Part 18 (2/2)
”Wha-a-at?”
”Of course. Had I insisted from the first, before we took off, Gimma would have given. . .”
”Come on now! How were you to know that it was his radio that would go? It could have been something else.”
”Could have been, could have been. But it was the radio.”
”Hold on. And you walked around with this inside you for six years and never said a word?”
”What was there to say? I thought it was obvious; wasn't it?”
”Obvious! Ye G.o.ds! What are you saying, man? Come to your senses! Had you said that, any one of us would have thought you crazy. And when Ennesson's beam went out of focus, was that your fault, too? Well?”
”No. He. . . that can happen. . .”
”I know it can. Don't worry, I know as much as you. Hal, I won't have any peace until you tell me. . .”
”What now?”
”That you are imagining things. This is complete nonsense. Arder himself would tell you so, if he were here.”
”Thanks.”
”Hal, I have a mind to. . .”
”Remember, I'm heavier.”
”But I am angrier, you understand? Idiot!”
”Olaf, don't yell. We aren't alone here.”
”All right. OK. Well, was it nonsense or not?” .
”No.”
Olaf inhaled until his nostrils went white.
”Why not?” he asked almost genially.
”Because, even before that, I had noticed Gimma's. . . tight-fistedness. It was my duty to foresee what might happen and confront Gimma immediately -- and not when I returned with Arder's obituary. I was too soft. That is why not.”
”I see. Yes. You were too soft. . . No! I. . . Hal! I can't. I'm leaving.”
He got up from the table abruptly; so did I.
”Are you crazy?” I cried. ”He's leaving! All because. . .”
”Yes. Yes. Do I have to listen to your fantasies? No, thank you. Arder didn't reply?”
”Leave it be.”
”He didn't reply, right?”
”He didn't reply.”
”Could he have had a corona?”
I was silent.
”Could he have had any of a thousand other kinds of accidents? Or did he enter an echo belt? Did it kill his signal when he lost contact in the turbulence? Or did his emitters demagnetize above a sunspot and. . . ?”
”Enough.”
”You won't admit I'm right? You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”
”I didn't say anything.”
”True. Well, then, could any of the things I said have happened?”
”Yes.”
”Then why do you insist that it was the radio, the radio and nothing else, only the radio?”
”You may be right,” I said. I felt terribly tired, I no longer cared.
”You may be right,” I repeated. ”The radio. . . it was simply the most likely thing. . . No. Don't say anything else. We've already talked about it ten times more than was necessary.”
Olaf walked up to me.
”Bregg,” he said, ”you poor old soldier. . . you have too much good in you, you know that?”
”What good?”
”A sense of responsibility. There should be moderation in everything. What do you intend to do?”
”About what?”
”You know.”
”I have no idea.”
”It's bad, is it?”
”Couldn't be worse.”
”How about going away with me? Or somewhere -- alone. If you like, I can help you arrange it. I can take your things or you can leave them, or. . .”
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