As promised, Mr. Steerforth reported on board shortly after breakfast the following morning. He was tall, blond, deeply tanned, with regular features, startling blue eyes and what seemed to be slightly too many gleaming white teeth. Grimes couldn't be sure, at short acquaintance, whether he liked him or not. He was too much the big ship officer, with too obvious a parade of efficiency. His predecessor, Billy Williams, had been out of the Dog Star Line whose vessels, at their very best, were no more than glorified tramps. (But Williams had always got things done, in his own way, and done well.)
"My gear's on board, sir," said Steerforth briskly. "If it's all right with you I'll nip across to the shipping office and get myself signed on. And then, perhaps, you might introduce me to the other officers, after which you can give me any special instructions. I understand that you are wanting to catch the late afternoon flight to Alice Springs."
"I suppose that the admiral has already given you your instructions," grumbled Grimes.
"The admiral, sir?"
"Come off it, Mr. Steerforth. You know who I mean. Rear Admiral Damien. You're one of his boys."
"If you say so, sir."
"I've said it. All right, go and get your name on the Articles. You should be back in time for morning coffee, when I'll introduce you to the rest of the crowd in the wardroom."
"Very good, sir."
Grimes' next callers were Shirl and Darleen. They knew the ship, of course, having traveled in her, as passengers, from New Sparta to Earth. Certainly they were familiar enough with Grimes' own quarters . . . .
"Hi, John," said Shirl (or was it Darleen?).
"Hi, John," said Darleen (or was it Shirl?).
Had the girls been unclothed Grimes could have told them apart; there were certain minor skin blemishes. But now, dressed as they were in shorts (very short shorts) and shirt outfits they were as alike as two peas in a pod. The odd jointure of their legs was not concealed by their scanty lower garments, their thighs looked powerful (as they were in fact). Wide smiles redeemed the rather long faces under the short brown hair from mere pleasant plainness.
"The Bureau of Colonial Affairs has been looking after us really well," said one of the girls, "but it is good to be back aboard your ship again. The old crocodile has told us that we are to be part of your crew."
The old crocodile? wondered Grimes, then realized that this must be yet another nickname for Admiral Damien.
"He has already made us officers," said Shirl. (Grimes remembered that her voice was very slightly higher than that of Darleen.) "In the Survey Service. But it is supposed to be a secret, although he said that you would know."
"I do," said Grimes.
"And now we are to be officers aboard your ship," Darleen told him unnecessarily.
"And you are to show us the inland of this country of yours, from which our ancestors came. We have seen kangaroos in the zoo in Adelaide, of course, but we have yet to see them in the wild, where they belong. "
"Where we belong," said Darleen, a little wistfully. "You know, John, I have often thought that that genetic engineer, all those hundreds of years ago, did the wrong thing when he changed our ancestors . . . ."
"If he hadn't changed them," pointed out Shirl, "we shouldn't be here now."
"I suppose not." Darleen's face lit up with a smile. "And it is good being here, with John."
"Mphm," grunted Grimes.
The three of them caught the afternoon flight from Woomera to Alice Springs.
Grimes loved dirigibles, and a flight by airship in charming company was an enjoyable experience. He had a few words with an attentive stewardess, scribbled a few words on the back of one of his business cards for her to take to the captain and, shortly thereafter, he and the two New Alicians were ushered into the control cab. The girls stared out through the wide windows at the sunburned landscape flowing astern beneath them, with the greenery around irrigation lakes and ditches in vivid contrast to the dark browns of the more normal landscape, peered through borrowed binoculars at the occasional racing emu, exclaimed with delight as they spotted a mob of kangaroos. But the shadows cast by rocks and hillocks were lengthening as the sun sagged down to the horizon. Soon there would be nothing to see but the scattered lights of villages and townships.
"This must seem a very slow means of transport to you, Captain," said the airship's master. "After all, when you're used to exceeding the speed of light . . . "
"But not with scenery like this to look at, Captain," said Grimes.
"The two young ladies seem to be appreciating it," said the airshipman. "They're not Terran, are they?"
"No, although their ancestors were both Terran and Australian. They're from a world called New Alice."
"The name rings no bell. Would it be one of the lost colonies?"
"Yes."
"I saw a piece on trivi about Morrowvia a few months ago . . . . The world of the cat people . . . . If I ever save enough for an off-planet holiday I might go there. Say, wasn't it you who discovered, or rediscovered, that Lost Colony?"
"Not exactly. But I was there during the period when it was decided that the Morrowvians were legally human."
The airship captain lowered his voice. "And these young ladies with you . . . . From New Alice, you say. Would they be the end result of some nutty experiment by some round the bend genetic engineer?"
Shirl and Darleen possessed abnormal, by human standards, hearing. They turned as one away from the window to face the airshipman. They smiled sweetly.
"Yes, captain," said Shirl. "Although we are legally human our ancestors were not, as yours are, monkeys."
If the captain was embarrassed he did not show it. He looked them up and down in a manner that suggested that he was mentally undressing them. He grinned at them cheerfully.
"Tie me kangaroo down, sport," he chuckled. "I shouldn't mind gettin' the chance to tie you down!"
"You could try," said Darleen slowly.
"And it could be the last thing you ever did try," said Shirl.
They were still smiling, the pair of them, but Grimes knew that it was more of a vicious baring of teeth than anything else.
The airshipman broke the tense silence.
"Excuse me, ladies. Excuse me, Captain. I'd better start thinkin' about gettin' the old girl to her mooring mast at the Alice." He addressed his first officer. "Mr. Cleary, confirm our ETA with airport control, will you? Ask 'em about conditions—surface wind and all the rest of it . . . ."
Why tell me to do what I always do? said Cleary's expression as plainly as spoken words.
"Shall we get out of your way, now, Captain?" asked Grimes.
"Oh, no, Captain. Just keep well aft in the cab." He managed a laugh. "Who knows? You might learn something."
But it wasn't the airshipman's day. He bumbled his first approach to mast, slid past it with only millimeters of clearance. He had to bring his ship around to make a second try. He blamed a sudden shift of wind for the initial bungle but he knew—and Grimes knew-—that it was nothing of the kind. It was no more and no less than the result of an attempt to impress a hostile female audience.