to get Navajo and Crustie their breakfast. Then back upstairs to find the Primate and Elstara already up and getting breakfast. As they came in Elstara Bin turned on the musicale, even though it was early morning, and smiling at Charles, she said: "This day is a special one, so it's not too early!" and she rumpled Charlie's black hair affectionately.
"Oh, I recognize that music," Charlie said. "It's another song from my home world, isn't it?"
"Yes, Charles. It's one we call the Civilization Waltz, the waltz of culture."
As Charlie sat down to listen with them, the dignified, soothing melody filled the big room. He couldn't think of the exact title, except to remember that he had heard it long ago, and it recalled a place of his homeland, a place called Luxemburg.
The whole family gave Charlie hardly a minute to himself all day. They did one thing after another, visiting several places in the Capitol City, back home, and then in the evening, the special festive supper that had every delicacy their world could offer. And Charlie found, in dressing for dinner, that his own special new clothes had just arrived. And on the short toga cape, there was the vivid blue cobalt stripe—the Sun stripe color of the Council, which could only be worn by members of the Primate's personal family. Somehow, as Charlie looked at it admiringly, that small shimmering band on the left shoulder was the final touch in making him feel at home. Like Dondee and Biri, he was officially part of the Primate's family; they were his folks now.
"By the stripe of your toga, Charles," said the Primate as he came from his room, "it will be another race now, between you and your duplicate Dondee, to see who can grow up and become the next Council Member!"
"This is a time," said Elstara, "that your father can say is indeed a parallel case. Charles and Dondee. Perhaps, both shall become members."
"Oh, I know they will!" Biri said, fairly shouting the words to show she could also use the sound language of Charlie. She glanced at Dondee, turning up her nose at him, then laughed.
Dondee grinned back good-naturedly, not envying the special preference shown his friend and new duplicate.
"Now if old Biri was a boy too, maybe she could become—"
A fiery impulse—then her remembered voice, shot quickly at Dondee, telling him, "Maybe some day they will have women on the Council!"
As the dinner proceeded, Primate Bin stood up to speak.
"For a gracious act, Charles," he said, "and a special service to the family beyond repayment, I wish to give you now, that wish you may want most. I have talked with the world Council Members, and I, through them, am authorized to grant to you now, my other son, whatever gift it is within our power to give."
As he paused and waited, Charlie looked about at all of them, noticing suddenly the very serious expression on all their faces—Elstara, Biri and Dondee. At first, not understanding, he then realized their solemn looks were caused by
what the Primate had just said. The full impact hit him squarely now. He could see the reason for their sorrowful looks. Whatever gift is within our power—sure, that would mean anything . . . going anywhere, the thought raced through Charlie's mind. And even as he thought it, he realized that they, too, clearly knew his great and excited thought —the thought for that distant home. And Charlie also realized now, that all along they knew this moment would come.
"Yes, Charles," the Primate repeated the sincere impulse, speaking the words softly, "even that can be granted. I shall honor your request. The departure shall be when you wish it."
"Yes, Charles," Elstara Bin added her impulse, her eyes brimmed with sudden tears. "Yes, you can, Charles."
"It's the best gift of all," Dondee said, "the one we figured you might want."
"Even if we're going to miss you forever and ever," Biri said, trying not to look at her mother and possibly break down too.
"Up to now, Charles," Dondee said, "we were the only family in our world that had a member with black eyes."
With Dondee's comment, Charlie laughed suddenly, then all of them were laughing, feeling better.
"We must feel the happiness of Charles," said the Primate, from his seat. "Whatever he wants, that is what we want too."
They all nodded. Once again the dinner party was gay as all tried to concentrate on the gala event for Charlie, and to make it something he would never forget . . . even back on his own
world. Charlie felt deeply grateful. Everything had changed for him now. All the alien world, even its silvery mist without pure Sun's light. Nothing could keep him from liking it now, from feeling he would at least miss it a little. Then Dondee stood up quickly, eagerly. "Biri has the best surprise of all for you, Charles," he said, smiling at Charlie. Then he added: "Well, anyway—the second best!"
Elstara and the Primate glanced at each other and shrugged their shoulders, not knowing just what the surprise was that Biri and Dondee had concealed from them, as well as Charlie.
"Biri's going to do something," Dondee went on, "and it's something she could never do, if it hadn't been for Charles."
Glancing down at his sister, he added unceremoniously: "Go
on, Biri, get up on your feet and do it now."
Immune to Dondee's bluntness, Biri got up as though she had been given the finest of introductions. She turned a little to face Charlie better.
"It's something from your world, Charles," she said, speaking the words. " 'The Sunlight Serenade.' I learned all the words, Charles, so I could sing it for you."
High up in the Primate's tower in the Capitol City, Charlie listened, as Biri Biri Bin began the song they called the Sunlight Serenade, a song of Earth the Barrier World had taken for its own . . .
