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quietly behind him. She touched her hand to his shoulder, steady-
ing him as he tottered, and unconsciously he covered her fingers
with his own hand. Her skin was soft and strangely cool to his
touch.
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"Yes . . ." he said, still from a long way off. "I guess I need
it."
"I'm sorry"-her voice was low in his ear-"I hinted about
... what you know about, when Biset tried to kill the Captain."
"That's all right," he said. "It doesn't matter."
"It should," she said. She was guiding him to a cot. It was his
own cot. The long shape of the Captain lay still on Hem's. He was
aware now of Hem standing beside it, watching him. Giles dropped
heavily on his cot and lay back.
"A little sleep..." he said. "Yes. Just a little..."
He went away then, off into the same lightlessness of the long
distance where his voice had already preceded him, leaving ship,
arbites, and Albenareth Captain all behind.
138
Thirty-fourth day-11:45 hours
It was the last fruit on the vine.
They were all watching as Giles plucked it and cradled it in
his hands. It was full, plump, filled with juice, and it had remained
on the vine until the absolute last moment. The juice container was
about three-quarters full-about six days' supply on half rations.
They had come a long way to this moment when the final fruit was
plucked, the last liquid extracted. After this...?
Hem lifted the handle of the press carefully so Giles could
place the fruit into the opening. Then the big arbite pushed down,
over and over again, until the last drop had been pressed from the
pulp and had dripped into the plastic container. It was a pitifully
small amount Giles removed the pulp and divided it into eight
equal amounts.
"Eat it all, right away/' he said. "There's still water in the
pulp, so we'll skip today's juice ration. And from tomorrow on
we'll go on half rations until all the juice we have is used up. This
is the only way. We have to stretch what we have as long as
possible, while there's still hope."
There were no arguments. They choked down the pulp, chew-
ing it to extract every last drop of juice, licking the bowls dry
afterward. Giles poured the juice from the last fruit carefully into
the tank, then went to make his noon check of their course. He
139
was doing it faster now. Once it had been set into the controls
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there was little else he could do for six hours. The stars in the
screen seemed unchanged, changeless, and he fought hard against
a feeling of black despair that threatened to overwhelm him. Mara
came up, walking slowly as they all did now, her clothing hanging
loose on her thin body. She pointed to the screen.
"Which one is it?" she said. "I don't mean 20B-40 itself. I
know we can't see that. I mean 20B-40's sun."
He tapped a spot of light, no different in appearance from so
many of the others.
"Shouldn't it be getting larger, or brighter?"
"No. Not until we've made our last warp shift. This screen is
for navigation only. In any case a star doesn't look any brighter
until the last day or two of flight."
"But we are on the right course?" There was need for reas-
surance in her voice.
"I believe so," he said.
"If it is the right course, then how much longer will it be?"
"According to what the Captain told me, we could be there
about ten days from now. But that would be on her course, under
ideal conditions. I don't think we can expect that well of my
navigation, even if it's right. It could be more than ten days."
"You're not very encouraging," she said, with a weak attempt
at a smile.
"Sorry . . ." he said, staring at the controls. His voice ran
down and stopped. He could think of nothing more to say.
The conversation died like most of them lately, ran down
without any real point or ending. He dozed in the chair and when
he opened his eyes she had left. The stars looked very, very cold.
Forty-first day-12:00 hours
The last drop of juice dripped from the faucet into the bowl
with a small plopping sound. The very last. There was nothing to
be said, so they drank their rations in silence. The last.
There were no buds on the vine, although they kept checking.
140
There were no buds anywhere, and no sign of fruit at all. The ib
vine seemed healthy enough, covered with a fine crop of glossy, flat
leaves. They had tried chewing the leaves, but it was useless, since
they were very dry and bitter and seemed to use more saliva than
any amount of water they might supply.
Forty-second day
Forty-third day
Forty-fourth day
Forty-fifth day
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