The Enigma Score

the Jam … the Jam … the Presences, and somebody tried to sing them through and couldn’t and everybody got squashed and ripped apart and … well, you know. It was bloody and awful.’ Her voice was a choked gargle.
Well, of course it was, an inner voice said. As you should have known, silly girl. He pulled her to him and quelled the voice sternly, annoyed with himself. Her hysteria was real. She had been genuinely upset by the drama. Sympathy was called for rather than his increasingly habitual impatience. ‘Hey, forget it. All past history and long gone. Now that you’re pregnant, you need more cheerful influences.’ With a flourish, he produced his surprise. ‘Here, something I picked up.’
‘Oh, Tasmin!’ She slipped the ribbon to one side and tore at the paper, pulling the stuffed toy from its wrappings and hugging the gray-green plush of the wide-eyed little animal. ‘It’s so cunning. Look at that. A viggy baby. I love it. Thank you.’ She stroked the feathery antennae, planting a kiss on the green velour nose.
He suppressed the happy comments he had been about to make. The toy had been intended for the baby, a symbol of expectation. He should have said something to that effect before she opened it. Or perhaps not. She was more pleased with it than a baby would be.
He tried with another gift. ‘Except for a preceptor trip next month, I’ve told the Master General I won’t be available for any extended duty until after the baby comes. How about that?’
‘I wish it was already next month,’ she went on with her own thoughts, only half hearing him.
‘Why? What’s next month?’
‘Lim Terree is coming to do a concert. Less than three weeks from now. I really want to hear that …’
Lim Terree.
He heard the name, then chose not to hear it. Not to have heard it.
Instead, he found himself examining Celcy’s smooth lineless face, staring at her full lips, her wide bright eyes, totally unchanged by their five years of marriage. She was so tiny, he chanted to himself in his private ritual, so tiny, like a doll. Her skin was as smooth as satin. When they made love, he could cup each of her buttocks in one of his hands, a silken mound. When they made love his world came apart in wonderful fire. She was his own sweet girl.
Lim Terree.
She was pregnant now. An accident. The doctor had told them she couldn’t possibly get pregnant unless she took the hormones he gave her, but she wouldn’t take the drug. Could not, she said. It made her sick. Impossible that she could be pregnant, and yet she was. ‘Sometimes these things happen.’ A miracle.
Tasmin was amazed at his own joy, astonished at his salesmanship in convincing her it would be fun to have a child of their own. Too soon for a test yet, but he hoped for a son. Celcy wouldn’t mind his caring for a boy, but she would probably hate sharing him with a little girl. ‘Fear sharing him,’ he told himself, remembering his mother’s words. ‘Not hate, fear.’
He coughed, almost choking. He couldn’t just go on staring at his wife and ignoring what she had said. He had to respond. ‘When did you hear he was coming?’
‘There are big posters down at the Center. “Lim Terree. Jubal’s entertainment idol. Straight from his triumphant tour of the Deepsoil Coast.” I got his most recent cube and it’s wonderful. I don’t know why you couldn’t do concert versions, Tasmin. Your voice is every bit as good as his. He started as a Tripsinger, too, you know.’
He let the implications of this pass. It wasn’t the first time she had implied that his profession was not very important, something that anyone could do if they were foolish enough to want to. Mere Tripsinger was in her tone if not in her words, betraying an ignorance shared by a significant part of the lay population on Jubal. She was wrong about Lim, though. He hadn’t been a Tripsinger, mere or otherwise.
Lim Terree.
‘I know him,’ he said, his voice sounding tight and unnatural. ‘He’s my brother.’
‘Oh, don’t make jokes,’ she said, the petulant expression back on her face. For a moment she had forgotten her recent neglect. ‘That’s a weird thing to say, Tasmin.’
‘I said he is my brother. He is. My older brother. His real name is Lim Ferrence. He left Deepsoil Five about fifteen years ago.’
‘That’s just when I got here! He was a Tripsinger here?’
Not really, he wanted to say. ‘You were only a school-child when he left. And yes, he did some trips out of here.’
‘Did he really do the Enigma? Everyone says he did the Enigma.’ She was suddenly eager, glowing.
It was hard to keep the resentment out of his voice.
‘Celcy, I don’t know who “everyone” is. Of course Lim didn’t sing the Enigma. No one has ever got by the Enigma alive.’
She cocked her head, considering this. ‘Oh, people don’t always tell the truth about things. Tripsingers are jealous of each other. Maybe he went with just a small group and got through, but it was never recorded or anything.’
He made a chopping, thrusting-away gesture that she hated, not realizing he had done it until he saw her face. ‘Lim Terree did not do the Enigma trip. So far as I remember he led two caravans east through the Minor Mysteries, one out to Half Moon and back, and one through the Creeping Desert to Splash One on the Deepsoil Coast and that was it. He didn’t come back from that one.’
‘Four trips?’ She gave him a skeptical look, making a mocking mouth. ‘Four trips? Come on, Tasmin. Sibling rivalry, I’ll bet. You’re jealous of him!’ Then she hastily tried to undo some of the anger he realized he had let show in his face. ‘Not that I can blame you. He’s so good looking. I’ll bet the girls mobbed him.’
Not really, he wanted to say again. They