"How sweet is Sunshine, bright and laughing Sunshine
When skies are clearing, for our forthfaring
Through Sunny weather, let us go together
For oh how sweet is life when light is true ... Oh Sun of beauty,
Oh star of light In your eyes only> is my delight My Sun, my Sun
of beauty My star of light . . . My star of light."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Going Home
Charlie decided not to stay too long, for he found it made him sad to think of the departure. The last days for him on the Barrier World of Saturn passed swiftly—carefree days, free of all former misgivings, except for the shadow of parting. The idea that he would leave the Bin home and never see Dondee and Biri again saddened him most of all.
"I hope, son," said Darda Bin, "that no matter where you are, you might want to keep your new family name . . . remembering that we will always consider your home as being here."
"We'll always have a place here, Charles, for you," and as she spoke, Elstara placed her hand on her left side, over the heart. "Always."
"Charles Bin," Biri said, more to herself than the others, and just to see how the name sounded out loud as she said it.
Charlie smiled around at them. "I guess you know, I'm sure going to miss you, too. All of you."
"Oh—son," the Primate said now, "I must ask a favor of you, a promise. It's very important to our world . . . your other home."
"Yes, father?"
"Please, when you are back on your world, never mention the Star Project, will you?"
Charlie remained silent for some moments, his thoughts recalling now the great mystery he had almost forgotten, the secret that even now he did not know about their world.
"But—" he said, "I—I couldn't promise that. I don't even know that it isn't going to be—"
"No, son," Elstara put in, "it is no such thing. Our world would never, could never, attack your homeland. We are not savages."
"Nor any other world, son," the Primate added. "You see, it's been now approximately seven thousand years since our great cities were united, and since the armed forces of that time were abolished."
"Then why should it be a secret—whatever it is?" Charlie asked, more puzzled than ever.
"Pride!" Dondee said, suddenly angry. "That's all it is, foolish pride!"
"I suppose it is ..." said the Primate.
They were all silent for some time after Dondee's sudden outburst.
"It would be difficult to make you see it, Charles," the Primate went on.
"Why—why would it, sir—" Charlie asked quickly, "because maybe your world still thinks I'm a primitive?"
"Oh no," Elstara said, going over and putting her arm about him. "We could never think that again, son. Never."
"I shall tell you," Darda Bin said. "If you feel it proper, you can keep the confidence. If not, you may divulge it."
"I'll keep it," Charlie agreed, "just so long as it won't hurt anybody. Back home."
"It is this, then," the Primate began. "I hope, in the light of circumstance, you can understand a higher civilization's pride, son. For a long time, we never knew what your world's reaction might be, were we to tell them the secret of our search, the reasons for the Star Project. And, as a proud culture, we could not bring ourselves to ask, perhaps even beg, and then be refused the chance to find what we sought."
"But I still don't see what—"
"I'll tell you, Charles. We now have within our grasp, the solution to the one great problem of our land, the knowledge of how we might be able to break down the Barrier around this planet, just as the barrier once circling your Little Star was broken down. Not by Man, but through natural causes, millions of years ago."
"You mean, sir—father, that all you want to know is—is how to clear away the fog, the mist, and have straight sunshine?"
"Yes, Charles. We know now it can be done, chemically.
The studies made in your Arizona country have proven that. The shadows of our world can be lifted, must be lifted, just as even your world already knows how to make mists. It is what your land calls rain-making."
"Oh . . ." Charlie said.
"It was for that reason only, Charles, that we made regular missions to your Arizona country. Through the study and experiments under your atmospheric conditions, we have realized the greatest dream of all, as we now stand on the threshold. We shall be able now to brush away the mighty mists that veil us from the Sun we call our own."
Charlie looked at each one, then back at the Primate again.
"Sir, I promise that I'll never tell the secret. I sort of feel a little bit, well—like this is my own world now, too. I'll want to know you have the Sunlight too, so I'll keep the secret."
Charlie realized, just before the last day for take-off, that his life on the Barrier World had been pretty happy all around, almost like the happy days when Uncle John was still alive. Navajo had been sick the night before, but it was mostly from all the past strain of the trip between two planets, different water for drinking, and the general excitement he had been through. He was just tired, Charlie realized, and getting pretty old now. But the morning came, and Navajo, seeming to sense that he was going home, was up and eager when Charlie came to get him for the trip to the upper surface.
"Here, Dondee," he said, "you always liked them a lot— and one for you, Biri. This one's for you to keep."
Jumping up and down with joy, they both hugged Charlie, delighted with the silver star spur-wheel he had given each one of them. Neither one of them mentioned the fact that he now had only one spur, or that he'd probably never have any use for it in the city, much less find a horse to ride. That was beside the point. Both immediately got other heavier shoes—the boots worn on the surface—and Charlie helped them attach the spurs.
"We'll never take them off!" Biri promised, reflecting Dondee's impulse too. "We'll always wear them, Charles."
