boucher book oct28.pdf - Index of

Barrier 181
Stephen beamed. “It bees such pleasure to hear old speech, articles and all.”
Alex had a more practical thought. “How can you set it to one day? I thinked
your dial readed only in years.”
“There’s a vernier attachment that’s accurate—or should be, it’s never been tested
yet—to within two days. I’m allowing a week’s margin. I don’t want to be around
too long and run chances with Stappers.”
“Krasna will miss you.”
“Krasna’s a funny name. You others have names that were in use back in my
day.”
“Oh, it bees not name. It bees only what everyone calls red-headed girls. I think
it goes back to century of Russian domination.”
“Yes,” Alex added. “Stephen’s sister’s real name bees Martha, but we never call
her that.”
John Brent gaped. “I … I’ve got to go see the old lady,” he stammered.
From the window of the gray-haired Martha-Krasna he could see the red-headed
Krasna-Martha outside. He held on to a solid and reassuring chair and said, “Well,
madam, I have news. We’re going back today.”
“Oh, thank Cosmos!”
“But I’ve got to find out something from you. What was the date set for the
launching of the second Barrier?”
“Let me see— I know it beed holiday. Yes, it beed May 1.”
“My, my! May Day a holiday now? Workers of the World Unite, or simply
Gathering Nuts in May?”
“I don’t understand you. It bees Dyce-Farnsworth’s birthday, of course. But then
I never understand …”
In his mind he heard the same plaint coming from fresh young lips. “I … I
understand now, madam,” he said clumsily. “Our meeting—I can see why you—”
Damn it, what was there to say?
“Please,” she said. There was, paradoxically, a sort of pathetic dignity about her.
“I do not understand. Then at littlest let me forget.”
He turned away respectfully. “Warehouse in half an hour!” he called over his
shoulder.
The young Krasna-Martha was alone in the warehouse when Brent got there.
He looked at her carefully, trying to see in her youthful features the worn ones of
the woman he had just left. It made sense.
“I comed first,” she said, “because I wanted to say good-by without others.”
“Good-by, milady,” Brent murmured into her fine red hair. “In a way I’m not
leaving you because I’m taking you with me and still I’ll never see you again. And
you don’t understand that, and I’m not sure you’ve ever understood anything I’ve
said, but you’ve been very sweet.”
“And you will destroy Barrier? For me?”
“For you, milady. And a few billion others. And here come our friends.”
Alex carried a small box which he tucked under one of the seats. “Dial and
mechanism beed repaired days ago,” he grinned. “I’ve beed working on this for