Sherven continued, "We seem to be a more stable version of what they were: more disposed to cooperate than to compete; to defend weakness rather than exploit it; mutually supportive, where they were adversarial. And I think there are good reasons why this should be so. Consider the two selection processes that occurred to produce very different populations. The Terrans were descended from the few who survived its early catastrophes and its terrors, which they interpreted as the wrath of supernatural beings who judged human actions. Hence emerged a world driven by brutality, ferociousness, and cunning, stemming from irrational beliefs in gods. The result was thousands of years of bloodstained history, culminating in the use of horrific weapons that all but wiped them out." Sherven gave a slight shrug. "Well, as far as Earth was concerned, they
did
wipe themselves out."
"But by this quirk that we now know about, a handful were saved to go through the saga that we have no doubt only glimpsed. They also constituted a selection from which a world would develop, but this time a world of a very different kind. For one thing, these were not technologically primitive like the early Terrans who gazed up, terrified, at the events and apparitions filling their skies. Their line was from what had been a socially selected elite to begin with, who went on to found a starfaring colony that endured, even if it was unable to flourish and spread. When they suffered the lesser calamity caused by Froile, they may have lost their technology and history, but they retained enough rationality not to be carried away by notions of magical gods dispensing retribution. Thus, they avoided the fear and superstition which lay at the root of so much evil on Earth.
"And second, instead of resorting to conflict and rivalry to seize what they could of was left, they brought to their situation the tradition of a spacefaring community and colonizing venture, where the crucial qualities were cooperation and the ability to contribute—the values of life that the Venus we see today represents."
"And which will flourish on Earth too one day," Casselo said. He glanced at the clock display above the screens and then pointedly at Sherven. It was time. Sherven nodded.
He came forward from the window and moved from one to another of the four who were leaving, clasping the shoulders of each with both hands as a gesture of farewell. "A safe and a pleasant journey to you," he told them. "You have all played an invaluable part in work here that will never be forgotten. I look forward to the day when we will be able to welcome you back."
"It won't be long," Kyal said. "And thank you for everything too, Director."
"A life that adds one brick to making the world a better place than you found it is a life that was worth living," Sherven told them all. "Remember that we represent a unique and precious combination that the Terrans contributed to, but which they could never have equaled. That is why the recent trends back home disturbed me. Our culture has no room for the kind of divisiveness among ourselves that destroyed Earth. We have experience of governing our affairs in ways that they never knew. I believe we will command the wisdom to make things succeed this time, by working in combination instead of in conflict. That's as it should be, and has to be. The Universe is vast and dangerous, as our ancestors who tried to live at Eden discovered. Living well and securely with it will demand the best that all of us have to offer. Let us use our heritage wisely. One day, we will go back to the stars. And this time it will be to stay. It's a debt that we owe to those last children of Earth, who came here long ago."
They sat in the midships cabin on C-Deck of the
Melthor Jorg
, watching the disk of Earth the wall display screen, shrinking slowly and looking like a mottled blue-and-white marble. Its moon was partly visible behind, like a bright bump on one side.
The paint on the cabin walls was new, and the floor had been resurfaced. It seemed long ago that Kyal had sat here with Yorim on these same seats, surrounded by a different circle of faces, looking at the same view. But it had been growing larger then. So much had happened since. Then, it had been an enigmatic world of unanswered questions, tragedy, and mystery. There would always be unanswered questions; but now it felt familiar, and in a way, friendly. It would be good to see Venus again, Kyal thought, but he was already looking forward to the day when they would return. The future Scientific Director designated as Sherven's successor was already talking about developing Luna as a construction center and experimental facility for long-range space exploration technology. There would be much to do.
Yorim spoke from where he was sprawled in one of the chairs to the side, next to Mirine. "So what's first on everyone's list of things to do back home?"
Kyal looked at Lorili, shrugged, and made a face. "I hadn't really made a list. We've been too busy. What's on yours?"
Yorim waved a hand vaguely, as if he were raising an imaginary glass. "Oh . . . look up the old faces. See what's new in the neighborhood. Stay away from politics." He didn't seem to have any clear ideas either. Kyal watched his face, still taking in the screen. The look in his eyes seemed wistful. Kyal could almost read his thoughts: picturing Mediterranean beaches and ancient pyramids under blues skies, standing solid and immutable in the sun. He smiled faintly and felt inwardly reassured. Yorim would be coming back.
"Well, one thing you have to do is meet my folks," Mirine told him. "They say they're organizing a big welcome home party. Our family has great parties."
"Sounds good to me," Yorim said neutrally.
"Do yo realize we've never been anywhere we could dance yet? And Kyal says you're a terrific dancer."
"He did?" Yorim stared across. Kyal remained expressionless and kept his gaze averted. Lorili snickered to herself.
"What's that place you were telling me about in Rhombus that had lots of parties and a bar, and dancing?" Kyal asked Lorili.
"The Magic Carpet?"
"That's the one. Amingas Quarles was telling me they're going to open something like that in Pasadena."
"Oh, there are going to be all kinds of places opening up there," Yorim said.
"Next to a lake," Kyal went on. "And they'll have a dining room over the water, with boats. They think the lake might be a bomb crater that goes all the way back to the Terran war."
"A bar. That sounds like a good idea." Yorim looked more interested. "We're going to have something like twelve weeks to get through again. Fancy checking out the place up on E-Deck, and seeing if it's still the same? Remember that Korbisanian cocktail the guy used to mix on the way out? I wonder if he's still there."
"You're making me thirsty. I'll try one," Mirine said.
Yorim unfolded from the chair and sat up. "That settles it then."
Kyal wasn't in a hurry. He and Lorili hadn't had a moment alone all day. Twelve weeks was twelve weeks. "You carry on," he told them. "We'll catch up."
Yorim stood and helped Mirine to her feet. "See you there, then," he said. As they moved away, he said to Mirine, "You know, if we've got all this time on the way back, you ought to think about writing a piece for the magazines about those Terran corpses. . . ."
Kyal sighed luxuriously relaxed back in his chair.
"Nice to be alone at last?" Lorili said.
"It's nice to have friends too. But sometimes . . ." He left it unfinished. Lorili shifted closer and rested her head against his shoulder. "Mm, you smell nice," he told her.
"A scent that I got when we were in Europe. They make it in one of the settlements there. Plants that you don't see on Venus. They need lots of sun. And we're so much closer to it. Funny, isn't it."
Something bright and metallic hanging from Lorili's neck was resting on the arm between their chairs. Kyal reached with a hand and turned it over. "Your mother will be pleased," he said. "Still wearing your katek."
"Of course. Look at the good fortune that it brought me."
Kyal studied it absently. Two converging lines spanned by a pair of bars. A sign from a vanished world, that had once meant Providence. The landing approach of an incoming spacecraft. "And it worked for her too," he said. "It's bringing you back going home."
Lorili lifted the katek from his fingers, looked at it for a moment, and then took his hand. She turned her head and gazed at the image of Earth, still shining on the screen. "No, it will have worked when we come back again together, Kyal," she told him softly. "That's our home now. It always was."