The Cold Equations

by Tom Godwin

  He watched the two go into the cabin—into Lyla's half—and Narf slammed the door shut behind them. There followed the quick bang of windows being closed, and then Narf's muffled tirade began: " . . . May think I'm a fool . . . I'm going to tell you a few things . . ."

  Sonig was still standing within his doorway. Hunter knew, without seeing it, that the thin-lipped smile would be on Sonig's face.

  He turned and walked back to his own cabin. There was nothing he could do but withdraw—and listen from a distance and be ready to act if it seemed she was in danger.

  He sat on his doorstep in the darkness, hearing occasional phrases in Narf's unrelenting abuse. One was: "So prim you had to countermand my order for a key to that lock—then you went out to play with that second lieutenant . . ."

  Alonzo materialized out of the darkness, coming as silently as a shadow. He was no longer the bumbling clown. The idiotic grin was gone and his eyes were green fire, slanted and catlike, his teeth flashing white in a snarl as he looked back toward the sound of Narf's voice.

  "She are my Princess Ryra," Alonzo said. "He are cursing her. If he ever hurt her, I wirr tear out his throat and his river."

  "He won't hurt her, Alonzo," Hunter said, wishing he could be sure. "He'll only use words on her."

  "He never ask her why she run away—he onry curse her and threaten her because she embarrass him."

  "Embarrass him?"

  "He and Sonig, they see you coming out of the forest with your arm around her. They watch with high-power grasses."

  "But there was nothing wrong in that—"

  "That are what Princess Ryra say. She say you onry put your arm around her because she are stirr scared of the tigers. And then he say, what about the other? And he cawr her awrful bad names."

  "What other?"

  "Oh, when you are bending down to kiss Princess Ryra and are wawrking into tree."

  He gulped. "They saw that?"

  "Oh, sure. Rord Narf are so mad he want to kirr you right then but Sonig say, 'Wait, I have a pran.' Then Sonig say, 'It are too bad we don't have a camera—we could have made that rootenant the raffing stock of forty worlds.' "

  The thought made Hunter gulp again.

  "What was Sonig's plan that Narf told Lyla about?" he asked.

  "Oh, he not terr her. I hear Sonig terr Rord Narf when I spy. Sonig say, 'Tomorrow we be friendry and we ret those two go for another wawrk in the woods. And we have cameras with terescope lens and when they kiss and hug we take moving pictures.' "

  "Why, the gutter-bred rat—"

  "And Rord Narf say, 'That is what we wirr do. And then I wirr kirr him as soon as we have the pictures and she wirr have to toe the mark from then on because if I pubricry show the pictures of what she did, she wirr be ashamed to show her face anywhere on Vesta.' "

  "Why, the—" He could not think of a suitable expression.

  "And then Sonig say, 'To make sure she go out tomorrow, you bawr her out good so she wirr want to cry on the rootenant's shourder again.' And Rord Narf say, 'I wirr be very grad to terr the two-timing hussy what I think of her, don't worry.' "

  "Why, she was only a scared girl and that rat thinks she—"

  * * *

  " . . . Your promise to your dying father" Narf's voice came in accusation. "He's gone now, and you can betray him, too! Why don't you go all the way in your deceptions . . . your father will never know . . ."

  Alonzo said, "I think I go back and stay croser to her cabin, Rootenant."

  It was an hour later, and Narf's voice had settled to a low, steady growling, when Hunter heard a helicopter settle down near the camp. A minute later, Val Boran was outlined momentarily in the doorway of the cabin he shared with Sonig. There followed the exchange of a few words—interrogation in Val's tone—and then the sound of Sonig's voice alone, which continued for minute after minute.

  Sonig is telling him all about it, Hunter thought, including my walking into that tree. But there won't be one word in sympathy with Lyla.

  Sonig's story ended and Hunter saw Val leave the cabin. He came straight up the path toward Hunter, looming tall in the darkness as he stopped before him. There was the pale gleam of metal in Val's belt—a blaster. His voice came cold and flat:

  "I want to talk to you, Lieutenant."

  Hunter sighed, thinking, I suppose he wants to kill me, too.

  He got up and said, "We'll go inside. Shut the door behind you—I don't want your friend straining his ears to hear us."

  Val sat tall even in the chair, his face like a carving in a dark granite and his eyes as bright and hard.

  "I understand that you took Princess Lyla into the tiger forest today." Val's hand was very near the blaster. "I understand you then played the role of affectionate rescuer."

  "Do you believe that story?" Hunter asked.

  "Do you have a different one?"

  "You might ask Lyla. Or Alonzo. Alonzo is the one who came to me for help when he saw she was going out to die."

  "To die?" A startled expression came into the black eyes. "She wanted to die?"

  "I'll tell you what happened," Hunter said, and told him the story, omitting only the embarrassing kissing incident and knowing that Sonig had not.