Again promising the Primate that no matter what, he would keep this homeland's secret, Charlie was held close by the Primate and Elstara, before they finally released him to go aboard.
"Please," Dondee begged again, as he and Biri had done all day, "can't we just go with Charles, to be sure he gets home again all right?"
Their parents agreed finally, when Charlie asked them, too.
"All right, you can go with your duplicate, the both of you. But remember, all of you—you too, Charles, be sure and obey the flagship's commander."
"And be careful," Elstara Bin added to her husband's comment.
"And when we get there—" Dondee pushed their victory further, "we don't have to just drop Charles and rush right back the same minute, do we, father?"
Primate Bin sighed wearily, smiling at Charles.
"No, I suppose you don't. But don't delay too long. It's hard enough for Charles to leave you now, without your making his going home all the more difficult."
The last goodbyes were said on the Barrier World. Only Elstara cried now, softly, gently, as Charles left. Charlie finally ran for the flagship's open waiting ramp. Dondee and Biri had already gone aboard and were waiting for him. There was no dragging of time on the return trip to Little Star, for none of the three really wanted the separation. With every passing day, their pleasure in being together became more clouded as they neared the Arizona country. But to Charlie it was far easier to take it since it was his own world to which he was returning, the world he had always known, and he wanted to be back in the security of the familiar Shack, just to be home again. He loved Dondee and Biri, the only brother and sister he had ever had, his duplicates, but this was something he must force himself to forget.
On the last day the commander began the deceleration. Charlie, Biri and Dondee watched silently as Charlie's brilliant green ball loomed in monumental splendor before them, its five great continents clearly defined. With the speed decrease, the ship was scheduled for alightment that evening—in the same old place Charlie remembered, the natural cradle ramp, formed by the twin peaks of Saddle Mountain. In this way, they would most likely be unseen, since the Commander didn't want to make it any more obvious than necessary that they had come down.
Biri was the most excited of all, since Dondee had seen Charlie's Arizona already, and she was extremely disappointed when the Commander informed them that the landing
would be made at night. She wanted to see Charlie's Sun, how it looked white instead of blue in Arizona, as Charlie had told her.
As the last rays of the Sun fell shimmering into the great Pacific Ocean to the westward, out of Biri's eager view, the mighty flagship plunged downward, slanting like a great and swiftly falling leaf. It navigated the last several hundred thousand feet, then hovered briefly as it swung into position over the familiar Saddle Peaks.
"That's them! That's it!" Charlie shouted, and all three danced happily, carelessly disregarding the signal to hold to the grip-safeties.
After the first excitement, and after the ramp had been lowered from the bottom tier, the three stood on the lower control dome's platform, finding themselves strangely without anything to say. Charlie was home. Charlie looked at them now, feeling inwardly guilty about leaving them, saying goodbye forever. Then suddenly Dondee pushed out his hand, trying hard to say the words lightly as he smiled.
"Shake, Charles!"
Charlie did. Then he shook Biri's hand, anxious to do anything to hide his feelings.
"And—and like on your world," Charlie said quickly, and he put his hands to both Biri's and Dondee's face in turn, as was their world's custom. "My duplicates."
Turning abruptly, Charlie ran for Navajo, jumping up onto his back Indian fashion. As he mounted, the old horse started eagerly off the ramp, whinnying happily at the familiar desert smell. Charlie glanced back at the dim glow of lights, and the
two small figures standing there close together on the great ramp. He waved, then turned away quickly, even as they waved back.
Charlie didn't look back or even wait to see their take-off into the night. He had seen that once before, and knew how it would be. It was better not to stop and think or let his feelings go. As he hurried Navajo down the hard dirt road toward the Dam, Charlie spurred the old horse gently with his spur-less boot heels, getting the already-excited Navajo into an easy gallop. But even now, the terrible loneliness from the p
ast came back to him. He felt again that former emptiness, that he had felt ever since Uncle John died. Leaving Dondee and Biri now only added to the feeling, making it come back worse than ever.
He patted Navajo again as he released him near the old corral, then went inside. He stopped a moment to look at the same old hoof-marks where Navajo had regularly kicked in the side of the house under his special window. Carefully folding up the bright toga with the Primate cobalt stripe, Charlie sighed as he half-heartedly slapped some dust out of the old levis. Then he lay back on his same old bunk, kicking off the boots slowly, one by one.
He whistled once, as he often used to do, waiting to hear Nav's answering whinny from the corral. But it did not come. Frowning, he turned his head toward the window, and whistled again, louder this time. It was strange Nav didn't answer.
A sudden alarm overtaking him, Charlie hopped up from the bunk and ran through the door. As he hurried across the
clearing to the corral in his bare feet, he heard a low moan,
then a feeble whinny, as Navajo answered as best he could.
Running now, Charlie found Navajo lying on his side,
Star Ship on Saddle Mountain Page 14
