Starborne (18 page)

“
Is he so power-hungry that he would want a second term, do you think?”
Julia says.

“
Nobody in his right m
ind would want a second term,”
Paco tells her. “
Or even a first one. But is he necessarily in his right mind? Are any of us? Would anyone in his right mind have agreed to go on this voyage in the first place?”

Calmly Heinz, who is playing a game with Sylvi
a at the far side of the lounge, says, “
My opinion is that a second term is the last thing he wants. I think he would very much prefer to be part of the landing party, and, as Chang says, having a second term would disqualify him from joining that. So he
i
ntends to step down. But if he does, who are we g
o
ing to elect in his place?”

The question lands with sudden force among them, like a fist sla
m
ming down on everyone
’
s gaming board. There is a long moment of surprised silence in the lounge. Has this abruptl
y become an impromptu nominating convention? In that case, why is no one speaking out?

“
What about you, Heinz?”
Chang says at last.

“
Don
’
t speak foolishness. I
’
m not a reliable person. Not in the way a captain needs to be.”

“
Well, then, who would you sugge
st?”

“
I
’
m not suggesting anyone. I simply raised the question.”
Heinz looks around at each of the others. “
What about you, Sylvia? A year as captain
—
why not? You don
’
t have any other urgent responsibilities at this stage in the voyage. Or you, Paco? You sa
y you wouldn
’
t want the job, but you
’
d be a nice contrast with him, all sound and fury in place of chilly Nordic restraint. And what about Sieglinde, maybe? She
’
d nom
i
nate herself, I suspect, if we gave her half a chance.”
They all laugh at that. Sieglinde
is not a popular member of the expedition. “
Or you, Huw,”
Heinz says, grinning and pointing at the heavy-set red-faced Welshman. “
You
’
d make a damned good captain.”

“
No. Not on your life. If I took the job, I would then face the same problem that he does,
of the year-captain
’
s not being permitted to take part in a planetary exploration mission,”
Huw reminds him. “
And this entire conversation began with my question about the possible makeup of the planetary landing mission, if there is indeed to be one. Of
course I
’
m intending to be part of it. So obviously there
’
s no chance I
’
d let myself be put forth for captain.”

“
Who would we pick, then?”
someone asks.

Again, silence. There is no clearly apparent consensus candidate and they all know it. They have all be
come accustomed to the captaincy of the incumbent in these eleven months; he seems well fitted to the role, and it seems a useful employment of his strange restless intensity. Many have voiced the hope that he will simply remain in office, which would spa
r
e the rest of them the bother of having to do the job and also keep him safely busy. Which is why discussions of the upcoming expiration of the year-captain
’
s term have been few and far between, and why this one has rapidly petered out.

Huw says, “
If we ma
y return to the question of the makeup of the landing party, now
—”

“
Play your stone, Huw,”
Leon grunts.

Huw flamboyantly sweeps a black stone out of the pile of loose ones and slaps it almost without looking against the board, capturing a little group of L
eon
’
s that evidently had been left undefended for some time now. Leon gasps in surprise. Huw says, addressing the others, “
The e
x
ploration team ought to consist, I would think, of three people, no more, no less. Obviously we can
’
t send one person down alon
e, and two is probably too few to deal with the risks that might arise. On the other hand, we mustn
’
t risk any big percentage of our total complement in any landing. Three is probably the right number.”

“
You
’
ve put a lot of thought into this, haven
’
t you?”
Leon says sou
r
ly.

Huw ignores him. “
The ideal exploration party, it seems to me, would include one biologist, one planetographer, and, of course, one man to operate and do necessary maintenance work on the vehicle the party uses. The year-captain is the e
xpert on alien biologies: he
’
s an o
b
vious choice, though we could send Giovanna or even Elizabeth if for some reason the year-captain can
’
t or won
’
t go. As for the planetogr
a
pher
—”

“
I don
’
t think we should let any women be part of the group,”
Paco says firmly.

The unexpected remark cuts across Huw
’
s line of discourse so co
m
pletely that Huw falls silent and his mouth gapes open two or three times, fishlike. Everyone turns to stare at Paco. He is beaming in a very self-satisfied way, as though h
e has just demonstrated the existence of a fourth law of thermodynamics.

There are four women in the lounge: Julia, Innelda, Giovanna, Sy
l
via. Julia and Innelda and Giovanna seem too astonished to reply. It is Sylvia, finally, who speaks up. “
Bravo, Paco!
What a marvelously m
e
dieval idea! The bold brave knights go forth to check out the country of the dragons, and the ladies stay home in the castle. Is that it?”

