Pete signaled the waiter, gave him his card, pulled back Sarah's chair.
They parted outside the restaurant. Sarah went directly home and was hard at work on her speech when she remembered Vinn Stern. She punched in the number of his hotel. The call began to ring in his room.
"Sarah, please," Sheba's voice said.
She jerked back from the communicator.
"We need you, Sarah," Ruth said urgently. "Don't ignore us like this."
"Vinn Stern," a male voice said.
"Mr. Stern," Sarah said weakly.
"You're back."
"With less than satisfactory news," she said. She went on to give him a full report.
"Vinn," said Sheba, "listen to me, please. Help us. Help all of us."
"That's a very good imitation of Sheba, Mrs. de Conde," Vinn said bitterly.
"Vinn, Sarah," Sheba said, "only you can help us. The two of you."
Sarah switched off the communicator with a shaking hand. "All right," she said. "That's it. That's all. I won't have any more. I am not insane and I don't intend to be. I am going to work on my speech, I'm going to give it, and for the next six weeks I'm going to campaign night and day."
In her mind there was a surprisingly vivid image of Sheba weeping.
"Damn it, Sheba," Sarah said loudly, looking around, "where are you?"
"You know, " Sheba said. "You know, Sarah. "
For six weeks Sarah was busy with handshakings and speeches and media interviews. She was willing to appear anywhere two or more people gathered who were interested in the state of T-Town's schools. She attended an awards ceremony for Petey's Space Scout troop and shook hands with all of the parents. She sent Frenc off on her camping trip. She talked half a dozen times with Vinn Stern. He was still in T-Town, for what reason Sarah couldn't imagine. She had begun to wonder if Vinn was just another of the hard-smitten fans who often made attempts to get close to Sheba.
In the last frenzied week she managed to put everything out of her mind. On election day she visited polling places and shook hundreds of hands. She lost the election by less than five thousand votes. Pete threw a
"victory" party.
"My wife lost an election," he said, "but I won a wife."
The little gathering was at home. Their closest friends were there.
When Vinn Stern showed up, Sarah was surprised.
"He seems to be so concerned about Sheba," Pete said. "I guess I felt sorry for him, so I invited him."
Vinn didn't get a chance to talk with Sarah alone until late in the evening. Sarah had celebrated with three glasses of a very fine Selbelese wine.
"I was sorry to hear that you lost the election by such a close margin,"
Vinn said.
"As opposed to losing it by a large margin?" she asked.
He laughed. "If my speech is a bit imprecise, blame it on your husband.
He keeps insisting that I sample still another new wine."
"I feel a bit imprecise myself," Sarah admitted. "As for losing, the professional politicians told me that they were amazed that I did so well.
They say that if I continue to work hard for the next four years I'll be sureof election next time."
"And?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.
"Four years is a long time and I have three kids to raise."
"I'm sure you'll do a splendid job of it," he said. "Look, can we talk?"
"About what?" she asked, although she knew what he meant.
He looked at her intently. "It wasn't you imitating Sheba that day on the communicator."
"No."
"Do you hear her voice often?"
"Yes." Had it not been for the wine she would not have admitted it.
"You?"
"Constantly. Ever since I came to Tigian City."
"And not before that?" she asked.
"No."
She mused over that information for a moment, then smiled. "Well, if I'm going crazy, so are you," she said. "It's impossible, you know, this business of Sheba—and the others—speaking to me—to us—across time and space."
"But she does," Vinn said with intensity, leaning toward her. "I can't help but believe that she's in serious trouble."
"There's nothing we can do," Sarah said.
"I have been in contact with a mercenary," he said. "He owns a reconditioned scout. Not big, but well rigged and well armed."
"Don't," she said quickly. "Three ships missing in the same volume of space are enough."
"I love Sheba, Mrs. de Conde."
"Yes, I know," she said, lulled away from any suspicion of him by his obvious sincerity. "And how does Sheba feel about you?"
He spread his hands. "She seems to like me."
"Still—"
"Mrs. de Conde, I want you to understand how desperate I am to ask you this. Chartering a mercenary ship is expensive, and I'm a man who lives on a salary—of which there isn't one at the moment. One way or the other I'm going out there."
"It's a big galaxy," she said.
"But not big enough for me to get away from her voice begging me to help."
"I know."
"Will you help me?" he asked.
She was silent for long seconds. "Yes. How much?"
"Fifty thousand credits."
"Well, I can't take that much out of the household accounts. I'll have to talk with Pete."
"Will you, please?"
"Fifty thousand credits is pretty steep," Pete said. "I can private charter one of the company ships for half that price."
"A freighter?" Sarah asked.
"An executive liner," he said.
"Mr. Stern sets great store by the fact that the mercenary ship is well armed."
"Our Zede subsidiaries believe in going armed," Pete said. "I cancharter one of their mining exploration ships. It'll be equipped with anything Mr. Stern thinks might be necessary."
"Thank you for not laughing at me," Sarah said.
"I would never do that." He took her hand. "I've been watching you, my dear. You're a bit off your feed. You're losing weight, and I like you just the way you are."
"The election," she said.
"No. You thrive on that kind of pressure. My guess is that it's the worry about your family."
"I do worry."
"Well, tell your Mr. Stern that I'll order a Zede vessel in here as quickly as one can be made available." He scratched his chin. "On second thought, send him to see me so that we can discuss armament and other needs.
He's quite a fellow, you know. Science boffin. Big brain. He's mainly a computer type, but he's been around. Did some time with X&A weapons development when he was first out of university."
"I didn't know."
"Since we can't send the Rimfire and the whole fleet out, I guess sending Stern is our best bet to ease your mind about your folks."
"Thank you, Pete."
He grinned. "Well, you ought to know that even after all the years we've been married all you have to do is ask."
"I have one more request," she said.
"Shoot."
"I want to go with Mr. Stern."
He chewed on his lower lip for long moments. "All right," he said. "We need a vacation."
"We?"
"You don't think I'm going to send my sexy wife off alone into space with a handsome stud like this Stern fellow."
"I don't want to take you away from your work."
"Don't worry about it. Listen, my old man used to tell me, 'Pete, there's nothing more important in this life than looking after your own.' All of my people are dead, but your folks are mine by marriage, and they're important to me not only because I like them, but because you love them."
He came around the desk and kissed her lightly.
"Now get the hell out of here so I can put in a call to the Zede office. Go get packed or something. Don't forget to put in my motion sickness pills.
You know how I hate it when a ship blinks."