A Season for Slaughter watc-4

by David Gerrold

  Lizard turned to Sameshima abruptly. "This is your work, isn't it?" Harry didn't even pretend to be humble. He was a short man, given to fleshiness, and his Asian ancestry gave him an ageless demeanor; but when Lizard turned the full force of her industrial strength smile on him, the poor man could barely stammer out his reply. He flushed and nodded and bowed and lost the last vestiges of his ability to speak.

  Lizard was as elegant as a queen. But now she did something that surprised even me. She took poor embarrassed Harry's hands in hers, lifted them gently to her lips and kissed them as if they were royal treasures. "These are the tools of a true artist," she told him. "They are blessed by all the gods of heaven. I am humbled by the vision that these hands have made. May these tools bring very good fortune to the worker who bears them."

  She let go of his hands then, and Harry Sameshima bowed deeply to her. When he straightened, I could see that his eyes were moist with emotion. He probably didn't meet many people who could appreciate his work so deeply. He led us over the twelfth and last bridge to a sheltered gazebo, set with a simple table. Then he left us alone.

  I looked to Lizard. She was still gazing around in awe, her face bright with wonder. "This is amazing-" she breathed.

  "You made that man's whole voyage," I said. "I didn't know you knew so much about Japanese gardens."

  "I hardly know anything about Japanese gardens," she replied. "But I do know gardeners. My dad was a gardener," she added. "A Japanese garden is a delicate little world. It's an evocation of wu ideal. It's a place of beauty and meditation. The position of every stone and every flower is carefully considered. A Japanese garden isn't just a garden; it's a prayer. It's a portrait of the gardner's vision of heaven." She turned around slowly, waving her hand gracefully to include everything around us. "This garden is a devotion. It's as holy a place as I've ever seen…" She fell quiet in wonder then, and so did I.

  After a moment, she took my hand, and after another moment, she slid into my arms. "I had no idea," she whispered to me, "that there were still places this beautiful on the Earth."

  "This place isn't on the Earth," I whispered back. "This place comes to you, lifts you up, and takes you anyplace you want to go. It's not just a holy place, it's a magic place."

  Captain Harbaugh joined us then, grinning as if at some private joke. Lizard and I slipped apart as she came across the last bridge. "What did you say to Harry Sameshima?" she said to Lizard. "I've never seen him so flustered. He was weeping with happiness."

  Lizard was nonchalant. "Oh, I just told him I liked his garden."

  Captain Anne Jillian Harbaugh raised one eyebrow and gave General Elizabeth Tirelli a skeptical look. "Sure," she said drily. "The only time I've ever seen him react more intensely was when the emperor of Japan came aboard. The emperor stopped on the second bridge and just stared, his mouth wide open. Harry nearly had a heart attack."

  Lizard just smiled and looked innocent.

  "By the way," the captain added, "Sameshima is actually the airship's flight engineer. The garden is his . . hobby. Although, to tell the truth, I think it's really the other way around. The garden is his life and he only maintains the ship as a sideline, so he can have a nice place for his garden."

  Captain Harbaugh's words had their intended effect. Lizard's delighted smile transformed into pure astonishment. She was speechless.

  The captain of the Bosch turned to me then and extended one manicured hand. "Captain McCarthy, thank you for giving me the opportunity to extend the fullest hospitality of this vessel to you and your bride. I do not perform many weddings, only those that I am certain of. And I rarely perform weddings here. But… this is a special occasion and it requires special attention. I hope you'll understand and forgive that the circumstances of this voyage have been unusual and our staff has been under considerable pressure to keep up with the demands of your mission. But tonight, I think you'll see the kind of service that made the Fantasia famous. And I'm grateful for the opportunity to demonstrate that to you and your general. So thank you for that." She clapped her hands twice, and a small crowd of stewards came pouring into the gazebo, carrying flowers and trays and musical instruments and things for the table. They were all grinning and wearing dazzling white uniforms. They had us surrounded. I recognized Shaun; he was beaming proudly. If he had smiled any wider, the top half of his head would have fallen off.

