LINC'S sixteenth birthday came while he was out in space at Grayling. Julie gave him a tie clip in the design of an anvil. "Because I know you'll create it in metal some day," she told him. It was the perfect gift. Linc had no idea where she had gotten it. This was the first time he'd had a birthday gift from anyone outside his immediate family—and that had been only when he was a kid.
They had met for lunch in the cafeteria in North Tower, where Julie worked. She was helping with the tending of patients now. Linc had completed his construction basics and was in a day of free time before starting a class on remote-directed space-assault robots. The joke among the other cadets was that he should have been teaching it.
"How's Arvin doing?" Linc asked across the table as he dug his fork into a plate of mixed salad. Cliff and Nancy had been kept under observation in the sick bay until the previous day, and then released. Linc had received an E-mail from Nancy's parents in Maine, thanking him for what he had done. They also sent one to Arvin to let him know they didn't hold him accountable for the accident. Nancy had no doubt sent them a line giving all the news. Although the authorities that ran Grayling didn't go out of their way to publicize their activities, personnel there were not expected to cut themselves off from the world. Censorship wouldn't have been consistent with what the Outzone was all about.
"He's doing okay," Julie replied. "The doctor saw him this morning. It wouldn't surprise me if he's up and about this afternoon. It'll be a while before he can use that arm properly again, though."
"It's good he's so much better." Linc speared a green olive and ate it.
Julie eyed him over her sandwich. "Does this mean the standoff that's been going on between you two might finally be over? It'd be about time."
"Hey, I seem to go through this with everybody. Talk to him about it, not me. I've been approachable all the time." Linc shook his head. "He's still got some kind of problem. I've given up trying to figure it."
"So might you if you had to walk around Seville Trace with your face looking like a peach that got run over," Julie said, chiding mildly.
"Don't try to hang that one on me. It was squaring up an account that needed squaring. He knew that."
"Was it really that important?"
"It's the way I do business." Linc started to look irritable.
Julie smiled resignedly and reached across to squeeze his hand. "Let's not spoil lunch by going off into all that now, especially on your birthday," she said. "The Armstrong will be arriving in less than two weeks. Then we'll be on our way at last. Let's think about that."
Linc stared at her, then let go of the tenseness that had started building for a moment and grinned. He chewed a mouthful of salad and squeezed her hand back. It felt soft and smooth, tempting all the impulses of the age he was at. But he had held off from pushing things in that direction. They hadn't talked much about it. There seemed to be an unspoken understanding that it was something they both wanted to save until their new life in the Outzone began. Maybe it was silly to even think about at such an age, but the possibility had crossed Linc's mind of starting a family when they got there. Or was it silly only by the standards of the dying culture they were leaving? Nature and biology's opinion on the matter was clear. By all accounts, the need for people in the Outzone was insatiable, and marriages and pairings were encouraged at ages that would be considered preposterous, unnatural even, on Earth. Perhaps that was what drew people there unconsciously, instinctively—especially young people. The spirit that drove the Outzone was that of life and birth and growth. What lay behind was slowly succumbing to stagnation, decay, and death.
Three cadets at the far end of the room got up to leave. "Watch it guys, it's the hero," one of them said as they came to the table where Linc and Julie were sitting. The other two walked by muttering:
"Hero, hero . . . ."
"Hero, hero . . . ."
One of them gave Linc a light, approving clap on the shoulder as he passed. This would go on for a few days yet, Linc could see. He shook his head and looked at Julie helplessly. She smiled and let go of his hand to resume eating her sandwich.
"It's going to be so different out there," she said. "Think of it—where people value the things that are actually worth something. On Earth they've forgotten how to make everything except money. But what good is it if there's nothing worthwhile left to buy?"
Linc stared at her. Wasn't that about what Dr. Grober had said in different words? It seemed an eternity ago now. And the mysterious "Mr. Black" at Coulie? . . . Angelo had said it in deeds, not words. It was the first time Linc had gotten the feeling he was beginning to understand what they had meant.