  Val was silent for a while after Hunter finished speaking, then he said, "It isn't for me to comment upon Lord Narf's character or actions. She is his wife by her own choice. But the thought of someone else taking her out and—"

  "I know. It wasn't so." Then Hunter added, "You think a great deal of her, don't you?"

  Val's face hardened and Hunter thought he would not answer. Then he smiled a little, even though without humor, and said:

  "Since I came here to kill you if I thought you deserved it, I suppose I am obligated to answer your question. My regard for Princess Lyla is the respectful one that any civilized man would have for another man's wife."

  There was an unintended implication in the statement and Hunter made a conjecture:

  "You and Princess Lyla were engaged—how long ago?"

  There was surprise on Val's face, and something like pain quickly masked. "So she's already making it public information?"

  "No. I learned of it from . . . other sources. I don't know, of course, why you persuaded her to break the engagement—that's none of my business, anyway."

  "No," Val said. "It's none of your business. I'll tell you this: I didn't ask her to break the engagement. But so long as that was what she wanted, I certainly wasn't going to beg her to change her mind."

  Val stood up to go. "If you don't mind, I would rather you said nothing to Princess Lyla about this visit tonight. I'm afraid my misplaced sense of chivalry would make me look like a fool to her."

  Then, as an after thought, Val added, "Mr. Rockford had further business in the city."

  * * *

  It was late when Narf finally left Lyla's part of the cabin. He went to the cabin occupied by Val and Sonig, aroused Sonig, and the two of them went to the helicopter field. Hunter heard the helicopter leaving for the city a few minutes later. Val's cabin remained dark and after a while, the light in Lyla's cabin went out.

  He went to bed, but not to sleep. Over and over, a lonely little Princess Lyla clung to him for comfort, crying, while he held her close. He twisted and turned restlessly as he thought of the hours she had sat alone and unloved while Narf poured out his hatred and fury on her.

  There was a yearning for her, a desire to hold her and always protect her, that would not let him sleep. And he realized the reason why.

  He thought miserably, I'm in love with her!

  * * *

  Rockford was in bed, snoring loudly, with six empty beer cans on the floor beside him, when Hunter got up. He went outside and found Alonzo waiting for him.

  "They got it awr pranned to kirr you for sure today, Rootenant."

  "How?" he asked.

  "Rast night, Rord Narf and Sonig go to the city and Rord Narf, he hire four bad-rooking men with brasters, and Sonig hire fou
r more that are his countrymen, and they bring these men back and now they are hiding in the woods. And they awrso bring back movie cameras with terescope renses. And Rord Narf raff and say he wirr marry Princess Ryra today before your dead body is even coor."

  "Oh?" Hunter said. He thought of the snoring Rockford and his words of two days before: If you manage to live that long. How, he wondered, could the lazy old drunkard have made such an accurate guess?

  "And then," Alonzo said, "Rord Narf wake up Princess Ryra—onry I know she wasn't asreep—and he terr her he ruv her and have awready made awr the arrangement for them to get married today, right after runch. And he terr her she is right about the Space Guard and she wirr have until runch to tawrk to you about it."

  There was the sound of Narf's door opening and closing and Alonzo said, "I go now—Rord Narf might guess that I are terring you things."

  A few minutes later Narf and Sonig came down the path toward Hunter. Both carried packsacks—the cameras, of course—and both carried long-range rifle blasters.

  "Good morning, Lieutenant!" Narf was smiling and pseudogenial again. "About last night—sometimes a man has to be stern with his wife to impress her. Very foolish thing she did—might have been killed. I'm afraid I was so badly shaken with worry over her that I didn't even thank you for bringing her back."

  "A beautiful morning, lieutenant!" Sonig was smiling, coming as close to beaming as the nature of his face would permit. "Lord Narf is going to take me stag hunting this morning—I'll get some lessons from a master. Did you ever see his lordship's collection of heads? Amazing!"

  "But it seems a sportsman's collection is never quite complete," Narf said. He was still smiling but the hatred was burning like a fire in his eyes as he looked at Hunter. "There's one more head I must have—I intend to get it this morning."

  Narf and Sonig were gone when Lyla came out of her cabin, her face pale and drawn. Val came out of his cabin and the two spoke to each other in greeting. There was a silence, in which neither seemed to know what to say.

  Finally, awkwardly, Val said, "I heard about yesterday, Lyla. Why did you go into the tiger forest?"

  "Oh . . . I was just walking, I guess, and didn't notice where."

  "You went there to die, didn't you?"

  "I . . . when you have nothing left—" Then she lifted her head in a proud gesture and said, "Should it matter to you?"

  For a moment Val had the look of a man struck. Then it was gone and he said in an emotionless voice:

  "No. I was asking about something that is only your husband's business. I won't do it again."

  He turned away, back to his cabin.

  "Val—" She took a quick step after him, the proud air gone and her arms outstretched. "I didn't mean—"

  He turned back, his tone politely questioning.

  "Yes?"