  Four of the stewards were carrying a blue-and-white hoopah, a Jewish marriage canopy. I glanced at Lizard, surprised. She blushed and dropped her eyes, only raising them again when Shaun presented her with a bouquet of tiny lavender and pink flowers. She accepted them with a smile. This was a side of Lizard I'd never really seen before-and for a moment, it was as if I was looking back through time and seeing the young girl she had once been, back in the days of innocence. Angels had never been so beautiful. Renaissance painters would have wept at the sight of tier. I forgot where I was and just stared until Captain Harbaugh guided us gently into position under the hoopah. She nodded to one of the stewards. The lights dimmed all around us, leaving us alone in a soft golden glow. Behind us, the Fantasia string quartet, with Shaun on the violin, began teasing its way through a slow but playful interpretation of Bach's "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring." Lizard slipped her hand into mine and we looked at each other like teenagers. I was only dimly conscious of Captain Harbaugh's recitation.

  "The covenant of marriage is the most sacred of all promises; it is the coming together of two souls, uniting as one. The taking of a mate is the creation of a partnership. Here, in this space between you, the goals of the individual submerge and become part of the larger goals of the relationship. The joys and sorrows that either of you will experience from this day forward will be the joys and sorrows that both of you will experience. Your lives will he united and intertwined in a way that no one will be able to break asunder, not even yourselves-" And here, Captain Harbaugh grinned and added in a conversational tone, "That's assuming you'd be crazy enough to try."

  More relaxed now, she continued. "Elizabeth and James, I can see by the way that you look at each other that the love between the two of you is infinite. It is a blessing that you have been given by God. It is a blessing that you give to each other. Remember this feeling for as long as you both shall live, and your marriage will be a source of incredible joy and wonder to yourselves and everybody around you. Elizabeth, would you care to speak now?"

  Lizard took my hands in hers; there was a moment of clumsiness while we fiddled with the bouquet, then Captain Harbaugh reached forward and took it while Lizard and I held hands and looked into each other's eyes. "James," she began. "I hardly know how to begin. I have depended on you for strength so many times—more times than you know. I have been inspired by your commitment and your resiliency and your ability to take larger and larger bites of the world and then grow the jaws big enough to chew them. I'm not very good at romantic words," she admitted. "I just want you to know that you are the most wonderful person I know, and I will love you and cherish you and be your partner for as long as I live. I will always be beside you. Whatever may happen, my soul is yours." Her eyes were so green, I wanted to dive into them and never come out.

  "James?" Captain Harbaugh prompted.

  "Huh?"

  "Is there something you would like to say to Elizabeth?"

  I swallowed hard. "Um-" I blinked back the tears from my eyes. "Lizard-I mean, Elizabeth, I love you so much, I can hardly talk. I'm walking around in a purple daze. I can't promise you anything that I haven't already given you. But I can tell it to you again. You are my strength. You are my life. You are the place to which I return when I need to be reminded that joy and beauty and laughter are still possible. Your love refreshes my soul. Without you, I am nothing. I promise you that I will love you and cherish you and be your partner for as long as I live. I will always be beside you. Whatever may happen, my soul is yours."

  This time, Captain Harbaugh didn't interrupt until the tears were running down both
our cheeks. When I glanced over at her, I noticed that her eyes were wet too. Behind us, the Fantasia string quartet segued smoothly into a delightfully tipsy version of the "Ode to Joy" movement of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.

  Captain Anne Jillian Harbaugh spoke quietly now. "There is no authority on Earth that can validate the commitment that you have made here today. Your commitment is all the validation that is required. In fact, it is the only validation that can make any marriage possible. Nevertheless, it is important to have a symbol of that commitment so that the entire world will know that it's been made." Captain Harbaugh. nodded and one of the stewards stepped forward holding a satin cushion. On it were two shining golden bands. "A gift from the Fantasia," she said. "Elizabeth, place this ring on James's finger and repeat after me. 'I, Elizabeth Gayle Tirelli, accept thee, James, as my husband.'"

