining Time. Already they rejoiced in the raptures ahead.

  A’i’ach alone did not sing, nor did he lose more than a part of himself in dreams of feast and love. He was too aware of what he carried. The thing that the human had fastened to him weighed very little, but what it was putting into his soul was heavy and harsh. The whole Swarm knew about the dangers of attack, of course, and many clutched weapons—stones to drop or sharp-pointed branches shed by ü trees—in the tendrils that streamed under their globes. A’i’ach had a steel knife, his price for letting the human burden him. Yet it was not in the nature of the People to dread what might sink down upon them out of the future. A’i’ach was strangely changed by that which went on inside him.

  The knowledge had come, he knew not how, slowly enough that he was not astonished by it. Instead, a grimness had meanwhile congealed. Somewhere in those hills and forests, a Beast ran that bore the same thing he did, that was also in ghostly Swarmtouch with a human. He could not guess what this might portend, save trouble of some kind for the People. He might well be unwise to ask. Therefore he had come to a resolve he realized was alien to his race: he would end the menace.

  Since his eyes were set low on his body, he could not see the object secured on top, nor the radiance beaming upward from it. His companions could, though, and he had gotten a demonstration before he agreed to carry it. The beam was faint, faint, visible only at night and then only against a dark background. He would look for a shimmer among shadows on the land. Sooner or later, he would come upon it. The chance was not bad now at this, the Shining Time, when the Beasts would seek to kill People they knew would be gathered in vast numbers to revel.

  A’i’ach had wanted the knife as a curiosity of possible usefulness. He meant to keep it in the boughs of a tree; when the mood struck him, he would experiment with it. A Person did once in a while employ a chance-found object, such as a sharp pebble, for some fleeting purpose, such as scooping open a crestflower pod to release its delicious seedlets upon the air. Perhaps with a knife he could shape wood into tools and have a stock of them always ready.

  Given his new insight, A’i’ach saw what the blade was truly for. He could smite from above till a Beast was dead—no, the Beast.

  A’i’ach was hunting.

  Several hours before sundown, Hugh Brocket and his wife, Jannika Rezek, had been preparing for their night’s work when Chrisoula Gryparis arrived, much overdue. A storm had first grounded aircraft at Enrique and then, perversely moving west, forced her into a long detour on her way to Hansonia. She didn’t even see the Ring Ocean until she had traversed a good thousand kilometers of mainland, whereafter she must bend southward an equal distance to reach the big island.