Chapter VI

The day of the Changing of the Wives came to the ship. It was a very important ritualistic day, held, always, three weeks and one day before the Festival of the Casting Off.

The morning of the day, Nestir spoke to the assembled complement. He explained its symbolic importance: he explained its historic development; he delivered, _in cretia ultimatum est_, an exegesis on the _Jarcon_. And then he took off the cloak of priestcraft and cast it to the floor. "For I am," he said, "Ah, a man as you are men."

Then, being no longer empowered to pronounce a benediction (under normal conditions, the function of a younger priest), he left the cheering members of Flight Seventeen A and sped directly to his stateroom.

The afternoon passed uneventfully. The complement of the ship moved about their routine chores tingling in anticipation of the evening.

At the evening meal, a new seating arrangement was instituted at the insistence of the steward and the third mate. The newly formed couples were to sit side by side.

To accomplish this, it was necessary to set two extra plates in the officers' mess. One, for Wanda, next to the third mate; and one, for Joanne Marie, beside the captain.

"Please pass the meat," the third mate said.

Nestir handed it across to him.

"Thank you, Father."

"Today, _in culpa res_, I no longer have that honor," Nestir reminded him. "The blood-red cloak of priestcraft will never again touch my shoulders this side of the Reward."

"I'd be a little sad," said the steward.

"Oh, I don't know," the third mate said.

"It probably all depends," Helen, the wife of the second mate, agreed.

"Hit's a far, far better thing _I_ do," the first mate said sonorously. He was a little drunk.

The captain speared one pea and ate it. "I envy you," he said, looking over at Joanne Marie.

Wanda Miller, who had already upset her glass of water in the third mate's lap, said, "Pass the biscuits, hey.... You uns have better'n we do."

"No," said the steward, "not at all, my dear. We eat the same as the crew."

"Yes; precisely so," the third mate said.

"Except ours is fixed up a little differently," said Jane.

"An' our cook can't fry an aig," the first mate said.

"I wouldn't say that," said the captain.

"Shucks," Joanne Marie said, "anybody can fry an aig."

"On the contrary, Madam. I recall once, when I was a political adviser for the Kong regime...."

"Do you mean mea-Kong?" the steward asked.

"No, that was in Koltah."

"Yes," Nestir said. "I am very familiar with them. They...."

"That's not the one I meant," the captain snapped.

Nestir leaped to his feet. "Well!" he said loudly. "I'm through eating."

"Oh, come now, old man. There's no hurry, really, y'know," the captain insisted gently.

"Ain't there?" Joanne Marie asked. "Gee. I can see you sure ain't like my husband. I mean my ex." She giggled.

"Well, I guess I'm finished, too," Jane said. "Well. Good night, Harry."

"Good night, dear."

* * * * *

In the mess hall, the lights were out. The figure of the captain loomed like a stark obelisk in the gloom.

"Captain, sir, we uns uv been sittin' here at this table fur hours an' hours. I'm gettin' purty tired us sittin'."

"It's not long until the Festival," he said.

"When the mess boy cleared away all them dishes, I thought shore you'd leave, then."

"Oh, no," said the captain. "This is very exciting."

"It ain't, the way I see it," Joanne Marie said.

"Different perspective, Madam. Doubtless you would not have considered it very exciting either, the time I ran a wagon train from Tamask-Cha. You see, the material was to be delivered on a mining contract. Madam, I can assure you it was hot. The only road was a narrow line across the Ubiq desert. And late the first evening...."

"I can see it warn't very exciting," Joanne Marie said.

Silence returned.

"I am getting sleepy," the captain said at length.

"Oh, I'm usually awake this late. Shucks, I'm used to it. Sometimes I jest get ta sleep when it's time ta get up. But I do wish we'd go to bed."

"Madam, your language!"

"All I said was...."

"I know; I know," the captain said. "Madam, come to my stateroom. You may sleep on the sofa."

"Weeeel," Joanne Marie said, "I ain't a-sayin' that. I know my rights."

"Let us not be difficult. I am certain, when I explain to you in a logical fashion the obvious impossibility of--of--"

"You got no wife?"

"No," he said.

"Yeah. I thought not. That sure is swell."

"Madam. Perhaps I can say it this way. I have certain perturbations, but I can assure you, whatever you attempt my aim is inflexible. For me, the Captain, to--ah--consort with a crew woman is preposterous."

"Is that what you call it? Now that's a funny word. My husband calls it--"

"_Madam!_"

Joanne Marie was cowed into silence. They walked directly to his stateroom.

Once inside, Joanne Marie said, "Now ya jest sit down, comfortable like. I got somethin' I want to tell ya."

"No," the captain said.

"I ain't even told ja yet."

"It won't matter," the captain said.

"My husband don't like me," she said.

He dropped his head into his hands and sighed deeply. Then he looked up, his face set in icy resignation.