The Songs of Distant Earth (20 page)

002. WOULD THE CAPTAIN PLEASE GIVE THE LATEST ESTIMATE OF PROBABLE MISSION SUCCESS

003. WHY NOT REVIVE A REPRESENTATIVE SAMPLE OF THE SLEEPERS TO POLL THEIR OPINION

004. WHY NOT ASK THE LASSANS WHAT THEY THINK. IT’s THEIR WORLD

With total secrecy and neutrality, the computer stored and numbered the inputs from the Council members. In two millennia, no one had been able to invent a better way of sampling group opinion and obtaining a consensus. All over the ship – and down on Thalassa – men and women were tapping out messages on the seven buttons of their little one-hand keypads. Perhaps the earliest skill acquired by any child was the ability to touch-type all the necessary combinations without even thinking about them.

Loren swept his eye across the audience and was amused to note that almost everyone had both hands in full view. He could see nobody with the typical far-off look, indicating that a private message was being transmitted via a concealed keypad. But somehow, a lot of people were talking.

015. WHAT ABOUT A COMPROMISE? SOME OF US MIGHT PREFER TO STAY. THE SHIP COULD GO ON

Kaldor rapped for attention.

“That’s not the resolution we’re discussing,” he said, “but it’s been noted.”

“To answer Zero Zero Two,” Captain Bey said – barely remembering in time to get a go-ahead nod from the chairman, “the figure is ninety-eight per cent. I wouldn’t be surprised if our chance of reaching Sagan 2 is better than that of North or South Island staying above water.”

021. APART FROM KRAKAN, WHICH THEY CANT DO MUCH ABOUT, THE LASSANS DON’T HAVE ANY SERIOUS CHALLENGES. MAYBE WE SHOULD LEAVE THEM SOME. KNR

That would be, let’s see … Of course – Kingsley Rasmussen. Obviously he had no wish to remain incognito. He was expressing a thought that at one time or other had occurred to almost everyone.

022. WE’VE ALREADY SUGGESTED THEY REBUILD THE DEEP SPACE ANTENNA ON KRAKAN TO KEEP IN TOUCH WITH US. RMM

023. A TEN YEAR JOB AT THE MOST. KNR

“Gentlemen,” Kaldor said a little impatiently, “we’re getting away from the point.”

Have I anything to contribute? Loren asked himself. No, I will sit out this debate; I can see too many sides. Sooner or later I will have to choose between duty and happiness. But not yet. Not yet .

“I’m quite surprised,” Kaldor said after nothing more had appeared on the screen for a full two minutes, “that no one has anything more to say on such an important matter.”

He waited hopefully for another minute.

“Very well. Perhaps you’d like to continue the discussion informally. We will not take a vote now, but during the next forty-eight hours you can record your opinion in the usual way. Thank you.”

He glanced at Captain Bey, who rose to his feet with a swiftness that showed his obvious relief.

“Thank you, Dr. Kaldor. Ship’s Council terminated.”

Then he looked anxiously at Kaldor, who was staring at the display screen as if he had just noticed it for the first time.

“Are you all right, Doctor?”

“Sorry, Captain – I’m fine. I’ve just remembered something important, that’s all.”

Indeed he had. For the thousandth time, at least, he marvelled at the labyrinthine workings of the subconscious mind.

Entry 021 had done it.
“The Lassans don’t have any serious challenges.”

Now he knew why he had dreamed of Kilimanjaro.

39. The Leopard in the Snows

I
’m sorry, Evelyn – it’s been many days since I last talked to you. Does this mean that your image is fading in my mind as the future absorbs more and more of my energies and attention?

I suppose so, and logically I should welcome it. Clinging too long to the past is a sickness – as you often reminded me. But in my heart I still can’t accept that bitter truth.

Much has happened in the last few weeks. The ship has been infected with what I call the
Bounty
Syndrome. We should have anticipated it – indeed, we did, but only as a joke. Now it’s serious, though so far not too serious. I hope.

Some of the crew would like to remain on Thalassa – who can blame them? – and have frankly admitted it. Others want to terminate the whole mission here and forget about Sagan 2. We don’t know the strength of this faction, because it hasn’t come out into the open.

