chair.
Ninon watched him with envious eyes, waiting until he was fully alert.
"Robert!" she said, and the youth paused at the sharpness of her voice."How old are you?"
"I've told you before, darling--twenty-four."
"How old do you think I am?"
He gazed at her in silent curiosity for a moment, then said, "Come tothink of it, you've never told me. About twenty-two or -three, I'd say."
"Tomorrow is my birthday. I'll be fifty-two."
He stared at her in shocked amazement. Then, as his gaze went over thesmooth lines of her body, the amazement gave way to disbelief, and hechuckled. "The way you said it, Ninon, almost had me believing you. Youcan't possibly be that old, or anywhere near it. You're joking."
Ninon's voice was cold. She repeated it: "I am fifty-two years old. Iknew your father, before you were born."
This time she could see that he believed it. The horror he felt was easyto read on his face while he struggled to speak. "Then ... God helpme ... I've been making love to ... an old woman!" His voice was low,bitter, accusing.
Ninon slapped him.
He swayed slightly, then his features froze as the red marks of herfingers traced across his left cheek. At last he bowed, mockingly, andsaid, "Your pardon, Madame. I forgot myself. My father taught me to berespectful to my elders."
For that Ninon could have killed him. As he turned to leave, her handsought the tiny, feather-light beta-gun cunningly concealed in the foldsof her gown. But the driving force of her desire made her stay her hand.
"Robert!" she said in peremptory tones.
The youth paused at the door and glanced back, making no effort toconceal the loathing she had aroused in him. "What do you want?"
Ninon said, "You'll never make that flight without me.... Watch!"
Swiftly she pushed buttons again. The room darkened, as before. Curtainsat one end divided and rustled back, and a glowing screen sprang to lifeon the wall revealed behind them. And there, in life and movement andcolor and sound and dimension, she--and Robert--projected themselves,together on the couch, beginning at the moment Ninon had pressed thethree buttons earlier. Robert's arms were around her, his face buried inthe hair falling over her shoulders....
The spaceman's voice was doubly bitter in the darkened room. "So that'sit," he said. "A recording! Another one for your collection, I suppose.But of what use is it to you? I have neither money nor power. I'll begone from this Earth in an hour. And you'll be gone from it,permanently--at your age--before I get back. I have nothing to lose, andyou have nothing to gain."
Venomous with triumph, Ninon's voice was harsh even to her ears. "On thecontrary, my proud and impetuous young spaceman, I have much to gain,more than you could ever understand. When it was announced that you wereto be trained to command this experimental flight I made it my businessto find out everything possible about you. One other man is going. Hetoo has had the same training, and could take over in your place. Athird man has also been trained, to stand by in reserve. You aresupposed to have rested and slept the entire night. If the Commandant ofSpace Research knew that you had not...."
"I see. That's why you recorded my visit tonight. But I leave in lessthan an hour. You'd never be able to tell Commander Pritchard in time tomake any difference, and he'd never come here to see...."
Ninon laughed mirthlessly, and pressed buttons again. The screenchanged, went blank for a moment, then figures appeared again. On thecouch were she and a man, middle-aged, dignified in appearance,uniformed. Blane Pritchard, Commandant of Space Research. His arms werearound her, and his face was buried in her hair. She let the recordingrun for a moment, then shut it off and turned up the lights.
To Robert, she said, "I think Commander Pritchard would be here in fiveminutes if I called and told him that I have information which seriouslyaffects the success of the flight."
The young spaceman's face was white and stricken as he stared for longmoments, wordless, at Ninon. Then in defeated tones he said, "Youscheming witch! What do you want?"
There was no time to gloat over her victory. That would come later.Right now minutes counted. She snatched up a cloak, pushed Robert outthrough the door and hurried him along the hall and out into the streetwhere his car waited.
