The Wind

Schoenhauer walked slowly back from the transport stop down the road. It wasn't far from his house but the air was hot and dusty and he was starting to feel his age. He had meant to drop in on his daughter but their houses were a mile apart and the armload of groceries he carried seemed unusually heavy. Megan met him at the gate and took one of the bags. The wind whipped around him but he pulled the scarf from his mouth so she could see him smile. They walked around to the kitchen door where he followed her through the membrane and sat down at the table. This was his favorite part of coming home. He and Megan had met the year that his wife died. He had spent three years in the city. He called them his 'story years' because they had supplied him with adventures to tell anyone who would take the time to listen, though that was mostly Megan.

Now she was rummaging through the bags he had brought back from town and attempting to appear casual.

"Oh good, a ripe avocado. I'll use this in the salad tonight. What are these washers for? Is there something wrong with the pump?" She emptied the bags item by item while he squirmed in his chair, trying not to laugh. Finally he couldn't stand it anymore and he pulled a small box out of his overalls and tossed it on the table.

"You're as bad as a kiddo," he said.

She snatched up the box and gave him a look. "And you're a mean old tease. You know I love it when you bring a present." Megan opened the box and took out a small, blue pill. "Tribuzine! Is it this months?"

Schoenhauer nodded.

"Oh, thank you! I'll take it after dinner." She put the pill back in the box and slipped it in her pocket. Schoenhauer enjoyed making her happy and she enjoyed letting him. She would have been just as enthusiastic if the box had contained a rock. She listened to his stories and he brought her little gifts. The symbiotic nature of their relationship was obvious to both of them. If they never talked about love it was because they never had to.

After dinner Megan took the Tribuzine. She sat in her easy chair, her eyes glazed and far away, and tried to describe what she saw.

"There's war in the 51Pegasus outposts again. The Senate wants to tax all nitrogen transports so it's good we've finally got the waste conversion barn set up. Here comes movie news. Oh dear. Palmer and Stephanie have split up again."

Schoenhauer pushed himself out of his chair and put his coat on.

"I'm off. Goin' over to Ann's," he said. The dominant language on Epsilon7 was English but Schoenhauer's English was flavored with the thick, rural European of his Earth-born parents.

Megan waved. "Don't stay long. They have their own lives, you know."

Schoenhauer's daughter was just putting away the dinner dishes when she was startled by a knock at the door. The sound of the wind had covered the sound of footsteps. She glanced at the I.D. panel and switched off the barrier, turning the back door membrane from orange to blue.

"Evening Ann."

"Dad."

Schoenhauer sat down at the table. "Is Robert home?"

"He's off at the launch port. Pie?"

Schoenhauer pinched a roll of fat and looked at his protruding stomach. "I could maybe have a little slice. He's not gambling again is he?"

"I don't know, Dad. We've talked about it but he doesn't seem to be able to quit. He just gets so bored."

Ann set a large piece of pie on the table. Schoenhauer took her hand and held her there so that he could look at her face. He saw fear in her eyes; fear of loss and loneliness.

"It's this place," he said. "It's no good for a young man. There's nothing here but dust and farms and wind. The wind alone could drive you crazy. Meg and me are used to it but you kids met at college where there was parties and movies and such. You shouldn't be living out here with us old folks."

"I know. Robert wants to move back to Epsilon3 but I don't want to leave you."

"And Meg," he said.

"Yes. And Meg."

She sat in the chair next to him. The texture of his heavy, rough-hewn hand was familiar and reassuring. "We couldn't afford to move now anyway."

"You both have college. I bet you could find good jobs on Epsilon3. Meg took a Tribuzine tonight. I'll ask her to recite the job ads for you tomorrow."

He let go of her hand and picked up his fork but he had to force himself to eat the pie. Sadness had robbed him of his appetite.

Schoenhauer was sitting on a big bag of chicken feed, his shirt drenched in sweat, when Robert entered the barn carrying a thermos of cool beer.

"The women sent me out here with this. God, it's hot in here!"

"Sit and have a drink with me. I want to talk a little."

"I should get those wind vanes back up but..."

Robert didn't want to talk to Schoenhauer. He wasn't in the mood for another lecture on responsibility but he had been raised to respect his elders so he sat on a box and opened the beer.

"Robert, I got some money saved up that I was gonna use to buy a new harvester for you and Ann.

"Harvester, eh? That'd be good."

Schoenhauer continued, "But I wonder if maybe that money wouldn't be better spent helping you kids move to the Epsilon3 colony."

"Ann wouldn't go. We've talked about it but she doesn't want to leave you and Meg."

"I'll talk to Ann. Epsilon3 has all the things you young people like to do. I lived there for a few years myself."

"When you were a line cutter at the old launch port there?"

"Yeah. Cutters made good money back then and I got free rides on the cargo ships. You and Ann both got college. You could do pretty well if you had a little stake to start you out."

Robert stared sullenly down at a dust beetle burrowing between his feet.

"I owe some guys a little money. I gotta pay them first."

Schoenhauer took a long pull from the thermos so he wouldn't have to look at Robert. He had worried that this might happen and now he wasn't sure how to handle it. In his whole life he had never once been really afraid of anything but now he was afraid for Ann. He had to be careful not to blow up at Robert. Nothing would be solved by anger.

