The Big Black Mark - A. Bertram Chandler [64]
"We'll detour through the city," said Mavis. "This is the time I fair love the dump, wif the sun just down an' the street lights comin' on."
Yes, the sun was just dipping below the rolling range to the west, and other stars were appearing to accompany the first bright planet. They drove slowly through the narrow, winding streets, where the elaborate cast-metal balconies of the houses were beginning to gleam, as though luminous, in the odd, soft greenish-yellow glow of the street lights.
"Gas lamps!" exclaimed Grimes.
"An' why not? Natural gas. There's plenty of it—an' we may's well use what's left after the helium's been extracted. An' it's a much better light."
Grimes agreed that it was.
"This is Jersey Road we're comin' inter. The city planners tried to make it as much like the old one as they could. I s'pose it's all been pulled down long since."
"It's still there," said Grimes, "although the old bricks are held together with preservative."
"An' how does it compare?" she asked. "Ours, I mean."
"Yours is better. It's much longer, and the gas lighting improves it."
"Good-oh. An' now we turn off on ter the West Head Road. That's Macquarie Head lighthouse we're just passin'. One lighthouse ter do the work o' two. The main guide beacon for the airport as well as for the harbor." Something big fluttered across their path, just ahead of them, briefly illumined in the glare of the headlights. Grimes had a brief impression of sharp, shining teeth and leathery wings. "Just a goanna," Mavis told him. "Flyin' goannas they useter be called, but as we've none o' the other kind here the 'flyin' part o' the name got dropped. They're good eatin'."
They sped through the deepening darkness, bushland to their left, the sea to their right. Out on the water the starboard sidelight, With a row of white accommodation lights below it, of a big schooner gleamed brightly.
"Taroona," said Mavis. "She's due in tonight. Ah, here's the turn-off. Hold on, Skip!"
The descent of the steep road—little more than a path—down to the beach was more hazardous, thought Grimes, than any that he had ever made through an atmosphere. But they got to the bottom without mishap. Away to their right a fire was blazing, its light reflected from the other vehicles parked in its vicinity. Dark figures moved in silhouette to the flames. There was the music of guitars, and singing.
"Tie me kangaroo down, sport. . ." Grimes heard.
"I got yer here, Skip," said Mavis.
"And in one piece," agreed Grimes.
"Come orf it!" she told him.
Chapter 28
As well as voices and music a savory smell of roasting meat drifted down the light breeze from the fire. Grimes realized that he was hungry. Unconsciously he quickened his step.
"Wot's the hurry?" asked Mavis.
He grinned—but at least she hadn't called him Gutsy Grimes. He said, "I want to join the party."
"Ain't I enough party for yer, Skip? I didn't think you'd be one fer chasn' the sheilas."
Grimes paused to kick his sandals off. The warm, dry sand felt good under his bare soles. He said, gesturing toward the parked cars, "I thought you people used horses for short journeys."
"Yair, we do—but not when we've a crowd o' spacemen along who, like as not, have never ridden a nag in their bleedin' lives."
"I have ridden a horse," said Grimes.
"An' what happened?"
"I fell off."
They both laughed, companionably, and then Grimes stopped laughing. He was able to distinguish faces in the firelight. This, obviously, was not an officers-only party. There was Langer, the burly bos'n, and with him Sergeant Washington. And there was Sally, the little slut of a stewardess who had ministered to the needs of his predecessor in the ship, Commander Tallis. Obviously their hosts were determined to maintain their egalitarian principles. Well, that was their right, he supposed.
"What's eatin' you, Skip?" asked Mavis.
"I'm thinking that it was time that I was eating something."
"Spacemen are the same as sailors, I suppose. Always thinkin' o' their bellies." She raised her voice. "Hey, you drongoes!