Someone to watch over me

By CHRISTOPHER GRIMM
Illustrated by DICK FRANCIS
In the awfulness of hyperspace, everything was the nightmare opposite of itself ... and here was where Len Mattern found his goal!
Len Mattern paused before the door of the Golden Apple Bar. The elation that had carried him up to this point suddenly wasn't there any more. Lyddy couldn't have changed too much, he'd kept telling himself. After all, it hadn't been so very long since he'd seen her. Now he found himself counting the years ... and they added up to a long time.
But it was too late to go back now. A familiar thought. The commitment was moral only, and to himself, no one else—the same way it had been that other time, the time that had changed the direction of his whole life, and, possibly, of all other lives in his universe as well. There was only one human being with whom he kept faith—himself. Therefore, the commitment was a binding one.
He pushed open the door and went in.
He saw Lyddy at the end of the bar, surrounded by a group of men. Lyddy had always been surrounded by a group of men, he remembered, unless she was up in her room entertaining just one. She half-turned and he saw her face. The sun-pink lips were parted, her eyes still comparable to the heavens of Earth. She stood erect and lithe and slender.
She had not changed at all!
The tension that had built up inside him snapped with the weight of sudden relief. He lurched against a small hokur-motal table. It rocked crazily. The zhapik who owned the Golden Apple came out from behind the carved screen where he'd been sitting segregated from the customers. Many of the zhapiq, who had been native to Erytheia before the Federation took over, owned businesses catering to humans. It might be degrading, but it paid well.
Maybe you've had enough to drink, Captain? he suggested. Maybe you'd like to come back another time?
I haven't had anything at all to drink, Mattern said curtly. What's more, I haven't come for a drink.