Part 17 (2/2)
”d.a.m.n them,” he said.
”Save it for a better occasion. . . .”
He gave a sour smile.
”Hal!”
”What?”
”You know what it was like? A set in a movie studio. Romans, courtesans, and gladiators.”
”We were the gladiators?”
”Exactly.”
”Shall we run?” I said.
”Let's go.”
We went over the fields. It was about eight kilometers. But we ended up too far to the right and had to double back a little. Even so, we had time to take a bath before lunch.
FIVE.
I knocked on Olaf's door.
”If I know you, come on in,” I heard him call.
He stood naked in the middle of the room and was spraying himself, from the flask that he held, with a pale yellow fluid that immediately set to form a fluffy ma.s.s.
”Liquid underwear?” I said. ”How can you?”
”I didn't bring a spare s.h.i.+rt,” he muttered. ”You don't care for it?”
”No. You do?”
”My s.h.i.+rt got torn.”
At my look of surprise, he added with a grimace: ”The guy who grinned.”
I did not say another word. He put on his old trousers -- I remembered them, from the Prometheus -- and we went downstairs. Only three places were set, and no one was in the dining room.
”There will be four of us,” I addressed the white robot.
”No, sir. Mr. Marger has gone. The lady, yourself, and Mr. Staave make three. Shall I serve, or wait for the lady?”
”We'll wait,” Olaf replied carelessly.
A terrific fellow. Just then, the girl entered. She had on the same skirt as the day before; her hair was a little damp, as if she had come from the water. I introduced Olaf to her; he was calm and dignified. I had never managed to be that dignified.
We talked a little. She said that every week her husband had to go away for three days in connection with his work, and that the water in the pool was not so warm as it could have been, despite the sun. But the conversation quickly died, and, try as I might, I could think of nothing to say. I ate in silence, with their sharply contrasting profiles before me. I noticed that Olaf was studying her, but only when I spoke to her and she looked in my direction. His face was without expression. As if he was thinking the whole time of something else.
Toward the end of the meal, the white robot approached and said that the water in the pool would be heated for the evening, in accordance with Mrs. Marger's wishes. Mrs. Marger thanked it and went to her room. The two of us were alone. Olaf looked at me, and again I reddened terribly.
”How is it,” he said, putting to his lips the cigarette I had given him, ”that a customer who could crawl into that stinking hole on Kereneia, an old s.p.a.ce dog -- an old rhinoceros, rather, a hundred and fifty -- now starts to. . . ?”
”Please,” I muttered, ”if you really want to know, I'd crawl in there again. . .”
I didn't finish.
”All right. I'll stop. Word of honor. But, Hal, I have to say this: I understand you. And I'll bet you don't even know why. . .”
I pointed my head in the direction in which she had gone.
”Why her?”
”Yes. Do you know?”
”No. And neither do you.”
”But I do. Shall I tell you?”
”Yes. But without your jokes.”
”You really have gone crazy!” exclaimed Olaf. ”It is very simple. But you always did have that fault -- you didn't see what was under your nose, only what was far removed, those Cantors, Corbasileuses. . .”
”Don't preen.”
”The style is soph.o.m.oric, I know, but our development was halted when they put those six hundred and eighty screws on us.”
”Go on.”
”She is exactly like a girl from our time. Doesn't have that red rubbish in her nose or those plates on her ears, and no s.h.i.+ning cotton on her head; she doesn't drip with gold; she's a girl you could have met in Ceberto or Apprenous. I remember some just like her. That's all.”
”I'll be d.a.m.ned,” I said quietly. ”Yes. Yes, but there is one difference.”
”Well?”
”I told you already. At the very beginning. I never behaved like this before. And, to be perfectly honest, I never imagined myself. . . I thought I was the quiet type.”
”Really, it's a shame I didn't take your picture when you came out of that hole on Kereneia. Then you could see what a quiet type you are. Man, I thought that you. . . Never mind!”
”Let's stow Kereneia, its caves and all of that,” I said. ”You know, Olaf, before I came here I went to a doctor, Juffon is his name, a very likable character. Over eighty, but. . .”
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