The Passenger Read online

to thebottom. I would probably have been killed but for the person of a stoutsteward who, at that moment, started to ascend the stairs. He took thefull impact of my descent on his chest and saved my life, I'm sure.However, I still received a broken ankle that has given me so much painthat I have been forced to remain in my cabin.

  "I have had no one to talk to except the steward who brings me my meals,and, as he is the one whom I met on the stairs, he has little to say. Inthe morning he frowns at me, at noon he glowers, and in the evening heremarks hopefully, 'Foot still pretty bad?' Thus, I'm starved forconversation."

  Lenore smiled at this earnest speech. "I might talk with you for aminute or two, but you must admit that you have one advantage over me.You can see me, or so you say, and know what I look like, but I can'tsee you. It isn't fair."

  "I can show myself to you," he said, "but you'll have to help me byclosing your eyes and concentrating very hard."

  * * * * *

  She closed her eyes and waited expectantly. There was a moment ofdarkness; then there appeared in the middle of the darkness a point oflight, a globe, a giant balloon of color. Suddenly she was looking intothe corner of a stateroom which appeared to hang in space. In the centerof the area stood a handsome young man in a startling black and orangelounging robe, holding on to the back of a chair.

  She opened her eyes; for an instant the vision of the young telepathhung in the air over her couch like a ghostly double exposure. Then itfaded and the room was empty.

  "That's a terrible effort," came his thought, "particularly when I haveto balance on one foot at the same time. Well, now are we even?"

  Abandoning her post by the door, she moved to the couch and sat down."I'm really disappointed," she smiled. "I was sure you'd have two heads.But I think you do have nice eyes and a terrible taste in bathrobes."She took a cigarette from her case and lit it carefully. Then sheremembered her manners and extended the case to the empty air. "Won'tyou have one?"

  "I certainly would like to. I'm all out of them until the steward bringsmy dinner. But I'm afraid I'll have to wait, unless you can blow thesmoke through the ventilators to me, or unless ... you bring me one?"

  Lenore blushed and changed the subject. "Tell me, what do you do all dayin your stateroom? Do you read? Do you play the flute? Do you telepathsweet nothings across the light-years to your girl friend on Dekker'sstar?"

  "I'm afraid my telepathic powers are a bit short-ranged to reachDekker's star," he replied. "Besides, what girl would commune with methrough the depths of space when some other young man is calling herfrom the dancing pavilion? And my musical talents are limited. However,I do read. I brought some books connected with the research I intend todo on Earth for my degree, and I have spent many happy hours poring overthe thrilling pages of _Extraterrestrial Entomology_ and _GalacticArachnida_."

  "I came better prepared than you did," she said. "Perhaps I could lendyou some of my books. I have novels, plays, poetry, and one veryinteresting volume called _Progressive Education under Rim StarConditions_. But," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "I must tell youa secret about that last one."

  "What is it?"

  "I haven't even opened it."

  * * * * *

  They laughed together, her merriment bubbling aloud in her cabin, hisechoing silently inside her mind.

  "I haven't time to read a novel," his thought came, "and drama alwaysbored me, but I must confess to a weakness for poetry. I love to read italoud, to throw myself into a heroic ballad and rush along, spoutinggrand phrases as though they were my own and feeling for a moment asthough I were really striding the streets of ancient Rome, pushing weston the American frontier or venturing out into space in the first wild,reckless, heroic days of rocket travel. But I soon founder. I get sweptaway by the rhythm, lost in the intricacies of cadence and rhyme, and,when the pace slows down, when the poem becomes soft and delicate andthe meaning is hidden behind a foliage of little gentle words, I losemyself entirely."

  She said softly, "Perhaps I could help you interpret some verses."

  Then she waited, clasping her hands to keep them from trembling with thetiny thrill of excitement she felt.

  "That would be kind of you," he said after a pause. "You could read,there, and I could listen, here, and feel what you feel as you read ...or, if you wished ..." Another pause. "Would you care to come down?"

  She could not help smiling. "You're too good a mind reader. A girl can'thave any secrets any more."

  "Now look here," he burst out. "I wouldn't have said anything, but Iwas so lonely and you're the only friendly person I've come in contactwith and ..."

  "Don't be silly," she laughed. "Of course I'll come down and read toyou. I'd love to. What's your cabin number?"

  "It hasn't got a number because--actually I work on this ship so I'maway from the passengers' quarters. But I can direct you easily. Juststart down the hall to your left and ..."

  "My dear sir," she cried, "just wait a minute! I can't come visiting inmy robe, you know; I'll have to change. But while I dress, you must takeyour spying little thoughts away. If I detect you peeking in here at thewrong moment, I'll run straight to Captain Blake and have him preparehis special lead-lined cell for one unhappy telepath. So you just runalong. When I'm ready, I'll call you and you can lead me to your lair."

  He thought only the one word, "Hurry," but in the silence after he wasgone she fancied she heard her heart echoing him, loud in the stillness.

  * * * * *

  She laughed gaily to herself. "Now stop acting like a schoolgirl beforethe Junior Prom. You've got to get busy and wash and dress and comb andbrush." And then to her reflection in the mirror: "Aren't you a luckygirl? You're still millions and billions of miles from Earth and it'sstarting already, and he's going to do research there for some time, andmaybe at the university in your home town if you tell him just how niceit is, and he doesn't know any other girls, you'd have an inside track.Now you'd better get going or you'll never be ready.

  "For reading poetry, don't you think this dress is just the thing, thisnice soft blue one that goes so well with your tan and shows your legs,which are really quite pretty, you know.... And your silver sandals andthose silver pins ... just a touch of perfume.... That's right; and nowa little lipstick. You do have a pretty smile.... There, that's right.Now stop admiring yourself and let's go."

  She moved to the bookshelf, frowning now, considered, selected andrejected. Finally she settled on three slim books bound in russetleather, in glossy plastic, in faded cloth. She took a little purse fromthe table, put the cigarette case into it. Then, with a laugh, she tookone cigarette and slipped it into a tiny pocket on her skirt.

  "I really meant to bring you one," she whispered to the empty air, "butwasn't I mean to tease?"

  In the corridor, she walked quickly past the rows of closed doors to thetiny refreshment stand at the foot of the dining room stairs. Theattendant rose from his stool as she approached, and came to thecounter.

  "I'd like two frosted starlights, please," she said, "on a tray."

  "Two," said the attendant, and nothing more, but his eyebrow climbed uphis forehead, hung for a second, then slowly drooped back to normal, asif to say that after all these years he no longer puzzled about a lovelyyoung girl who came around in the middle of a Wednesday rest period,dressed like Saturday night and smelling of perfume, ordering twointoxicating drinks--when she was obviously traveling alone.

  * * * * *

  Lenore felt a thrill of secret pleasure go through her, a feeling ofpossessing a delicious secret, a delightful sensation of recklessgaiety, of life stirring throughout the sleepy ship, of a web of secretsand countersecrets hidden from everyone but this unconcerned observer.

  She walked back down the corridor, balancing the tray. When a littlesplashed over the rim of the tall glasses, she took a sip from each,tasting the sweet, cold liquid in her throat.
r />   When she came to the head of the stairs, she realized that she did noteven know her telepath's name. Closing her eyes, she said very slowlyand distinctly inside her head, "Mr. Fairheart?"

  Instantly his thought was with her, overpowering, as breathless as anembrace. "Where are you?"

  "At the head of the central stairs."

  "Down you go."

  She went down the stairs, through more corridors, down more stairs,while he guided her steps. Once she paused