Paco
’
s self-congratulatory glow dims. He gives her a surly look.

“
That
’
s not what I mean at all,
”
he says.

“
No?”

“
No. It
’
s purely a matter of genetic diversity, don
’
t you see?”
The room has become very quiet. Paco hunches forward and begins to count off points on his fingers. “
Look: we have twenty-five live wombs on board, to put matters in the most
basic possible way. Twenty-five wal
k
ing ovum banks, twenty-five potential carriers of fetuses. That is to say, we
’
ve got only you twenty-five women available among ourselves with which to get the population of New Earth started. There
’
s plenty of sperm ava
ilable around here, you know. One man could fertilize a whole army of women, if necessary. It
’
s potential mothers who are scarce, and we don
’
t want to make them any scarcer. Each woman on board repr
e
sents an irreplaceable four percent of all the women we
’
l
l be bringing to the new world. Each of you is an irreplaceable pool of genetic info
r
mation, in other words. And an instrument of embryo nurture. The chance of losing even one of you on a risky exploration mission is too big a gamble to take. Q.E.D.”

Innel
da and Julia and Giovanna begin to speak all at once. But it is Sylvia
’
s light, clear voice that carries through the hubbub:

“
You
’
re an idiot, Paco. One live womb more or less, as you so pre
t
tily put it, one instrument of embryo nurture, won
’
t make any sta
tistical difference in the long run. The handful of fertile men and women aboard this ship aren
’
t going to be a significant factor in populating New Earth, and you know it. What really matters is the gene bank downstairs and the
ex utero
genetic machinery.
We
’
ve got barrels of fertile ova stored safely away down there. And plenty of sperm too, thank you. That
’
s where the genetic diversity of New Earth is going to come from, not from us. Naturally we don
’
t want to lose any members of the expedition, but to
c
laim that the women of the voyage are such sacred and special carriers of life that it
’
s folly to risk them in a planetside mission is no
n
sense, Paco, downright stupid nonsense!”

“
So you
’
ll volunteer for the first landing, then?”
Paco asks her.

“
Has anybod
y called for volunteers? I would go if I were asked. Of course I would. But you who worry so much about our precious genetic heritage and our irreplaceable instruments of embryo nurture might stop and think a little about the logic of risking one of the t
w
o people on board who have a thorough understanding of how to operate our gene bank.”

“
I take it that what you
’
re saying is that you aren
’
t willing to go,”
Paco says cheerfully. It is apparent to everyone now, by the light in his eyes and the lopsided smil
e on his face, that he is simply goading her for the sake of a little fun.

Sylvia is a small and fairly timid woman, and this is an unusual situ
a
tion for her. The stress of it is already beginning to show. “
I
said
I would go if I were asked! But it would b
e idiotic to ask me.
You
go, P
a
co. All you
’
re good for is navigating and producing sperm. You said yourself that we have plenty of sperm available, so we can get along without yours in case you get killed down there. And if it
’
s a planet good enough to set
tle on, we won
’
t need a navigator any more anyway.”

Julia and Giovanna applaud. So do Heinz and David, after a moment. Even Paco grins.

Huw, who can be an extremely patient man, has been waiting with extreme patience while all this takes place. Now he says
doggedly, as though the entire Paco-Sylvia interchange had never taken place, “
If I may continue, then: three of us make up the landing party. The year-captain is the biologist. Marcus or Innelda will do the planet
o
graphic analysis, I suppose. And, natura
lly, I will drive the surface veh
i
cle in which we will travel, and look after it in case of a breakdown. What do you think?”

“
What the year-captain thinks is a better question,”
Heinz says. “
But your list sounds good to me. Why don
’
t you go down the hall right now and let him know that you
’
ve picked his landing crew for him?”

“
I mean to,”
Huw replies. “
Just as soon as I finish this game.”

He puts down his next stone. Leon stares sadly at the board and o
f
fers a countermove into Huw
’
s
territory, but Huw heads it off with three quick moves that leave Leon
’
s stones encircled in a sea of black. Heinz and Paco come over to watch. Leon is one of the most experienced players on board, and Huw is still regarded as a novice; but Huw is murderi
n
g him with the aplomb and panache of an expert. He is playing now with the unsparing swiftness of the formidable Roy; he is playing almost on the extraordinary level that Noelle herself, the ship
’
s unque
s
tioned champion these days, has attained. Leon seems
rattled. He makes his moves too hastily, and Huw replies to each one with some crushing new onslaught. Two new enclosures sprout on the board, black stones throttling white. Leon peers at them for a time and shakes his head.