  "-I, Elizabeth Gayle Tirelli, accept thee, James, as my husband," She slipped the ring slowly onto my finger.

  "Now you, James."

  I took the second, smaller band and held it at her fingertip. I caught the look in her eyes then. She looked like a little girl again. If I could have held her that way forever, I would have. I swallowed hard and managed somehow to get the words out. "I, James Edward McCarthy, accept thee, Elizabeth, as my wife." I slid the ring onto the third finger of her left hand.

  When I looked up again, Captain Harbaugh was holding a delicate wineglass and murmuring a prayer, first in Hebrew, then in English, "Blessed art thou, oh Lord our God who has given us the fruit of the vine. May the sharing of this wine symbolize the sharing of your lives. May this cup of joy last a lifetime and a half." First Elizabeth sipped, then she passed me the goblet and I sipped too. Then I held the glass while she drank again, and she held the glass while I took my second taste. Then we both wrapped our hands carefully around the last of the wine, intertwining our fingers in a mutual embrace; we held the glass together while each of us took our third and last draught. Three drinks each. It was my reponsibility to finish the wine. For just the briefest instant, I wondered if that symbolized anything.

  Captain Harbaugh took the glass from me and wrapped it in a satin cloth and laid it on the floor between us. "By the authority vested in me to speak on behalf of the community of wisdom and law, let it be known to all that from this moment on, in the eyes of God as well as in the eyes of humanity, James and Elizabeth are now husband and wife." She laughed. "First break the glass, Jim. then kiss your wife."

  I did and I did. The glass shattered satisfyingly to shouts of "Mazel tov" and "L'chaim" from the stewards. The kiss went on ever.

  Of immediate concern to us, the neural symbionts/parasites now appear to be adapting themselves to a wide variety of Terran hosts. The neural parasites have been found growing on and in horses, cattle, dogs, cats, sheep, goats, pigs, and human beings. The San Francisco herd, for example, is almost completely infected.

  Nearly every permanent member of the herd has a thick coat of pink fur, or is in the process of growing same.

  —The Red Book,

  (Release 22.19A)

  Chapter 47

  Dinner

  "A fool and his money can get a table at the best restaurant in town."

  -SOLOMON SHORT

  If it turned out that Captain Harbaugh was as good a captain as she was a hostess, I wouldn't have been surprised to open a window the next morning and find that the giant airship was cruising gracefully over the desolate surface of the moon, or the poppy fields of Oz, or even Edgar Rice Burroughs's world of Barsoom.

  To put it succinctly, the evening was an astonishment piled upon astonishments.

  It began with champagne. The cork popped like a gunshot and the wine spurted and flowed and splashed into glasses. The wine steward, an elegant-looking man with black hair and a graying beard, informed us politely that this was a twenty-five-year-old Solon le Mesnil, "a sensational wine out of a cranky tough vintage," His nametag said he was Feist or Faust or something like that. I took his word for it and sipped curiously; it tasted fine to me. Lizard sipped, looked surprised, and then smiled happily.

  By the time we had finished the obligatory champagne toasts-fortunately, there were only a few; the captain toasted us, we toasted the airship-and turned around, the stewards had completely reset the table. Now it was spread with gold linen, rich as butter, and set with places for three. Three stewards held out our chairs for us. Captain Harbaugh ushered us forward, saying, "I've taken the liberty of ordering up a little celebration dinner. Nothing too fancy. Just accept it as my contribution to the evening."

  We took our places at the table. The stewards seated us and spread linen cloths on our laps. The settings before us were works of art. The china was inlaid with gilt traceries, and a white rose graced every plate. The tableware gleamed like stars; there were six pieces of silver on either side of the setting and two more above. The crystal had a delicate blue sparkle; it rang like a bell when you tapped it. There were goblets filled with ice water and beaded with condensation; there were champagne glasses too. A centerpiece of white candles and whiter flowers hovered between us. There were flowers everywhere. Even the butter swirls were decorated with pale violet blossoms to offset their yellow radiance. A steward lit the candles, and all the other lights in the garden dimmed to the faintest of pink glows. I reached over and took Lizard's hand in mine.

