The Lovers   ::   Фармер Филип Хосе

'And I told them my dreams – my subjective time-traveling.'

'Soopji 'tiw?'

'Fi. Everybody travels in time subjectively. But the Forerunner is the only man, except for his first disciple and his wife and a few of the scriptural prophets, who has traveled objectively.

'Anyway, my dreams were beauties – architecturally speaking. Just what they liked to hear. My last, and crowning, creation – or lie – was one in which the Forerunner himself appeared on Ozagen and spoke to the Sandalphon, Macneff. That event is supposed to take place a year from now.'

'Oh, Hal,' she breathed. 'Why did you tell them that?'

'Because now, maw sheh, the expedition will not leave Ozagen until that year is up. They couldn't go without giving up the chance of seeing Sigmen in the flesh as he voyages up and down the stream of time. Not without making a liar of him. And of me. So, you see, that colossal lie will make sure that we have at least a year together.'

'And then?'

'We'll think of something else then.'

Her throaty voice murmured in the darkness by the seat, 'And you would do all that for me...'

Hal did not reply. He was too busy keeping the gig close to the rooftop level. Clumps of buildings, widely separated by woods, flashed by. So fast was he going that he almost overshot Fobo's castlelike house. Three stories high, medieval in appearance with its crenellated towers and gargoyle heads of stone beasts and insects leering out from many niches, it was no closer than a hundred yards to any other building. Wogs built cities with plenty of elbow room.

Jeannette put on the long-snouted nightmask; the gig's door swung open; they ran across the sidewalk and into the building. After they dashed through the lobby and up the steps to the second floor, they had to stop while Hal fumbled for the key. He had had a wog smith make the lock and a wog carpenter install it. He hadn't trusted the carpenter's mate from the ship because there was too much chance of duplicate keys being made.

He finally found the key but had trouble inserting it. He was breathing hard by the time he succeeded in opening the door. He almost pushed Jeannette through. She had taken her mask off.

'Wait, Hal,' she said, leaning her weight against his. 'Haven't you forgotten something?'

'Oh, Forerunner! What could it be? Something serious?'

'No. I only thought,' and she smiled and then lowered her lids, 'that it was the Terran custom for men to carry their brides across the threshold. That is what my father told me.'

His jaw dropped.