"Those guys what run the gambling are dangerous. You don't wanna mess with them. How much?"

"Just a couple hundred. I can sell my scoot to a guy I know."

"All right, but if you need help you come to me. No more gambling now, okay? I guess Ann likes you pretty good and she'd be sad if you was to get yourself knocked off."

Robert smiled. "All right. You'll talk to her about Epsilon3?"

Schoenhauer tossed him the beer. "Sure."

Schoenhauer sat up slowly and strained to hear. The wind was howling outside but he thought he heard a transport door close. Two of the moons were still up and the light coming through the window illuminated Megan's face. She was still asleep. In repose her face was characteristic of her make and model. It was when she was awake that the illusion of life was complete. Looking at her, Schoenhauer thought that he was very fortunate. Surely no other simulated companion could be as intelligent or as caring as Megan. He slid out of bed and grabbed his pants off the dresser as he went out of the room.

Down by the road, next to a single seat transport, Robert stood talking to a tall man dressed in shiny, black body armor. Schoenhauer waved to them as he approached. Robert looked nervous. Schoenhauer ignored him and focused on the man.

"Some kinda trouble, maybe?"

"Go back to bed, Pops. Bobby and I are almost finished here."

Robert's voice was shaky. "This is the guy I owe the money to."

"Money he doesn't seem to have; do you Bobby?"

"You the gambler, eh. How much does he need?"

The man turned to face Schoenhauer. "He's 700 short."

Schoenhauer took a credit rod from his pocket, input his code, and looked at the man.

"Thanks, Pops. Input eleven, star, three, three." He turned toward Robert. "I still have to..."

Schoenhauer grabbed the shoulder strap on the man's body armor and pulled. The strap broke. His time as a line cutter for a cargo rocket line had given him an intuitive feel for danger and years of back-breaking farm labor had added muscle to his already stocky frame. Schoenhauer took the man's right hand and squeezed until it opened. The man squealed as the bones in his thumb and index finger broke. A small, green cube fell in the dust. Schoenhauer ground it under his heel. The man stood up and tried to strike Schoenhauer with his good arm. Schoenhauer jerked down on the trapped hand, pulling the man off balance and into his rising elbow. The man collapsed. Schoenhauer peeled the body armor off the gambler, picked him up and stuffed him into the little transport.

"You don't have to do nothing except go home." He tossed the body armor in after the gambler, pushed the homing lever and slammed the door. The transport hummed off into the night.

Robert bent down and looked at the ruins of the green cube. Schoenhauer stopped him before he touched it.

"What is it?"

Schoenhauer poked the green chips with the toe of his boot. Underneath was a small, dead insect with a green and yellow striped body. Slowly, the wind covered it with dust.

"We used to call them paral-worms. They burrow under your skin real quick-like. Their dung paralyzes you. They only live about a month but while they're alive you don't move. Cargo workers show me how to use them in bar fights."

Robert's face lost its color. In the moonlight he looked as pale as a chicken feather. Schoenhauer slapped him on the back.

"Let's go to bed. Big day tomorrow."

When Schoenhauer got home Megan was up. They sat at the kitchen table and he told her what had happened while she rubbed liniment on the cuts left by the body armor strap.

"We got to move those kiddos to Epsilon3. That Robert's not a farmer. He's going to get in more trouble. Maybe get Ann in trouble too. Tomorrow I sell some equipment, get them a little money."

"You'll miss them."

Schoenhauer touched Megan's soft hand to his cheek.

"I'll be okay. I'm not so young as I used to be and I got to see that Ann's happy. Besides," he looked into her eyes and smiled. "I got no reason to squawk." He settled back in his chair. "Y'know, that gambler fella reminds me of the time I helped run cargo back to one of the old 51Pegasus colonies. We had finished unloading and we was in this bar..."

Winter on Epsilon7 was just as hard as summer. Instead of dust the wind blew snow, whipping and whirling it and piling it up in banks along the fence line. Schoenhauer was shoveling out the feed lot for the second time that day. He stopped to catch his breath and a wave of wistfulness washed over him. He missed Ann and Robert but they had both found work in the city and were doing fine. Ann had beamed them that morning with the news that he was going to be a grandfather. He was so pleased that he barely noticed the weakness in his arm until he dropped the shovel. He shooed some chickens out of the way and bent over to pick it up. He fell to his knees and then, like a great ship slowing into the dock, lay on his side in the snow. His last thoughts were of Megan, and he opened his mouth to call for her.

Megan had been watching Schoenhauer from the kitchen window and when he fell she ran out to him. She knew before she touched him that he was gone but she pulled open his coat and listened to the silence in his chest. She lay next to him and put his arm around her shoulders. She thought about what her life would have been like without his callused hands to give her a little touch or pat or caress. His stories had bonded them as audience and performer. They had been each other's comfort in this wind torn outpost. She couldn't have asked for a better companion and she knew that she would never want to be with another. Ann was gone and would soon be raising her own child. She was sure that Schoenhauer wouldn't mind. She pried open a small plate in her neck and leaned up to kiss Schoenhauer's frozen cheek. She yanked out the wire that fed current to her brain and pulled Schoenhauer's arm tight around her shoulders. The wind whirled around them and snow began to pile up against her back.