  Captain Harbaugh nodded to her head steward. I didn't see him do anything; but suddenly, the forward wall of the garden just fell away and we were suspended in space. We were on a private balcony in the nose of the dirigible. Lizard and I both gasped with delight and wonder. Before us lay a glittering- starscape. Moonlit clouds drifted in the distance like silvery whales. Below us, in the distance, the shining black river S-curved away into darkness. The powerful spotlights of the airship continued to probe the pwyle below. We were an island of yellow light in the sky; the canapy of the forest was reflected in our radiance.

  Lizard and I looked at each other, our eyes wide and bright. "I had no idea, did you-?"

  I was still gaping. "Boy, you people really live up to your name—" And then I remembered my manners. "Thank you," I said. "This is extraordinary."

  Captain Harbaugh allowed herself a pleased smile. "I thought you might like it. And… I thought you deserved it. But it's you who do us the honor. We don't get many opportunities anymore to show off."

  Dinner lasted for hours. Or maybe a lifetime. Each course had its own presentation, its own set of plates and silver, its own particular wine and wineglass. Even the wineglasses were an event. There were tall glasses and short ones; they were narrow and tall, flat and wide, deep and graceful. I was beginning to understand what it meant to eat a seven-course meal. Every course was served and appreciated in its own time, and the pace was leisurely and graceful.

  The appetizer was a profusion of baby scallops in a sweet pink fruit sauce, held in the clustered embrace of buttery green avocado sections. There was also a French foie gras pâté with truffles on thin slivers of crisp toast. Feist or Faust, or whoever, opened another bottle of champagne. This time, he said it was a twenty-year-old Veuve Clicquot "Grand Dame."

  Whatever it was, it tasted okay to me.

  Captain Harbaugh chatted amiably with Lizard and me. She spoke to each of us as individuals and both of us as a couple. She made us feel like husband and wife and honored guests and visiting royalty, all at the same time. I felt as elegant as the wine and tried to imagine how things could get better. I couldn't. I gave up trying.

  The soup was a chilled melon confection with swirls of raspberry preserves and little pink flowers floating on top. I'd never had anything like it. They could have served it as a dessert, and I wouldn't have known the difference. Faust uncorked an equally chilled fifty-year-old Wehlener Sonnenuhr feinste Beerenauslese. He said it was "a perfect wine; a fine bright, medium-pale yellow gold." He said it had "a remarkably fresh fragrant floral nose, a lovely crisp flavor." He said it was "elegant." Lizard tasted it carefully and nodded her
agreement. I didn't know what I was tasting for, but it wasn't bad at all. I nodded too.

  The conversation had drifted gradually to the subject of tomorrow evening's flyover of the Coari infestation. With my permission, Lizard shared with Captain Harbaugh my thoughts of earlier in the day about the transformation of the mandala nests-and the corresponding transformation of perception that humanity must also bring to the problem. Captain Harbaugh looked intrigued and quizzed me on the subject with genuine interest. I couldn't tell her any more than I had already told Lizard. "If we knew what the transformation was, it would have already occurred."

  "But let me ask you this-suppose you're right. In fact, I hope you are. But suppose this transformation of perception occurs and it opens the door toward a better understanding, of the mysteries of the Chtorran ecology. What then?"

  "I beg your pardon? I'm not sure I follow."

  Captain Harbaugh sipped her wine and savored it for a moment. When she looked back to me, her expression was even more thoughtful. "Do you think that if we understood the workings of the various Chtorran life cycles that we could stop the infestation?"

  "It depends on what you mean by stop. I… I don't think we'll ever completely eradicate it. I can't imagine the tools that would be necessary to scour every square meter of the planet's surface looking for Chtorran bugs and seeds. Maybe some kind of nanotechnology, but-I can't imagine how. No. But if you mean control it or contain it, then I believe that might be possible. At least, I want to believe that it's possible."