Forty-eight hours after the Council, we had the vote. Although of course the balloting was secret, I don’t know how far the results can be trusted: 151 were for going on; only 6 wanted to terminate the mission here; and there were 4 undecideds.

Captain Bey was pleased. He feels the situation’s under control but is going to take some precautions. He realizes that the longer we stay here, the greater the pressure will be not to leave at all. He won’t mind a few deserters – “If they want to go, I certainly don’t want to keep them,” was the way he put it. But he’s worried about disaffection spreading to the rest of the crew.

So he’s accelerating shield construction. Now that the system is completely automatic and running smoothly, we plan to make two lifts a day instead of one. If this works out, we can leave in four months. This hasn’t been announced yet. I hope there are no protests when it is, from the New Lassans or anyone else.

And now another matter that may be completely unimportant but which I find fascinating. Do you remember how we used to read stories to each other when we first met? It was a wonderful way of getting to know how people really lived and thought thousands of years ago – long before sensory or even video recordings existed …

Once you read to me – I had not the slightest
conscious
memory of it – a story about a great mountain in Africa, with a strange name, Kilimanjaro. I’ve looked it up in Ship’s Archives, and now I understand why it’s been haunting me.

It seems that there was a cave high up on the mountain, above the snow line. And in that cave was the frozen body of a great hunting cat – a leopard. That’s the mystery: no one ever knew what the leopard was doing at such an altitude, so far from its normal territory.

You know, Evelyn, that I was always proud – many people said vain! – about my powers of intuition. Well, it seems to me that something like this is happening here.

Not once but several times, a large and powerful marine animal has been detected a long way from its natural habitat. Recently, the first one was captured; it’s a kind of huge crustacean, like the sea scorpions that once lived on Earth.

We’re not sure if they’re intelligent, and that may even be a meaningless question. But certainly they are highly organized social animals, with primitive technologies – though perhaps that’s too strong a word. As far as we’ve discovered, they don’t show any greater abilities than bees or ants or termites, but their scale of operations is different and quite impressive.

Most important of all, they’ve discovered metal, though as yet they seem to use it only for ornament, and their sole source of supply is what they can steal from the Lassans. They’ve done this several times.

And recently a scorp crawled up the channel right into the heart of our freezing plant. The naive assumption was that it was hunting for food. But there was plenty where it came from – at least fifty kilometres away.

I want to know what the scorp was doing so far from home; I feel that the answer may be very important to the Lassans.

I wonder if we’ll find it before I begin the long sleep to Sagan 2?

40. Confrontation

T
he instant that Captain Bey walked into President Farradine’s office, he knew that something was wrong.

Normally, Edgar Farradine greeted him by his first name and immediately produced the wine decanter. This time there was no “Sirdar”, and no wine, but at least he was offered a chair.

“I’ve just received some disturbing news, Captain Bey. If you don’t mind, I’d like the prime minister to join us.”

This was the first time the Captain had ever heard the president come straight to the point –
whatever
it was – and also the first time he had met the PM in Farradine’s office.

“In that case, Mr. President, may I ask Ambassador Kaldor to join me?”

The president hesitated only a moment then he replied, “Certainly.” The captain was relieved to see a ghost of a smile, as if in recognition of this diplomatic nicety. The visitors might be outranked – but not outnumbered.

Prime Minister Bergman, as Captain Bey knew perfectly well, was really the power behind the throne. Behind the PM was the cabinet, and behind the cabinet was the Jefferson Mark 3 Constitution. The arrangement had worked well for the last few centuries; Captain Bey had a foreboding that it was now about to undergo some major perturbation.

Kaldor was quickly rescued from Mrs. Farradine, who was using him as a guinea pig to try out her ideas for redecorating the President’s House. The prime minister arrived a few seconds later, wearing his usual inscrutable expression.

When they were all seated, the president folded his arms, leaned back in his ornate swivel chair, and looked accusingly at his visitors.

“Captain Bey – Dr. Kaldor – we have received some most disturbing information. We would like to know if there is any truth in the report that you now intend to end your mission here – and
not
at Sagan 2.”

