Part 3 (1/2)

Serena felt a flutter of wonder. Maybe-maybe this is what the war was over.Maybe they just wanted salt. A world to them. Maybe- ”Salt, shreeprill,” she said. ”More, more more shreeprill, Linjeni gohome?”

”More more more shreeprill, yes,” said Mrs. Pink. ”Go home, no. No home.Home no good. No water, no shreeprill.”

”Oh,” said Serena. Then thoughtfully, ”More Linjeni? More, more, more?”

Mrs. Pink looked at Serena and in the sudden silence the realization that they were, after all, members of enemy camps flared between them. Serena triedto smile. Mrs. Pink looked over at Splinter and Doovie who were happilysampling everything in the picnic basket. Mrs. Pink relaxed, and then shesaid, ”No more Linjeni.” She gestured toward the crowded landing field.”Linjeni.” She pressed her hands, palm to palm, her shoulders sagging. ”Nomore Linjeni.”

Serena sat dazed, thinking what this would mean to Earth's High Command. Nomore Linjeni of the terrible, devastating weapons. No more than those that hadlanded-no waiting alien world ready to send reinforcements when these s.h.i.+pswere gone. When these were gone-no more Linjeni. All that Earth had to do nowwas wipe out these s.h.i.+ps, taking the heavy losses that would be inevitable,and they would win the war- and wipe out a race.

The Linjeni must have come seeking asylum-or demanding it. Neighbors whowere afraid to ask-or hadn't been given time to ask. How had the war started?Who fired upon whom? Did anyone know?

Serena took uncertainty home with her, along with the empty picnic basket.Tell, tell, tell, whispered her feet through the gra.s.s up the hill. Tell andthe war will end. But how? she cried out to herself. By wiping them out orgiving them a home? Which? Which?

Kill, kill, kill grated her feet across the graveled patio edge. Kill thealiens-no common ground-not human -all our hallowed dead.

But what about their hallowed dead? All falling, the flaming s.h.i.+ps-thehomeseekers-the dispossessed-the childless?

Serena settled Splinter with a new puzzle and a picture book and went intothe bedroom. She sat on the bed and stared at herself in the mirror.

But give them salt water and they'll increase-all our oceans, even if theysaid they didn't want them. Increase and increase and take the world-push usout -trespa.s.s-oppress- But their men-our men. They've been meeting for over a week and can'tagree. Of course they can't! They're afraid of betraying themselves to eachother. Neither knows anything about the other, really. They aren't trying tofind out anything really important. I'll bet not one of our men know theLinjeni can close their noses and fold their ears. And not one of the Linjeniknows we sprinkle their life on our food.

Serena had no idea how long she sat there, but Splinter finally found herand insisted on supper and then Serena insisted on bed for him.

She was nearly mad with indecision when Thorn finally got home.

”Well,” he said, dropping wearily into his chair. ”It's almost over.”

”Over!” cried Serena, hope flaring, ”Then you've reached-”

”Stalemate, impa.s.se,” said Thorn heavily. ”Our meeting tomorrow is thelast. One final 'no' from each side and it's over. Back to bloodletting.”

”Oh, Thorn, no!” Serena pressed her clenched fist to her mouth. ”We can'tkill any more of them! It's inhuman-it's-”

”It's self-defense,” Thorn's voice was sharp with exasperated displeasure.”Please, not tonight, Rena. Spare me your idealistic ideas. Heaven knows we'reinexperienced enough in warlike negotiations without having to cope withsuggestions that we make cute pets out of our enemies. We're in a war andwe've got it to win. Let the Linjeni get a wedge in and they'll swarm theEarth like flies!”

”No, no!” whispered Serena, her own secret fears sending the tears floodingdown her face. ”They wouldn't! They wouldn't! Would they?”

Long after Thorn's sleeping breath whispered in the darkness beside her,she lay awake, staring at the invisible ceiling. Carefully she put the wordsup before her on the slate of the darkness.

Tell-the war will end.

Either we will help the Linjeni-or wipe them out. Don't tell. Theconference will break up. The war will goon.

We will have heavy losses-and wipe the Linjeni out.

Mrs. Pink trusted me.

Splinter loves Doovie. Doovie loves him.

Then the little candle flame of prayer that had so nearly burned out in hertorment flared brightly again and she slept.

Next morning she sent Splinter to play with Doovie. ”Play by the goldfishpond,” she said. ”I'll be along soon.”

”Okay, Mommie,” said Splinter. ”Will you bring some cake?” Slyly, ”Doovieisn't a-miliar with cake.”

Serena laughed. ”A certain little Splinter is a-miliar with cake, though!You run along, greedy!” And she boosted him out of the door with a slap on the rear.

” 'By, Mommie,” he called back.

” 'By, dear. Be good.”

”I will.”

Serena watched until he disappeared down the slope of the hill, then shesmoothed her hair and ran her tongue over her lips. She started for thebedroom, but turned suddenly and went to the front door. If she had to face even her own eyes, her resolution would waver and dissolve. She stood, hand onk.n.o.b, watching the clock inch around until an interminable fifteen minutes hadpa.s.sed-Splinter safely gone-then she s.n.a.t.c.hed the door open and left.

Her smile took her out of the Quarters Area to the Administration Building.Her brisk a.s.sumption of authority and destination took her to the conferencewing and there her courage failed her. She. lurked out of sight of the guards,almost wringing her hands in indecision. Then she straightened the set of herskirt, smoothed her hair, dredged a smile up from some hidden source ofstrength, and tiptoed out into the hall.

She felt like a b.u.t.terfly pinned to the wall by the instant unwinkingattention of the guards. She gestured silence with a finger to her lips andtiptoed up to them.

”h.e.l.lo, Turner. Hi, Franiveri,” she whispered.

The two exchanged looks and Turner said hoa.r.s.ely, ”You aren't supposed tobe here, ma'am. Better go.”

”I know I'm not,” she said, looking guilty-with no effort at all. ”b.u.t.turner, I-I just want to see a Linjeni.” She hurried on before Turner's openmouth could form a word. ”Oh, I've seen pictures of them, but I'd like awfullyto see a real one. Can't I have even one little peek?” She slipped closer tothe door. ”Look!” she cried softly, ”It's even ajar a little already!”

”Supposed to be,” rasped Turner. ”Orders. But ma'am, we can't-””Just one peek?” she pleaded, putting her 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 k.n.o.b, the little b.u.t.ton.

”But ma'am, you couldn't see 'em from here anyway.”

Quicker than thought, Serena jerked the door open and darted in, pus.h.i.+ngthe little b.u.t.ton 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 s.h.i.+ning 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 pair of earphones were pushed into her hands. She adjusted them with tremblingfingers. Why were they letting her talk? Why was General Worsham sitting thereletting 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 spokeagain and the metallic murmur of the earphones gave her the translation. ”Whatis the color of Doovie's mother?”

”Pink,” said Serena.