Part 38 (1/2)

Tamme Two dodged again, reducing the effect of the blow, and blocked the clasping arms. Tamme was already dropping down through the cubes -- but her hold was not tight, and Tamme Two slipped through. The double suicide would only kill one.

This time Tamme Two let her go, knowing better than to come again within reach of those arms. Instead, she drew and threw a fine knife. It shot straight down with unerring aim to embed itself in Tamme's skull, penetrating the brain.

”I am going to s.p.a.ce,” he said.

”If you do, I will kill myself,” she said.

Bunny heard her parents engaging in their solemn, serious dialogue, terrified. Knowing there was nothing she could do. They never fought, never argued; when either spoke, it was final.

Actually, they had never spoken these words; the words were in Bunny's mind, her nightmares. But they reflected the unvoiced reality, building over the years into inevitable decision.

Her father went to s.p.a.ce, unable to resist the gratification of a lifelong lure. Ocean sailing was in his ancestry; the nature of the challenge had changed, not his response.

Bunny understood this, for he had told her of s.p.a.ce, its myriad wonders only now being revealed, its compelling fascination. Neutron stars, black holes, quasars; alien life, mysterious artifacts of long-dead empires; acceleration, free fall; meteors, comets, craters. She wanted to go, too.

The day he left, her mother carefully sc.r.a.ped the insulation from the apartment's energy line and shorted it out across her body. Bunny was an orphan.

”I know your father was lost in s.p.a.ce, and your mother died when you were a child,” he said. ”This is what first attracted me to you. You needed me, and I thought that was enough.” He paused to walk around park s.p.a.ce, idly knocking his powerful hands together. ”I'm strong; I like taking care of things. I wanted to take care of you. But Bunny, it isn't enough. Now I'm ready to marry -- and what I crave is a wife figure, not a daughter figure. It just wouldn't work out, and we both know it.”

She did know it. She didn't plead, she didn't cry. After he left, she followed the model she remembered as closely as was convenient. She jumped off the pa.s.senger ramp into the moving line of a major freight artery.

”Both arms severed at the shoulders, one leg mangled, internal organs crushed. Heart and liver salvageable; kidneys unsalvageable. Brain intact. It would cost a fortune, but we could reconst.i.tute her. To what point? she is medically indigent, no parents, no insurance, no special dispensations, no extraordinary talents, and she obviously doesn't want to live.”

”A suitable prospect, would you say?”

”Yes. You would be doing her a favor. She doesn't want to remember.”

”Very well, You will authorize the condemnation procedure?”

”I don't see much choice; it's that or death in hours.”

So Bunny's mangled but living remains were condemned as legally unsalvageable, and the government a.s.sumed possession in much the same manner as it acquired the right of way through a slum.

Two years later, the rebuilt, retrained body and brain were issued under the stamp of an agent, series TA, female.

Tamme opened her eyes. A snout-nosed near-human leaned over her. ”Hvehg!” the woman called.

A man came, bearded, putting his strong hand on hers. It was a hand very like that of the man Bunny had hoped to marry. ”You'll make it, Tam,” he said. ”We're taking good care of you.”

”Who?” It was hard to speak; she was weak and confused, and she needed... too much. He would reject her if he knew.

”You don't remember who you are?” the man asked, alarmed.

She made an effort. ”I am TA. You?”

”You don't remember me?” This seemed to bother him even more.