Specimen Days

Emory said to the others, "We seem to have acquired a couple of new members. It is my great honor to introduce Simon and Luke and to express my hope that they will accept my invitation to accompany us all on our journey to Paumanok."

There was scattered applause and a general murmur of greeting. In truth, Simon did not find the company especially promising. The humans were for the most part rather seedy-looking. One woman (she would prove to be the Ruth who was having trouble with the launch coordinates) was sallow and overweight, wearing a battered sun hat and what appeared to be strands of little silver bells around her neck. Another, a man of indeterminate age with a great rust-colored curl of mustache and a chin slightly smaller than an apricot, bobbled his big square head and said, "Welcome, friends, welcome, friends, welcome, friends." The Nadians were more restrained in their dress and their vocabulary of gestures, but they, too, seemed to possess some vague aspect of off-centeredness. The two females were grim and silent. The males, three of them, had an overeager look uncommon among Nadians. They sat together, whispered among themselves, and broke into occasional fits of high-pitched laughter, during which they pounded one another on their scrawny backs and slapped their slender palms together.

These, then, were the pilgrims. These were the emissaries to a new world.

Midway through the meal, Luke leaned over and whispered to Simon, "Geekville, U.S.A."

"Shh," Simon said. He returned his attention to the person seated on his left, a young dark-skinned human scientist named Lily, who had dyed her hair orange and had runes of some kind tattooed onto her cheeks and forehead and did not seem to understand that listening to an unbroken monologue about lift hydraulics in deep space might not be Simon's idea of an interesting way to spend his entire dinner.

When the meal was over, the adults resumed their work, and the children scattered across the farmyard. Simon and Luke lingered at the table with Emory, Othea, and the baby.

Emory said, "They're a little strange, I know. They have good hearts, though."

"I'm sure they do," Simon answered.

"I had twice this many when I started. But people come to their senses. They find other things to do. They fall in love with someone who doesn't want to leave Earth forever."

Luke said, "You really want us to come along?"

"There's room. And Simon, I hope you won't be offended if I say that someone as young as Luke would be particularly welcome. The adults who survive the trip at all will be quite old by the time we land on Paumanok."

The infant gurgled on Othea's lap. She rocked the child with a certain insistence Simon recognized as distinctly Nadian. She said, "We need the most diverse possible gene pool among our younger members."

Luke said, "So basically you're interested in my youth andDNA."

"You're Exedrol, right?" Othea asked. "Yep."

"The deformities are not passed along genetically. Did you know that?"

"Uh-huh."

Simon said, "I too haughty Shade also sing war, and a longer and greater one than any." He had not meant to speak quite so loudly.

"She doesn't mean to offend," Emory said. "Do you, Oth? Nadians are a little more direct than we are is all."

"I just can't seem to get the knack of circumspection," Othea replied, continuing to rock her child with an urgency Simon could only hope would not be damaging in some long-range, unforeseeable way. "At a certain point I simply decided to give it up altogether."

"I find it extremely interesting," Emory said to Simon, "that you take offense so easily. It's not in your programming."

"My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach," Simon said.

"As a matter of fact," Luke said, "being wanted for my youth and my DNA doesn't bother me at all. In case anybody cares what I think."

"Everybody cares what you think," Simon said.

Luke said to Emory, "He doesn't have any particular allegiance to the truth. Do you find that peculiar?"

"Very," Emory answered.

"Please don't talk about me as if I'm not here," Simon said.

"You're really making great progress," Emory told him.

"Fuck you."

"See? See what I mean?"

* * *

Later, Simon sat with Catareen in her upstairs room. Emory and Othea had returned to their work. Luke had joined the children in their farmyard games. Simon could tell from their voices that Luke had introduced certain improvements and refinements and was patiently explaining why such changes were necessary.

Catareen was asleep. Or doing that sleeplike thing.

Simon said to her, "They're nuts, you know. The whole crew."

She opened her eyes. She said, "You go with them."

"I don't know. I mean, can you picture being on a spaceship for thirty-eight years with these people?"

"You go. Happier there."

"Why are you saying this?"

"I dream."

"What?"

"That world. I dream."

"What have you dreamed?"

"You go to mountains. Changed. As you want."

"You've dreamed of me changed, walking in some kind of mountains?"

"Yes."

"Have you had a dream like that before?"

"No."