Buck turned around and took a few steps away from them, looking back toward the desolate rubble. Wilma promptly stepped up beside him again. "Is this the Johnson Space Center?" she asked.
Buck nodded, then sighed. "No. No, it isn't. Not anymore. You should have seen it, Wilma. Mission control, all the training complexes, the experiments, the activity. It was like its own city." He waved a hand at the few people still around. "They have no idea. None of them. Nobody even knows it was ever here except me. Even you were guessing; I could tell. And it's just a name to you. Doesn't mean anything." His shoulders sagged a little under the weight of 500 years of displaced time again.
Wilma gripped his arm, trying to let him feel the connection to the present. She remembered when he had been feeling so isolated and alone over his first birthday in this time. The party really had seemed to cheer him up, and of course, the mission and being useful had done more to snap him out of it. But somehow, she didn't think arranging a "happy acquittal" party would be such a good idea, and life-saving missions couldn't just be manufactured at will. The timing of the plot against Dr. Huer had been pure coincidence. The Searcher's current mission had them doing not much but traveling for the next week before they came to a likely quadrant to explore and Buck would have a chance at a mission. Also, as tough as his first birthday in this century had been on him, she knew that the trial had been far more stressful. He was in a worse place mentally right now than he had ever been back at that birthday. How could she get his mind on something else at the moment besides what he had lost?
Hawk had come up on the other side, and he broke the silence that was lengthening over the three of them. "So much was lost from my culture, too, and all of my people gone. All except me. I, too, am one of a kind. You are the one who reminded me how necessary it is to keep looking forward, Buck."
Buck gave a faint smile. "I know. And you're right. It's just...he really thought that. Jim. The others; he probably told at least a few others. People I knew, I worked with and respected. People who respected me. They're not only lost; they also died thinking I did it. That's hard to come to grips with, no matter what the verdict was yesterday. I kept dreaming about him last night, at least until I gave up on sleeping."
Wilma tightened her grip on his arm, but his words reminded her of more practical considerations. He was not only stressed out; he was exhausted, still hadn't had any rest worth having for nearly three days now, and she doubted he had remembered to eat today at any point at all. His physical condition was only adding to his frame of mind at this point. She could at least start helping that.
"Buck, let's head back into New Houston and get something to eat." He tensed up, starting to protest, and Hawk backed her up.
"We do not need to stay out here past dark. And we do need to eat; Wilma and I never stopped for lunch. We've been chasing you all day." Hawk didn't add that he was sure Buck hadn't stopped for lunch, either, nor had breakfast before leaving.
Buck abruptly gave up, something that worried both of them a little. "Okay. Might as well; there's nothing out here anyway. Not any more." He kicked at the nearest piece of rubble, then turned toward the starfighter, starting walking so quickly that it took them a few steps to catch up to him.
They packed tightly into the starfighter, and Wilma asked Buck if he wanted to fly. She was hoping he did; she knew he loved flying. Tonight, though, he declined. He was nearly silent during the short hop back to the space port, his eyes scanning the terrain they were leaving, even though it was getting dark enough now that he couldn't see much.
They landed and parked the craft, then walked out into the busy city. Wilma couldn't help noticing the difference now that they were inside the environmental bubble. The sky was dark here, too, but there were lights and activity all around, and the temperature was perfect. "Where do you want to eat?" she asked.
Buck shrugged. "I don't even know what's here. This is your world."
"Yours, too," she insisted. She picked a restaurant at random, and the three of them settled at a table. She ordered an actual meal, not food discs, even though that made it much more expensive. Buck still protested that he wasn't hungry, but once the food came and he started eating, his body took over for him. He was the first one done out of the three of them, polishing off every bite. He looked at the empty plate in surprise.
"Guess I was hungry after all."
"When was the last time you really ate?" she asked. He hadn't done much more than pick at meals during the breaks in the trial, either.
He took a minute to think it over, trying to reach an answer, and Hawk shook his head. "If it's that hard to recall, it's been too long. Now, we need to find a room to rent for the night," he suggested. "We've all had a long day."
Buck put up some token resistance, but it wasn't much. He was visibly sagging a little by now. Wilma rented a room for them, and she talked Buck into taking a hot shower. While he was in there, she used the communicator station on the wall, adding a subspace call to their bill and contacting the Searcher. "We found Buck," she reported. "We're not coming back right away, though."
"Is he all right?" Asimov asked.
"Not really," she replied. "He's worn out tonight. I'm hoping he can get some actual sleep, and that might help with working on processing things tomorrow."
"Well, good luck, Colonel," he replied, and Twiki threw in a final comment just before the link closed.
"Bidibidibidi. Tell him to keep his chin up." The screen went blank.
"I wish I knew quite what to tell him," she said to Hawk.
"A good night's sleep will help all of us," he said. "We will be able to think better in the morning." He looked around. The rental room had two small beds in it, plus a chair. He settled down in the chair. "You two can have the beds. I can sleep anywhere."
"It's kind of small, but I didn't want to get two rooms," she said. "Harder to escape from two of us than one just in case he tried that later."
Hawk nodded. At that moment, Buck emerged from the shower, looking half asleep already. He noticed Hawk's position at once. "We should have gotten a room for each of us. That would be more comfortable."
"No." Wilma and Hawk replied in unison.
Buck grinned. "I might almost think you two don't trust me." He stretched out on one of the beds. "Whoever is next in line for the shower, go ahead." Hawk and Wilma held a silent consultation with their eyes, and then Hawk stood up and retreated to the bathroom.
Wilma sat down on the edge of the other bed, but the two were close enough, just a small nightstand between, that she could reach out across the gap and touch his arm. She had noticed that even while trying to act independent, he had settled down on the side closest to her, moving toward his friends, not away. She ran her hand up and down his upper arm soothingly. "I do trust you, Buck," she said. "Both of us do."
His eyes were half closed, but he smiled, and it wasn't a deflection this time. "I know. Thanks."
"You deserve it. I meant what I said the other night. There is no man I've ever respected more." He seemed to relax a little on the words, and by the time Hawk rejoined them, he was already asleep.
"Your turn," Hawk said softly.
Wilma stood up. "I'm not sure what to do," she admitted. She hated the words. Even on minor things, she liked being organized and efficient, and this was far from minor.
"For tonight, we rest," Hawk said. "He isn't alone in this. Neither are you."
She decided that was as good advice as any for the moment. She was tired herself; she only hoped Buck was exhausted enough to truly sleep tonight. She went on to the shower, leaving Hawk on guard, and as she closed the bathroom door, she took one last look at Buck. He lay absolutely still, beyond even dreams for the moment. With a sigh, she closed the door and tried to make herself relax under the hot water. Tomorrow would come soon enough.