And Hull, in whom there was no falsehood, drew her close to him and said nothing.
But Black Margot rode north from Selui through the night. In the sky before her were thin shadows leading phantom armies, Alexander the Great, Attila, Genghis Khan, Tamerlane, Napoleon, and clearer than all, the battle queen Semiramis. All the mighty conquerors of the past, and where were they, where were their empires, and where, even, were their bones? Far in the south were the graves of men who had loved her, all except Old Einar, who tottered like a feeble grey ghost across the world to find his.
At her side Joaquin Smith turned as if to speak, stared, and remained silent. He was not accustomed to the sight of tears in the eyes and on the cheeks of Black Margot.
(All conversation ascribed to the Princess Margaret in this story is taken verbatim from an anonymous volume published in Urbs in the year 186, called “Loves of the Black Flame.” It is credited to Jacques Lebeau, officer in command of the Black Flame’s personal guard.)
DON’T JUMP
Hurtling off the asteroid with only a rope between himself and the endless void of space changed Tim’s perspective on everything. The importance of his job, his relationship with Samantha, it all looked very different from this vantage point. How could I have been so stupid, he wondered. I was just going to let Sam walk out of my life and for what, a crater, a God damn crater. I’m such an ass.
*
Tim Ross woke to the insistent rings of his vid-phone. He glanced at his alarm clock. Four thirty AM. Who the hell would call me at this hour. It’s not Sam, she’s here with me. Tim untangled himself from her, rolled over to the phone, and hit the audio-only button. “Ross here, this had better be good.”
“‘Morning, Ross,” it was Simmons’ voice, “sorry to wake you.”
“What’s the deal?”
“A cruise ship, on route to Titan, ran into some trouble. They’ll be stopping here for repairs.”
“So?”
“While they’re waiting, they’ll be using our facility. You know Toshiba, they weren’t about to let a chance at some extra profits get away.”
“Simmons, it’s four thirty in the morning, I really don’t care about this.”
“Toshiba has put us all back on the duty roster.”
“Sucks being you but how does that affect me?”
“They want to climb down into the crater.”
“And I’m the only qualified guide,” Tim stated.
“You got it, pal.”
“I just finished a climb.”
“Sorry, bud, but you’re on the duty roster.”
“Not according to the employee hand book.”
“All right, you’ve twisted my arm. I’m authorized to offer you triple time.”
“Triple time?”
“The owners of that ship paid a very large sum of money to Toshiba. They expect full use, and I do mean full use, of these facilities.”
“All right, all right, I’ll do it. How long do I have to get ready for them?”
“They’ll touch down at five, they’d like to leave for the crater by six.”
“No way.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look, I just got back from a climb. The batteries in my communicator are dead. The fuel for my jet packs is spent. What the hell am I supposed to do if there’s an emergency?”
“Come on, you never call for back up.”
“I don’t usually work with tourists.”
“These guys’ll know what they’re doing, they were on their way to climb the mountains of Titan.”
“So, they’re experienced climbers, so what? This isn’t Earth, these guys are used to gravity. You know how dangerous tourists are out here.”
“What’s the worst thing they could do? Fall? Big deal. The crater isn’t that deep, with the gravity we have they’d be in more danger of dying from boredom than anything else.”
“Just the same, I’d feel a lot better about this if I was properly equipped. Right now the only things I’ve got enough of are rope, pitons, and propellent charges for the p-gun. If something goes wrong I’m screwed.”
“What do you need?”
“The minimum that regs’ll lets me get away with is a functioning communicator and one jet pack.”
“Let me check my computer. I’ll see what I’ve got.” Tim waited for a moment. “I can get you a battery for your communicator and a jet pack.”
“Simmons, if you weren’t offering me triple time, I’d tell you to stuff it. Can you have supply load up the tram for me?”
“Sure, you need anything else?”
“No, I think that’ll do it.”
“Thanks, Ross, I owe you one.” Simmons broke the connection before Tim could reply.
“I guess that means you’ll be leaving,” Sam’s delicate voice said from the other side of the bed.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Just one of the hazards of dating a space jock.”
“I’ll be back before noon. Sleep in and when I’m back we can grab lunch together.”
“Only if you promise to think about coming home with me next month.”
Tim bit back his quick reply. Sam knew how he felt about going back to earth. She could earn a good living planet-side as a massage therapist, but what was Tim supposed to do, mountain climbers weren’t exactly in demand down there. “I’ll think about it. See you in a few hours.”
Tim leaned over and kissed Sam. She pulled him close and said, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Tim whispered. Then he got out of bed, dressed quickly, and let himself out of the room.
Dragging a comb through his hair, Tim made his way down to the mess for a cup of coffee and a quick breakfast. His mind drifted back to Sam. Why did she have to be so set on going back to Earth? God, the argument had gotten bitter last night. Tim tried to push the memory of it away, but it refused to go.
“Tim, I