  "I only wanted—" Then her arms dropped and the life went out of her voice. "What does it matter . . . what does anything matter?"

  She hurried into her cabin and the door closed behind her.

  * * *

  Rockford spoke from the doorway behind Hunter:

  "Well, my boy, are you ready for your day's duties?"

  He followed Rockford inside, where Rockford settled down in the easy-chair and yawned.

  "I had a rather busy night," he said. "Certain events occurred yesterday afternoon which forced me to change my own plans to some extent. Or to set them ahead a day, I should say."

  He made an effort to put the vision of Lyla from his mind and asked, "Did you make any progress with Val Boran?"

  "No, I'm afraid not. Of course, I didn't expect to." Rockford yawned again. "There was another message from Supreme Command. The situation is getting worse. Which reminds me of your Duty For The Day and the fact that if you can live through it, you will have it made."

  He's my superior, Hunter thought. He's supposed to outrank a Space Patrol General—and he's amused by the situation he's here to remedy.

  "Right now," Rockford said, "Lyla faces a grim future and feels like she doesn't have a friend in the world. She needs a shoulder to cry on. You will take her for a walk and supply that shoulder."

  Somehow, even though the order had nothing to do with the Terran-Verdam crisis, he did not have the heart to object. She had been crying before she even reached her door. Later, after he had comforted her, he would demand that Rockford get down to determined effort on the Verdam problem. No more than an hour would be lost by that . . .

  "Yes, sir," he said. "But in the interests of Princess Lyla's safety, I had better talk to her in her cabin. Alonzo saw Narf and Sonig bring back eight—"

  "Professional killers, to dispose of you," Rockford finished. "I know all about it, and I know that Narf took time last night to spend an hour with his favorite girl friend and brag even to her that he was going to marry Lyla today before your dead body had time to get cool.

  "But you just take Lyla for another walk and you will cause the beginning of the end for the Verdam Peoples Worlds. You will go down in history, my boy, as the man who saved the Terran Republic."

  Hunter went out the door, again feeling a feverish sense of unreality. He was to go forth and get blasted into hamburger and by some mysterious process known only to Rockford, the Verdam empire would contritely start collapsing . . .

  He did not knock on her door. He did not think of it as a violation of her privacy. She would be feeling too alone and unwanted to care.

  She was not crying as he had thought she would be. She was standing by the window, staring down at the gray, distant desert, her eyes as bleakly empty as it.

  "Hello, Lyla," he said.

  "Hello, Dale. I was just thinking; this is the day that I, as a woman, should always have dreamed about"—she tried to smile, and failed, and the brass came into her voice—"my wedding day!"

  "Alonzo told me about it."

  It seemed to him he should add something, such as to wish her happiness—but such words would be meaningless and farcical and they would both know it.

  But there was no reason why he should endanger her by obeying Rockford's insane order. He would not do it—

  "Ah . . . good morning, Lyla!" Rockford loomed in the doorway, jovial as a Santa Claus. "Did you know Dale wants to go for a walk in the woods with you this bright spring morning—and he's no doubt too bashful to tell you so? Do you good to get away from camp"—there was the suggestion of a pause—"while you're still free."

  He turned a beaming smile on Hunter. "Don't stand there like a dummy, boy—take her by the arm and let her have a last walk with someone who cares what happens to her."

  There was one thing about Rockford not compatible with his air of fond fatherliness: his eyes were hard, gray slate as they looked into Hunter's and there was no mistaking their expression. Rockford had not made a fatherly suggestion for his own amusement. He had given an order that he intended to be obeyed.

  * * *

  Hunter and Lyla walked on through the thickets of ghost trees and arrow brush, each with little to say, Hunter feeling more and more like a ridiculous fool. They had no destination, no purpose in their walk, other than to abide by Rockford's desire that a total of ten assassins get a chance to slaughter a certain expendable second lieutenant.

  He did not put his arm around Lyla as they walked. If they killed him, it would have to be without their having the satisfaction of the pictures they wanted with which to blackmail her.

  They came to a tiny clearing, where a cloud tree log made an inviting seat in the shade, and Lyla said:

  "No matter how far we walk, I'll have to go back to face it. Let's stop here, and rest a while."

  He saw that the clearing was fairly well screened, but certainly not completely so. It would have to do.

  He sat down on the log several feet away from her, not wanting to take the chance of her getting hit by accident.

  Not that I'm enthusiastic about getting hit by intent, myself, he thought. What a way for a Space Guard officer to
die.

  He wondered if Rockford would ever inform Headquarters that Lieutenant Dale Hunter had died in the line of duty—by whatever twisted logic this insane episode could be called duty—and he wondered how the Commemoration Roll would read for him . . . Displaying courage above and beyond the call of duty, Lieutenant Hunter sat conspicuously on top of a hill and calmly waited for ten assassins to slaughter him . . .

  "It's peaceful and quiet here, isn't it?" Lyla said.