It was not, of course, possible for Calhoun to leave immediately. He had to preside at various meetings of the medical officers of the fleet and the health officials of Dara. He had to make explanations, and correct misapprehensions, and delicately suggest such biological experiments as would prove to the doctors of Weald that there was no longer a plague on Dara, whatever had been the case three generations before.
He had to sit by while an extremely self-confident young Darian doctor—one of his names was Korvan—rather condescendingly demonstrated that the former blue pigmentation was a viral product quite unconnected with the plague, and that it had been wiped out by a very trivial epidemic of such and such.
Calhoun regarded that young man with a detached interest. Maril thought him wonderful, even if she had to give him the material for his work. He agreed with her that he was wonderful. Calhoun shrugged and went on with his own work.
The return of loot, mutual, full, and complete agreement that Darians were no longer carriers of plague, if they had ever been—unless Weald convinced other worlds of this, Weald itself would join Dara in isolation from neighboring worlds. A messenger ship had to recall the twenty-seven ships once floating in orbit about Weald. Most of them would be used for some time, to bring beef from Orede. Some would haul more grain from Weald. It would be paid for. There would be a need for commercial missions to be exchanged between Weald and Dara. There would have to be....
It was a full week before he could go to the little Med Ship and prepare for departure. Even then there were matters to be attended to. All the food-supplies that had been removed could not be replaced. There were biological samples to be replaced and some to be destroyed.
Maril came to the Med Ship again when he was almost ready to leave. She did not seem comfortable.
“I wanted you to meet Korvan,” she said regretfully.
“I met him,” said Calhoun. “I think he will be a most prominent citizen, in time. He has all the talents for it.”
Maril smiled very faintly.
“But you don’t admire him.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” protested Calhoun. “After all, he is desirable to you, which is something I couldn’t manage.”
“You didn’t try,” said Maril. “Just as I didn’t try to be fascinating to you. Why?”
Calhoun spread out his hands. But he looked at Maril with respect. Not every woman could have faced the fact that a man did not feel impelled to make passes at her. It is simply a fact that has nothing to do with desirability or charm or anything else.
“You’re going to marry him,” he said. “I hope you’ll be very happy.”
“He’s the man I want,” said Maril frankly. “And I doubt he’ll ever look at another woman. He looks forward to splendid discoveries. I wish he didn’t.”