Captain Bey felt a great sensation of relief- followed instantly by annoyance. There must have been a bad breach of security; he had hoped that the Lassans would never hear of the petition and Ship’s Council – though perhaps that was too much to expect.

“Mr. President – Mr. Prime Minister – if you have heard such a rumour, I can assure you that there is absolutely no truth in it. Why do you think we are hoisting six hundred tons of ice a day to rebuild our shield? Would we bother to do that if we planned to stay here?”

“Perhaps. If for some reason you’ve changed your mind, you would hardly alert us by suspending operations.”

The quick rejoiner gave the captain a momentary shock; he had underrated these amiable people. Then he realized that they – and their computers – must have already analysed all the obvious possibilities.

“True enough. But I’d like to tell you – it’s still confidential and not yet announced – that we plan to double the rate of hoisting to finish the shield more quickly. Far from staying on, we plan to leave early. I had hoped to inform you of this in more pleasant circumstances.”

Even the prime minister could not completely conceal his surprise; the president did not even try. Before they could recover, Captain Bey resumed his attack:

“And it’s only fair, Mr. President, that you give us the evidence for your – accusation. Otherwise, how can we refute it?”

The president looked at the prime minister. The prime minister looked at the visitors.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible. It would reveal our sources of information.”

“Then it’s a stalemate. We won’t be able to convince you until we really do leave – one hundred and thirty days from now according to the revised schedule.”

There was a thoughtful and rather gloomy silence; then Kaldor said quietly: “Could I have a brief private talk with the captain?”

“Of course.”

While they were gone, the president asked the prime minister: “Are they telling the truth?”

“Kaldor wouldn’t lie; I’m certain of that. But perhaps he doesn’t know all the facts.”

There was no time to continue the discussion before the parties of the second part returned to face their accusers.

“Mr. President,” the captain said, “Dr. Kaldor and I both agree that there is something we should tell you. We’d hoped to keep it quiet – it was embarrassing and we thought the matter had been settled. Possibly we’re wrong; in that case, we may need your help.”

He gave a brief summary of the Council proceedings and the events that had led up to them and concluded, “If you wish, I’m prepared to show you the recordings. We have nothing to hide.”

“That won’t be necessary, Sirdar,” the president said, obviously vastly relieved. The prime minister, however, still looked worried.

“Er – just a minute, Mr. President. That doesn’t dispose of the reports we’ve received. They were very convincing, you’ll recall.”

“I’m sure the captain will be able to explain them.”

“Only if you tell me what they are.”

There was another pause. Then the president moved towards the wine decanter.

“Let’s have a drink first,” he said cheerfully. “Then I’ll tell you how we found out.”

41. Pillow Talk

I
t had gone very smoothly, Owen Fletcher told himself. Of course, he was somewhat disappointed by the vote, though he wondered how accurately it reflected opinion aboard the ship. After all, he had instructed two of his fellow conspirators to register Noes, lest the – still-pitiful – strength of the New Thalassan movement be revealed.

What to do next was, as always, the problem. He was an engineer, not a politician – though he was rapidly moving in that direction – and could see no way of recruiting further support without coming out into the open.

This left only two alternatives. The first, and easier, was to jump ship, as close to launch-time as possible, by simply failing to report back. Captain Bey would be too busy to hunt for them
–
even if he felt inclined – and their Lassan friends would hide them until
Magellan’s
departure.

But that would be a double desertion – one unheard of in the closely-knit Sabra community. He would have abandoned his sleeping colleagues – including his own brother and sister. What would they think of him, three centuries hence on hostile Sagan 2, when they learned that he could have opened the gates of Paradise for them but had failed to do so?

And now the time was running out; those computer simulations of up-rated lifting schedules could have only one meaning. Though he had not even discussed this with his friends, he saw no alternative to action.

But his mind still shied away from the word sabotage.

Rose Killian had never heard of Delilah and would have been horrified to be compared to her. She was a simple, rather naive Norther who – like so many young Lassans – had been overwhelmed by the glamorous visitors from Earth. Her affair with Karl Bosley was not only her first really profound emotional experience; it was also his.