The Ship Who Sang Read Free

well-coordinated and adjusted young men, looking forward to a slightly drunken evening, Helva permitting, and all quite willing to do each other dirt to get possession of her.
    Such a human invasion left Helva mentally breathless, a luxury she thoroughly enjoyed for the brief time she felt she should permit it.
    She sorted out the young men. Tanner’s opportunism amused but did not specifically attract her; the blond Nordsen seemed too simple; dark-haired Al-atpay had a kind of obstinacy with which she felt no compassion; Mir-Ahnin’s bitterness hinted an inner darkness she did not wish to lighten, although he made the biggest outward play for her attention. Hers was a curious courtship – this would be only thefirst of several marriages for her, for brawns retired after 75 years of service, or earlier if they were unlucky. Brains, their bodies safe from any deterioration, were indestructible. In theory, once a shell-person had paid off the massive debt of early care, surgical adaptation and maintenance charges, he or she was free to seek employment elsewhere. In practice, shell-people remained in the service until they chose to self-destruct or died in line of duty. Helva had actually spoken to one shell-person 322 years old. She had been so awed by the contact she hadn’t presumed to ask the personal questions she had wanted to.
    Her choice of a brawn did not stand out from the others until Tanner started to sing a scout ditty, recounting the misadventures of the bold, dense, painfully inept Billy Brawn. An attempt at harmony resulted in cacophony and Tanner wagged his arms wildly for silence.
    â€˜What we need is a roaring good lead tenor. Jennan, besides palming aces, what do you sing?’
    â€˜Sharp,’ Jennan replied with easy good humor.
    â€˜If a tenor is absolutely necessary, I’ll attempt it,’ Helva volunteered.
    â€˜My good
woman
,’ Tanner protested.
    â€˜Sound your “A”,’ laughed Jennan.
    Into the stunned silence that followed the rich, clear, high ‘A,’ Jennan remarked quietly, ‘Such an A Caruso would have given the rest of his notes to sing.’
    It did not take them long to discover her full range.
    â€˜All Tanner asked for was one roaring good lead tenor,’ Jennan said jokingly, ‘and our sweet mistress supplied us an entire repertory company. The boy who gets this ship will go far, far, far.’
    â€˜To the Horsehead Nebula?’ asked Nordsen, quoting an old Central saw.
    â€˜To the Horsehead Nebula and back, we shall make beautiful music,’ said Helva, chuckling.
    â€˜Together,’ Jennan said. ‘Only you’d better make the music and, with my voice, I’d better listen.’
    â€˜I rather imagined it would be I who listened,’ suggested Helva.
    Jennan executed a stately bow with an intricate flourish of his crush-brimmed hat. He directed his bow toward the central control pillar where Helva
was.
Her own personal preference crystallized at that precise moment and for that particular reason: Jennan, alone of the men, had addressed his remarks directly at her physical presence, regardless of the fact that he knew she could pick up his image wherever he was in the ship and regardless of the fact that her body was behind massive metal walls. Throughout their partnership, Jennan never failed to turn his head in her direction no matter where he was in relation to her. In response to this personalization, Helva at that moment and from then on always spoke to Jennan only through her centralmike, even though that was not always the most efficient method.
    Helva didn’t know that she fell in love with Jennan that evening. As she had never been exposed to love or affection, only the drier cousins, respect and admiration, she could scarcely have recognized her reaction to the warmth of his personality, and thoughtfulness. As a shell-person, she considered herself remote from emotions largely connected