Century of the Manikin by E. C. Tubb

Author:E. C. Tubb [Tubb, E. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780575107618
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2011-09-29T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter FIVE

Martha had been restless all evening, almost, Simon thought, as if she were telepathic, able to sense the tumult inside his head, the anxiety and nagging worry. Finally she had gone to bed, leaving him to sit and brood as he watched television, not seeing the moving figures, the colored graphs, but mulling over a dozen plans. All futile, he decided, as he switched off the screen. As futile as watching the late-night Institute. At his time of life trying for a higher education was a waste of time.

Peeping into the bedroom, he caught the gleam of open eyes and entered the room, switching on the moon-glow so as to find his way. He stooped over the bed, remembering to pat the growing bulge, remembering to smile as he said, “Still awake, honey? It’s long past midnight. You want to get circles under the eyes?”

“Would it make any difference if I did?”

“To me, no, I’d love you just as much. But what’s the point in getting haggard? And don’t forget, the way you feel now could affect the boy. We don’t want him growing up with a complex, do we?”

She didn’t answer and he frowned, wondering what could be wrong. Something had to be wrong. Martha was normally cheerful, and usually she told him if anything had happened during the day. But this evening she’d been too quiet.

Sighing, he rose and went to the medcab. More optimism, he decided. He was running at a low ebb and needed a boost. Without looking toward the bed he said, “You want something, honey?”

“A one-way ticket out of here.”

“Are you joking?” He turned, the accentuators forgotten. In three strides he stood at her side. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing I—” She broke off, gnawing at her lower lip. Gently he took her hands, pressed them, his eyes anxious.

“Tell me,” he commanded. “Don’t hold it back, honey. I need to know.”

“It’s nothing,” she insisted. “Just some stupidity.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s just that—Simon, are we so wrong to have a baby?”

“No,” he said. “It isn’t wrong.” Then waited for the dam to break.

“It was clinic day today,” she said dully. “The place was almost empty and there was a crowd of women standing about outside. They didn’t say anything but they made me feel dirty. As if I should be ashamed of myself. The doctor wasn’t much better. He was polite enough, as were the nurses, but it was something in their eyes. I suppose it was always there but I hadn’t noticed it before. A look as if I’d caught some vile disease through my own fault. As if I were a leper, or an idiot. As if I’d hurt someone.”

“His name,” said Simon thickly. “The doctor, what is his name?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “And what does it matter? He was just a face behind a desk. Just a mouth asking questions. And afterward, when I came out of the clinic, the women were still there. Still looking.”

“Jealous,” he said. “Barren cows who couldn’t have a baby to save their lives.

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