social gap? No, the Lochabers aren’t snobs. Nor are we yokels. We’re scientists, carrying out research that is both interesting and necessary.”
“Granted. I don’t want to exaggerate. Still, it was getting to know those friends of yours—a sort of overnight intimacy that never quite happens in their own safe environment—that drove home to me the fact that there is a difference.”
He could not kiss Mary at Moondance. A glassite bulb sealed off her head, maintaining an air pressure that was normal for her. The same pressure was kept in the station’s one small guesthouse; but it took discouragingly long to go through its decompression chamber when one’s own lungs were full of lowland atmosphere. Anyway, she shared it with her brother.
But there were rich compensations. At last he could show her something of his world, that overwhelmingly greatest part of the planet she had known only from reading, pictures, a few stereotyped tours, and his words. During five magical days, she and Ralph could wander with him and Eva through the templelike vastness, intricacy, and serenity of the woods, or go ahorseback on a laughing breakneck hunt, or see how biological engineering joined slowly with hard work and patience to make the soil bear fruit for man, or….
Rakshlight glimmered on the curve of her helmet and the long fair tresses within. It made a rocking bridge across the waters, which lapped against the boat louder and more chucklingly clear than ever waves did in the highlands. Wind had died, though coolness still breathed through the summer air, and the sail stood ghostly. That didn’t matter. Neither he nor she were in any hurry to return.
She asked him: “Where does the name Moondance come from?”
“Well,” he said, “the lake’s big enough to show tides when Raksh is as close as now; and then the reflections gleam and flash around the way you see.”
She caught his hand. “I was thinking,” she murmured, “it ought to be Moon-Dan’s. Yours. To me it always will be. What you’re doing is so great.”
“Oh, really,” he stammered. “I’m just a servant. I mean, the scientists give me instrument packages to plant and collect, experiments and observations to carry out, and I follow orders. That’s all.”
“That is not all, as you perfectly well know. You’re the one who has to cope and improvise and invent, in the face of unending surprises. Without your kind of people we’d forever be prisoners on a few narrow mountaintops. How I wish I could be one of you!”
“Me too,” he blurted.
Was she suddenly as half-frightened as he? She was quick to ask: “Where did Ralph and Eva go?”
He retreated likewise into the casual: “I’m not sure. Wherever, I’d guess their flit will pass over the Cyrus Valley. She’s mighty taken by your car. She’s been faunching to try it out under rough conditions. The updrafts there——”
Her tone grew anxious. “Is that safe?”
“Sure, yes. Eva’s an expert pilot, qualified to fly any vehicle at any air density. This model of yours can’t handle much unlike the H-17, can it? It’s only a modification.” Because there was around him the splendor of his country, he had to add: “You know, Mary, what worries me is not how well the craft performs, but what its engine may signify. I’ve read books about what fossil fuels did to the environment on Earth, and here you’re re-introducing the petroleum burner.”
She was briefly taken aback. “Haven’t you heard?” A laugh. “I guess not. You seem to have other things on your mind when you visit us. Well, the idea is not to replace the hydrogen engine permanently. But petroleum systems are easier to build, with far fewer man-hours; mainly because of fuel storage, you know. Dad thinks he can manufacture and sell them for the rest of his lifetime. By then, there should be enough industrial plants on Rustum that it’ll be feasible to go back to a hydrogen economy. A few hundred
“Granted. I don’t want to exaggerate. Still, it was getting to know those friends of yours—a sort of overnight intimacy that never quite happens in their own safe environment—that drove home to me the fact that there is a difference.”
He could not kiss Mary at Moondance. A glassite bulb sealed off her head, maintaining an air pressure that was normal for her. The same pressure was kept in the station’s one small guesthouse; but it took discouragingly long to go through its decompression chamber when one’s own lungs were full of lowland atmosphere. Anyway, she shared it with her brother.
But there were rich compensations. At last he could show her something of his world, that overwhelmingly greatest part of the planet she had known only from reading, pictures, a few stereotyped tours, and his words. During five magical days, she and Ralph could wander with him and Eva through the templelike vastness, intricacy, and serenity of the woods, or go ahorseback on a laughing breakneck hunt, or see how biological engineering joined slowly with hard work and patience to make the soil bear fruit for man, or….
Rakshlight glimmered on the curve of her helmet and the long fair tresses within. It made a rocking bridge across the waters, which lapped against the boat louder and more chucklingly clear than ever waves did in the highlands. Wind had died, though coolness still breathed through the summer air, and the sail stood ghostly. That didn’t matter. Neither he nor she were in any hurry to return.
She asked him: “Where does the name Moondance come from?”
“Well,” he said, “the lake’s big enough to show tides when Raksh is as close as now; and then the reflections gleam and flash around the way you see.”
She caught his hand. “I was thinking,” she murmured, “it ought to be Moon-Dan’s. Yours. To me it always will be. What you’re doing is so great.”
“Oh, really,” he stammered. “I’m just a servant. I mean, the scientists give me instrument packages to plant and collect, experiments and observations to carry out, and I follow orders. That’s all.”
“That is not all, as you perfectly well know. You’re the one who has to cope and improvise and invent, in the face of unending surprises. Without your kind of people we’d forever be prisoners on a few narrow mountaintops. How I wish I could be one of you!”
“Me too,” he blurted.
Was she suddenly as half-frightened as he? She was quick to ask: “Where did Ralph and Eva go?”
He retreated likewise into the casual: “I’m not sure. Wherever, I’d guess their flit will pass over the Cyrus Valley. She’s mighty taken by your car. She’s been faunching to try it out under rough conditions. The updrafts there——”
Her tone grew anxious. “Is that safe?”
“Sure, yes. Eva’s an expert pilot, qualified to fly any vehicle at any air density. This model of yours can’t handle much unlike the H-17, can it? It’s only a modification.” Because there was around him the splendor of his country, he had to add: “You know, Mary, what worries me is not how well the craft performs, but what its engine may signify. I’ve read books about what fossil fuels did to the environment on Earth, and here you’re re-introducing the petroleum burner.”
She was briefly taken aback. “Haven’t you heard?” A laugh. “I guess not. You seem to have other things on your mind when you visit us. Well, the idea is not to replace the hydrogen engine permanently. But petroleum systems are easier to build, with far fewer man-hours; mainly because of fuel storage, you know. Dad thinks he can manufacture and sell them for the rest of his lifetime. By then, there should be enough industrial plants on Rustum that it’ll be feasible to go back to a hydrogen economy. A few hundred
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