World without Stars Read Free

know as well as beget the child, I hurt at her pain.
    My wife half rose. “’Scuse me, mistress,” Valland said. “Don’t you think best we chase the dreams off for good before we put
     her to sleep?”
    She looked doubtful. “I been around a while,” Valland said apologetically. “Not a father myself, but you can’t help pilin’
     up observations. C’mere, little lady.” He held out his arms and I passed Wenli to him.
    He set her on his lap and leaned back from the table, letting the plate keep his food warm. “All right, my friend,” he said,
     “what kind of dreams?”
    She was at a shy stage of life, but to him she explained about blobby monsters that wanted to sit on her. “Well, now,” he
     said, “I know a person who can take care of that. Let’s ask him to come give a hand.”
    “Who?” Her eyes got quite round.
    “Fellow name of Thor. He has a red beard, and he drives in a wagon pulled by goats—goats are animals with horns and long
long
whiskers—and the wheels make thunder. You ever heard thunder? Sounds like a boat takin’ off in a terrible hurry. And Thor
     has a hammer, too, which he throws at trolls. I don’t think those blobby characters will stand a chance.”
    I started to open my mouth. This didn’t look semantically right to me. Lute laid a warning hand on mine. Following her gaze,
     I saw that Wenli had stopped shivering.
    “Will Thor come if we ask?” she breathed.
    “Oh, yes,” Valland said. “He owes me a favor. I helped him out once when he got into an argument with an electrostatic generator.
     Now let me tell you more about him.”
    Afterward I learned that the tall tale he went on to relate came from Earth, in days so old that even the books are forgetting.
     But Wenli crowed and clapped her hands when Thor caught the snake that girdles the world. Lute laughed. So did I.
    Finally Valland carried Wenli back to bed, fetched his omnisonor, and sang to her. The ballad was likewise ancient—his translation—but
     it bounced right along, and before he had finished cataloguing the improbable things that should be done to the drunken sailor,
     my daughter was asleep with no machine needed.
    We came back to the ’fresher room. “Sorry to poke in like that,” Valland said. “Maybe you should’ve curbed me.”
    “No.” Lute’s eyes glowed. “I’ve never seen anyone do anything better.”
    “Thanks. I’m a childish type myself, so—Hoy, meant to tell you before, this is one gorgeous piece of steak.”
    We went on to brandy and soda. Valland’s capacity was epical. I suppose Lute and I were rather drunk toward the end, though
     we wouldn’t have regretted it next day if our idea had been workable. We exchanged a glance, she nodded, and we offered our
     guest our total hospitality.
    He hadn’t shown much effect of alcohol, beyond merriment. Yet now he actually blushed. “No,” he said. “Thanks a million, but
     I got me a berth in dock country. Better get down there.”
    Lute wasn’t quite pleased. She has her human share of vanity. He saw that too. Rising, he took her hand and bowed above it.
    “You see,” he explained with great gentleness, “I’m from way back. The antithanatic was developed in my lifetime—yes,that long ago; I shipped on the first star craft. So I have medieval habits. What other people do, fine, that’s their business.
     But I’ve only got one girl, and she’s on Earth.”
    “Oh,” Lute said. “Haven’t you been gone from her for quite a time, then?”
    He smiled. “Sure have. Why do you think I want to return?”
    “I don’t understand why you left in the first place.”
    Valland took no offense. “Earth’s no place for a live man to live any more. Fine for Mary, not for me. It’s not unfair to
     either of us. We get together often enough, considerin’ that we’ll never grow old. Between whiles, I can remember …. But goodnight
     now, and thanks again.”
    His attitude still seemed peculiar to me. I’d have to check