"We must hurry," she said breathlessly. "We can get to the spaceshipahead of schedule, before your flight partner arrives, and be gone fromEarth before anyone knows what is happening. I'll be with you, in hisplace."
Robert did not offer to help her into the car, but got in first andwaited until she closed the door behind her, then sped away from thecurb and through the streets to the spaceport.
Ninon said, "Tell me, Robert, isn't it true that if a clock recedes fromEarth at the speed of light, and if we could watch it as it did so, itwould still be running but it would never show later time?"
The young man said gruffly, "Roughly so, according to theory."
"And if the clock went away from Earth faster than the speed of light,wouldn't it run backwards?"
The answer was curtly cautious. "It might appear to."
"Then if people travel at the speed of light they won't get any older?"
Robert flicked a curious glance at her. "If you could watch them fromEarth they appear not to. But it's a matter of relativity...."
Ninon rushed on. She had studied that book carefully. "And if peopletravel faster than light, a lot faster, they'll grow younger, won'tthey?"
Robert said, "So that's what's in your mind." He busied himself withparking the car at the spaceport, then went on: "You want to go back inthe past thirty years, and be a girl again. While I grow younger, too,into a boy, then a child, a baby, at last nothing...."
"I'll try to be sorry for you, Robert."
Ninon felt again for her beta-gun as he stared at her for a long minute,his gaze a curious mixture of amusement and pity. Then, "Come on," hesaid flatly, turning to lead the way to the gleaming space ship whichpoised, towering like a spire, in the center of the blast-off basin. Andadded, "I think I shall enjoy this trip, Madame, more than you will."
The young man's words seemed to imply a secret knowledge that Ninon didnot possess. A sudden chill of apprehension rippled through her, andalmost she turned back. But no ... there was the ship! There was youth;and beauty; and the admiration of men, real admiration. Suppleness inher muscles and joints again. No more diets. No more transfusions. Nomore transplantations. No more the bio-knife. She could smile again, orfrown again. And after a few years she could make the trip again ... andagain....
* * * * *
The space ship stood on fiery tiptoes and leaped from Earth, high intothe heavens, and out and away. Past rusted Mars. Past the busyasteroids. Past the sleeping giants, Jupiter and Saturn. Past paleUranus and Neptune; and frigid, shivering Pluto. Past a senseless,flaming comet rushing inward towards its rendezvous with the Sun. And onout of the System into the steely blackness of space where the starswere hard, burnished points of light, unwinking, motionless; eyes--eyesstaring at the ship, staring through the ports at Ninon where she lay,stiff and bruised and sore, in the contoured acceleration sling.
The yammering rockets cut off, and the ship seemed to poise on the ebonlip of a vast Stygian abyss.
Joints creaking, muscles protesting, Ninon pushed herself up and out ofthe sling against the artificial gravity of the ship. Robert was alreadyseated at the controls.
"How fast are we going?" she asked; and her voice was rusty and harsh.
"Barely crawling, astronomically," he said shortly. "About forty-sixthousand miles a minute."
"Is that as fast as the speed of light?"
"Hardly, Madame," he said, with a condescending chuckle.
"Then make it go faster!" she screamed. "And faster and faster--hurry!What are we waiting for?"
The young spaceman swivelled about in his seat. He looked haggard anddrawn from the strain of the long acceleration. Despite herself, Ninoncould feel the sagging in her own face; th
e sunkenness of her eyes. Shefelt tired, hating herself for it--hating having this young man seeher.
He said, "The ship is on automatic control throughout. The course isplotted in advance; all operations are plotted. There is nothing we cando but wait. The light drive will cut in at the planned time."
"Time! Wait! That's all I hear!" Ninon shrieked. "Do something!"
Then she heard it. A low moan, starting from below the limit ofaudibility, then climbing, up and up and up and up, until it was anerve-plucking whine that tore into her brain like a white-hot tuningfork. And still it climbed, up beyond the range of hearing, and up andup still more,
Time and the Woman Page 2
