Specimen Days

Crazy, Simon thought. They're all crazy. Though of course the passengers on the Mayflower had probably been like this, too: zealots and oddballs and ne'er-do-wells, setting out to colonize a new world because the known world wasn't much interested in their furtive and quirky passions. It had probably always been thus, not only aboard the Mayflower but on the Viking ships; on the Ninafinta, and Santa Maria; on the first convoys sent off to explore Nadia, about which the people of Earth had harbored such extravagant hopes. It was nut jobs. It was hysterics and visionaries and petty criminals. The odes and monuments, the plaques and pageants, came later.

Simon could not settle. He could not find a plausible spot for himself. After meandering from place to place, trying to stay out of the way, trying not to look as idle as he was, he ran into Othea coming out of the barn. He spoke to her, though he knew she wouldn't welcome it. It was something for him to do. And he did, in fact, have a question or two only she could answer.

He said, "Catareen is pretty weak today."

"Yes," she answered impatiently. He suspected she would have brushed him off entirely had he broached any other subject.

"Is there any chance she could rally? I mean, could she still have a good period before"

"No. There are no remissions. Some take longer than others, and frankly I suspect she could hang on for quite a while still. The more resilient individuals can take weeks and weeks."

"We've decided we want to come along." "Good. Now, if you'll excuse me"

"Catareen will need a bed," Simon said. "Maybe I could go aboard with one of the technicians and figure out the best way to make her comfortable."

"Oh, she can't come with us." "What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry. I'd assumed you understood. Our space is limited. We anticipate some mortality en route, and we've tried to allow for that. But we can't carry a dead body for thirty-eight years. I'm afraid it's out of the question."

"You mean to leave her here, then."

"In a short while, she won't even know where she is. She wouldn't be eating anymore, under any circumstances. We'll leave water for her on the off chance, but I doubt she'll want that, either."

"You'll let her die alone."

"It will mean something different for her from what it might mean to you. Nourtheans are more solitary. She'll be all right. Believe me."

"Sure."

"Now you really must excuse me. You can't imagine what all I've got to do."

"Of course."

She hurried toward the house.

* * *

The day passed. Luke finally appeared, riding the horse with Twyla. He seemed to have joined the children in some way that implied membership without trust or affection. Simon saw them approaching from beyond the house. Luke sat behind Twyla like a boy pharaoh, regal and indignant-looking, as the smaller children capered in the horse's wake. Twyla reined the horse in Simon's direction, brought it to a halt just shy of the place where he stood. The horse blinked and shook its head. It made a low snorting noise that sounded vaguely like the word "hunk" played on an oboe.

Twyla said to Simon, "Do you like horses?" "Who doesn't?" he said.

"It seems that there will be no horses in the new world."

Right, she was crazy, too. Still, she had her own version of Catareen's lambent lizard eyes and nervous, undulating nostrils. Her gaze made Simon's circuits buzz.

He said, "Maybe there are horses there already."

"I will never love a horse other than Hesperia," Twyla announced. "Not on any planet."

"Give me a break," Luke said.

"I'm not sure what you mean by that."

"What I mean is, it's just an animal"

Twyla reined the horse around and kicked it into motion again. As they departed, followed by the other children, Simon could hear Twyla saying to Luke, "You have a great deal to learn about the kingdom of animals. They are as various as any other race of beings."

"They're food. Any being that can't open a bottle or loan you money is by definition…"

Simon watched them ride away. He understood that they would be carrying on this conversation together for the next eighty years or more. He wondered if Othea already had Luke in mind for Twyla. He wondered if they would have children.

He said a silent goodbye to Luke. He wished him luck.

* * *

Finally he returned to Catareen's room. There was nowhere else for him. He felt calmer there. It was the one place in which he seemed to be something other than a tourist.