the last ship had blasted off and the rocket trails had faded into overwhelming darkness. the sun, which had been trying to lose itself among the other stars, finally succeeded. the asteroid was no longer the junkpile. it was a small world that had become a swift ship.
"we can survive," said docchi. "power and oxygen, we have, and we can grow or synthesize our food."
he sat beside anti's tank, which had been returned to the usual place. a small tree nodded overhead in the artificial breeze. it was peaceful enough. but nona wasn't there.
"we'll get you out of the tank," promised jordan. "when she comes back, we'll rig up a place where there's no gravity. and we'll continue cold treatment."
"i can wait," said anti. "on this world i'm normal."
docchi stared forlornly about. the one thing he wanted to see wasn't there.
"if you're worrying about nona," advised anti, "don't. the guards were pretty rough with the women, but plastissue doesn't feel pain. they didn't find her."
"how do you know?"
"listen," said anti. the ground shivered with the power of the gravital units. "as long as they're running, how can you doubt?"
"if i could be sure—"
"you can start now," jordan said. "first, though, you'd better get up and turn around."
docchi scrambled to his feet. she was coming toward him.
she showed no sign of strain. except for a slight smudge on her wonderfully smooth and scar-less cheek, she might just have stepped out of a beauty cubicle. without question, she was the most beautiful woman in the world. this world, of course, though she could have done well on any world—if she could have communicated with people as well as with machines.
"where were you hiding?" docchi asked, expecting no answer.
she smiled. he wondered, with a feeling of helplessness, if machines could sense and appreciate her lovely smile, or whether they could somehow smile themselves.
"i wish i could take you in my arms," he said bitterly.
"it's not as silly as you think," said anti, watching from the surface of the tank. "you don't have any arms, but she has two. you can talk and hear, but she can't. between you, you're a complete couple."
"except that she would never get the idea," he answered unhappily.
jordan, rocking on his hands, looked up quizzically. "i must be something like her. they used to call me a born mechanic; just put a wrench in my hand and i can do anything with a piece of machinery. it's as if i sense what the machine wants done to it. not to the extent that nona can understand, naturally. you might say it's reversed, that she's the one who can hear while i have to lip-read."
"you never just gabble," docchi prompted. "you have something in mind."
jordan hesitated. "i don't know if it's stupid or what. i was thinking of a kind of sign language with machines. you know, start with the simple ones, like clocks and such, and see what they mean to her. since they'd be basic machines, she'd probably have pretty basic reactions. then it's just a matter of—"
"you don't have to blueprint it," docchi cut in excitedly. "that would be fine for determining elementary reactions, but i can't carry around a machine shop; it wouldn't be practical. there ought to be one variable machine that would be portable and yet convey all meanings to her."
"an electronic oscillator?"
acid waves washed at the sides of the tank as anti stirred impatiently. "will you two great brains work it out in the lab, please? and when you get through with that problem, you'll have plenty more to keep you occupied until we get to the stars. jordan and me, for instance. what future is there for a girl unless she can get married?"
"that's right," docchi said. "i've got an idea we can do better than normal doctors. being accidentals ourselves, we won't stop experimenting till we succeed. and we have hundreds of years to do it in."
glowing, literally, with pleasure, he bent over for jordan to climb on his back. then he kissed nona and headed for the laboratory.
nona smiled and followed.
"there are some things you don't need words or machines to express," anti called out. "keep that in mind, will you?"
she submerged contentedly in the acid bath. above the dome, the stars gleamed a bright welcome to the little world that flashed through interstellar space.
—f. l. wallace
