The Mile Long Spaceship (21 page)

Brother Homer turned beseechingly toward Brother David who merely looked at a loss as to where to begin.

Then hesitantly he asked, "May I ask why you don't make yourselves immortal? And how you got this job?"

"Everyone does ask and you may as well also. The truth is that we wouldn't have immortality for anything in the world. After your thousandth girl, your millionth steak, your billionth dollar, then what? Nothing. Everything gets old to people now, they are bored with living, and yet want more of the same. And when they get it, they are more bored. Not for us, thank you." Lasky recited the answer as if he had given it countless times before. "And our names along with millions of others were fed to the Machine. We were chosen to serve on the Board. For all we know they drew us from a drum."

Hurriedly Brother Homer commented, "But think of all the good you could do, if you knew you had forever to do it." He ignored the slight concerning the wisdom of the Machine. If it had picked them for the job, they had to be the best qualified; to doubt that was heresy. Briefly the thought flashed through his mind that he and Brother David had been chosen—not by their qualifications, but by chance. He shrugged it off.

"I don't think so," Lasky was saying. "Goodness is like everything else. After awhile it would pall. A genius might make use of such a lifetime, but so far no genius has petitioned us." With a philosophic shrug, and a quick look at his colleagues, he paused.

"Neither has a world president," Dr. Jorgenson added dryly.

"Nor any past Board member," Dr. Chan put in.

Brother Homer fell silent meditating on this. Brother David asked, "Will we really be immortal? Or is it merely a term indicating a much longer life span?"

"That's hard to answer, since we're not immortal and wouldn't really be able to state empirically that it is a fact. However, those who first received it five hundred years ago have not aged since then."

Brother Homer swallowed hard. Somehow he had always secretly believed that the term was relative, not absolute. "Can it be undone?"

"No! You must understand that before you proceed." Dr. Chan looked at him fixedly.

"Can we change our minds about it now?"

"Certainly, but you wouldn't be allowed to return with the knowledge. You would have to live out your lives on a certain planet that is available to all who renege."

For a time Brother Homer could think of nothing else to ask, and then he found himself growing more indignant over the matter. "It certainly isn't what I thought it would be," he muttered.

"Nor I," added Brother David. "But since we are, after all, the servants of the Most Divine One, I suppose that it doesn't matter so much how His will is obeyed." More accusingly he added, "But I do think that you gentlemen are misusing a gift that could make humanity happier."

"And can you tell us how you would go about using it otherwise?" countered Lasky acidly. "Following the example set by our predecessors, we have sent out some Machine picked men and women uniquely fitted for specific jobs. But distances being what they are, even with the F.T.L. Drive, they will not be back to report in our lifetimes. And the next thousand years may not be enough for a comprehensive survey of the universe. What are we to do? Give eternal life to the people so that they can crowd all humanity off the planets known to be usable only to die out before enough habitable planets are found? Until we have sufficient space for mankind, man must die when his appointed time comes simply to make room for the next generation. Either that or forego the unquestionable pleasure of producing a successive generation."

Brother Homer shrugged sadly. It was logical, but it was cruel. He felt that it would serve no purpose to pursue that line any farther and he asked, "Will we be given a course in how to run our ship? And what's the F.T.L. Drive you keep mentioning?"

The three Board members looked at one another helplessly. Hesitantly Dr. Chan proposed, "We could let a robot instruct them..."

Lasky glowered at him. To Brother Homer he said, "F.T.L. is faster than light. Have you had advanced mathematics, physics, astrogation...?" As the two Brothers exchanged abashed glances he waved it aside. "Oh well, you won't have to worry about it. It would take years to teach you, but you don't need it. Our computers in the ship will take care of everything, even plan for emergencies for you so that all you have to do is follow instructions. And leave the machines alone," he added darkly.

Brother Homer sighed his relief. "Can your computers tell what percentage of planets have life, and all that?" As the other nodded, he went on, "From your experience what would you say is our chance of converting those intelligent creatures to the faith of the Most Divine One?"

Lasky, who had been the main spokesman for the trio now turned to Dr. Jorgenson. "Can you give them some idea of the magnitude of their self-appointed task?"

"Hmmm. It is like putting half a dozen grains of green sand on a beach of white sand and letting a hurricane mix them up for you, and then trying to find the green grains again. The sand represents the planets, the green sand the ones you might have a chance with—if you could find them, and if some of them don't burn you at the stake first." He seemed pleased with his answer and turned to Lasky grinning. "Or do you think the odds are more uneven than that?"

"Thank you," Brother Homer intervened coldly before it could continue. "I guess we may as well get on with it." He regained his feet ponderously, more slowly than his fellow traveler who was already standing, a scarcely concealed look of pious indignation on his face. They followed Dr. Chan from the room not deigning a backward glance at the two Board members who remained by their couches.

They were led to a clinically outfitted room where their space garments were awaiting them. After being assured that their robes of their high office would be included in the articles for the trip, they disrobed and donned the new clothes, consisting of shorts and short sleeved shirts that they had to admit were extremely comfortable.

The functions of their ship were explained briefly for they would have an eternity to peruse the books that covered those things more explicitly. Food was assured for them by the atomic transmuter; their fuel for navigation was in space itself; the ship was machined to land only at specified planets that possessed certain characteristics of atmosphere and terrain that would protect them from the uninhabitable types. The computers would ceaselessly chart their course for them. And since their main purpose was to contact intelligent life, that was taken care of also, by the inclusion of a translating machine.

While they were being given the concise details of their coming lives and hearing that under no condition would the ship be allowed to reenter the region of the solar system for the next thousand years, they were placed on flat, hard beds and a number of wires attached to their various parts. They stoically received a number of injections, and slipped into a deep sleep while the process of immortalizing them proceeded.

After the first planet had faded into nothingness behind them, Brother Homer said placatingly, "Well, that was an experience, you must admit. After the initial shock, they were fine people back there."

"Yes, fine. And very religious." Brother David was studying the chart on the screen. "It will be forty years before we reach another one. Pinochle?"

"Hmmm. Might as well."

After the second planet had faded into nothingness behind them, Brother Homer said, "It certainly was a surprise to meet them. I expected something different."

"Yes, so did I. They were more like us in build than the others. And so very religious." He studied the chart. "Next planet in fifteen years. Pinochle?"

"Hmmm. Might as well."

After the third and fourth and fifth and fiftieth and hundredth and thousandth...

"Very nice world, wasn't it? I'm getting quite partial to blue grass. Much more soothing than the orange stuff in the last place. Nice people, too."

"Very nice. And so very religious." Brother David was studying the chart on the screen. "Next planet, seventy-two years. Pinochle?"

"Hmmm. Might as well." And then in the silence unbroken except for the shuffling of the cards Brother Homer asked in an embarrassed way, "Do you think we'll ever catch up? Perhaps He has the F.T.L. Drive, too!"

Keith
looked up scowling as the mayor entered his temporary office. "Well," he snapped.

"Captain Winters, there are problems. Some of the people don't wish to leave... Their crops, their homes..." Mayor Stebbins edged into the room hesitantly. "If you'd talk to them..."

"Mayor Stebbins, don't you have any power over these people? Won't they follow you?" Keith asked sharply.

"How can they adjust so fast, Captain? Only this morning they arose with everything normal, and now they are told they have to leave what they've worked for all their lives. How can I explain it to them?"

Keith's eyes filmed over as he stared at the little man. Slowly he said, "I'll talk to them. In an hour. And, Mayor, three loads of your people will leave tonight as Taros sets. You decide which ones. I'll want the information as soon as possible."

The meeting was held in the church. Keith studied the uneasy, pale faced congregation with an emotionless expression. They had silenced their buzzing whispers at his approach with the mayor and now waited. As Stebbins stepped forward to introduce him, Keith took his elbow and put him to one side, standing solidly behind the dais himself.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he started, his voice authoritative and hard, "you know who the Amories are and that they have literally burned up three inhabited worlds. The Space Exploration Control has learned that they plan to attack Kulane in sixteen days, and for that reason the entire population is being evacuated, Following the evacuation there will be a surprise counterattack. You will be put aboard a stellar ship at Lanning and transferred to safety." He paused and regarded them stonily, seeing not individuals but articles to be moved out. Here and there audible sobs were heard, but for the most part they were stunned and silent.

Briskly he concluded, "Your mayor will sit in on a briefing shortly and he will be able to answer your questions later. I cannot stress too strongly how important it is to give the appearance of normalcy. We have located alien scanners on Taros and there's another one in orbit to coincide with the sun's motions. There may be others that we have not found. They must not report any undue activity!"

He strode through the empty street with the sound of the congregation's mass voice raised in hymns ringing in his ear's. By the time he reached his makeshift office in the mayor's house, a cynical grin had replaced his earlier frown. Sheep!

Seven days later he climbed a hill overlooking the village. He sat watching until darkness came and one after another of the house lights flicked on. Very faintly he could make out the figures that appeared now and again in the streets, and he nodded his satisfaction. He glanced once toward the glowing disk of a moon that hovered just above the tops of the mammoth conifers that made up the terrain of the planet Kulane. Very tiredly he pushed himself up from the ground and prepared to return to the village. This last night, and then he'd leave with the last truck load of settlers, mission accomplished. He stiffened and pivoted to face the shadowy tree trunks.

"Who's there?" He had heard of the giant cats of Kulane and his tight lips curled as his fingers became part of his smooth sonic gun.

"Oh, I didn't know you were up here. I'm sorry." It was a woman, her face a pale blank in the faint light of the moon. She stopped at the sight of the gun.

"What are you doing in the woods?" He didn't put the gun hack in his tunic.

"Captain, please..." She advanced toward him, her hands held out so that he could see they were empty. "I'm Marilyn Roget. I came up here to wait for my husband and son. They'll come this way. Every night I come."

Stephan Roget, he remembered, was hunting the cats with his twelve year old son. He stared at the woman for a moment and then sheathed his gun. "You'd better be getting back," he said starting down the hill.

"Captain! I've tried to see you, but they said you were busy. Please listen to me!"

"Waiting for your husband?" he said, but he stopped.

"Captain, I don't care what you think. You can't just go off and leave them. Stevie is only twelve. What will happen to them?"

"There's nothing I can do. We have to have this village emptied by tomorrow morning and if they aren't back by then, we'll have to leave them." His tone was remote and again he turned to start back.

She ran to his side and caught his arm. "But..." She let her hand fall and raised her head very high. "Of course, you have to obey orders, don't you. But I don't. I'll stay and wait. We can get out in one of the flyers." At the look on his face she rushed on, "Not flying it. We'll use it as a ground car. We do it when there's a high storm."

"And what if they don't get back in time to make Lanning?"

"I'll hide in the forest until the battle's over. Until the time comes to hide, I could stay right down there and give it a real look of authenticity. What if something goes wrong with the robots. What if the generator fails? Someone should stay and make sure everything looks real right up to the end. I'll do it, and then hide in the woods later."

Savagely Keith swung around to blaze at her, "You fool! There will be no battle! No fight! The Amories will bombard Kulane from out in space and leave it a seething mass of radioactivity down to the deepest root of the tallest tree! We don't intend to let them suspect that the Control knows anything about it!"

Marilyn stared at him, incomprehension giving way to horror and fear. "I don't believe you," she whispered. "I don't believe you!
I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!"
She flung herself at him and beat at his face with hard, tight fists.

Keith jerked away and slapped her angrily. "Come on," he said roughly grasping her arm and forcing her ahead of him. Taros dipped behind a swaying branch of needles and left them dark shadows that stumbled down the hill.