Flight of Exiles

5

The meeting ended.

Much more swiftly than they had drifted into the meeting room, the Council members cleared out. Larry watched them leave, all of them except Dan. Finally he was alone in the room except for Dan. They sat at opposite ends of the table staring at each other.

I’ve known him all my life, Larry thought, and now he’s a stranger.

He got up from his seat and forced himself to walk down along the table to where Dan was sitting.

“I guess you do feel okay,” Larry said, putting on a smile. He sat on the edge of the table, next to Dan’s chair. “You sure made yourself heard.”

Dan was slouched back in his seat. He looked up at Larry and asked, “Why’d you get yourself elected Chairman? We agreed that I’d take it this year.”

“I know,” Larry said, feeling rotten. “You… well, you were laid up in the infirmary, no telling how long you’d be there. The medics kept saying you were okay physically, but emotionally…”

“So you stepped in.”

“Yes.”

“And being Chairman gives you the right to marry Valery, too, doesn’t it?”

God, he can see right through me!

“Don’t tell me that never entered your head,” Dan insisted.

Keeping his voice steady, Larry answered, “You know we’ve both been in love with Val since we were kids—”

“The Lorings raised all three of us. But we’re not playing brothers and sister anymore. Are you going to marry Val?”

“That’s… up to her,” Larry said.

“She’s promised to me!”

“Computer selection. That’s not final.”

Dan’s eyes flared, but he said only, “You’re willing to let her make the decision between us?”

“Yes.”

“All right.”

Larry felt the breath sag out of him in relief.

But Dan went on, “Have you appointed a board of inquiry to investigate the fire?”

“Board of… no, we have the report of Mort Campbell’s Damage Control group. That’s enough. What, good would a board of inquiry do?”

.Straightening up in his chair, Dan said, “The cause of the fire should be investigated. Fifty people died, and we should know why. Somebody’s responsible; accidents have causes.”

Feeling bewildered, Larry said, “We know why. The circuits were overloaded, the insulation gave—”

Dan banged a hand on the tabletop. “I want a full investigation! With a formal board of inquiry. And I want to head that board. If you won’t set it up, I’ll call for it at the next Council meeting.”

“But that would be like slapping Mort Campbell in the face. After all, he’s in charge of Life Support—”

“I don’t give a damn about Campbell!” Dan shouted. “Will you appoint a board or do I have to get the Council to do it?”

Larry felt ice-chilled inside. Another try to get the Council under his own control. “All right,” he said slowly. “I’ll appoint a board. You can even be its head. But you won’t find anything that hasn’t already been found.”

“Maybe.” Dan pulled himself out of the chair and strode to the door without another word or a backward glance. The door slid shut behind him with a click.

Larry sat there alone in the Council room for several minutes. Then he went back to his own seat and punched out a phone number on the tabletop keyboard.

“Infirmary,” said a pretty nurse. Her face was ballooned many times larger than life on the wall screen.

“Give me the chief psychotech, please.”

“Dr. Hsai? I’m afraid he’s busy at the moment—”

“See if you can interrupt him, will you? This is the Chairman; I must speak to him right away.”

“Oh… yessir, I’ll try.”

The screen went blank for a moment while a part of Larry’s mind smiled a little. Rank hath its privileges. The features of a thin-faced oriental in his thirties appeared on the screen.

“Mr. Belsen, what can I do for you?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, Doctor, but this is important. I’m worried about Dan Christopher… he’s acting… well, strange.”

Hsai made an understanding face. “Yes, that is to be expected. He feels the loss of his father very deeply, you know.”

“Too deeply, do you think?”

The doctor smiled. “To paraphrase a venerable adage; How deep is too deep?”

Larry hesitated for a moment, then decided to say it. “Deep enough to unbalance him.”

“Ahhh… I see. You feel he is unstable?”

“He’s acting strangely, Doctor. Making veiled accusations. He wants to investigate the accident in which his father died. He talks as if he thinks somebody caused the fire deliberately.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Hsai thought for a moment. “Well, I had planned to check on him within a few days. Perhaps I had better make it sooner. And deeper.”

“I’d appreciate knowing what the results are.”

“Eh, the doctor-patient relationship…”

“Yes, I know. But Dan can be a very influential member of the Council. It’s important that I know whether or not we can trust his judgment.”

“I see. Well, I suppose I can give you some feeling in that regard without violating any sacred oaths.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“Very well, Mr. Chairman. I shall see him tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

Larry’s office, as chief of the Command and Control section, was actually a cubbyhole set between the ship’s bridge and the computer center. Barely big enough for a desk and a small wall-screen viewer, the office was well suited for someone who was frightened of crowds and open spaces—or for someone who hated to spend much time at a desk and preferred to be moving around the ship.

Larry went into his office and sat at the desk. Suddenly he was very tired. He ran a weary hand over his brow.

A tap at the door.

“Come in.”

It was Dr. Loring. “I am interrupting something?”

“No, not at all,” Larry said. “Sit down.” He gestured to the only other chair in the room.

Loring’s bulk seemed to make the walls bulge outward. He squeezed around the plastic chair and then plopped down on it. Larry winched as the metal legs seemed to sag.

“I wanted to congratulate you… you ran a good meeting, despite certain, ah—interferences.”

Larry nodded absently. “You know,” he mused, “I hadn’t really understood until today how likely it is that the planet we’re heading for won’t be suitable to live on.”

“Yes. That would be a disappointment.”

“Disappointment?” Larry swiveled his chair around to face Dr. Loring directly. “It’ll be a catastrophe. It’ll mean rethinking the whole purpose of this voyage. Do we really want to stay at a world that’s not like Earth, and change our children into… into something different from us?”

“Frankly, I don’t see any alternative,” Loring confessed. “We don’t know of any better planets elsewhere.”

“Well, we’d better start looking,” Larry said firmly. “I don’t like being put in a corner. I want to have some choice as to whether we stay at Alpha Centauri or not.”

Loring looked mildly shocked. “You’re serious? You would actually consider going farther?”

Larry nodded.

“But… everyone on the ship thinks that our voyage is almost over.”

“I know,” Larry said. “It might be just beginning.”

Dr. Loring shook his head, making his heavy jowls quiver. “The people won’t like it. They are not emotionally prepared for going farther. The ship isn’t built to…”

“The ship can be repaired, overhauled. The people—well, the people will make the final decision, I guess. But I’d like them to understand the alternatives. Or at least to have an alternative to Alpha Centauri.”

“We don’t have the equipment on board to study planets of other stars from the ship. We can barely make out details of the major Centaurian planet, as it is.”

“Then you’ll have to build the equipment,” Larry said.

“In two months? I’m …”

“You’ve got less time than that,” Larry said, his voice hard and cold as plastisteel. “I want to be getting some data before we’re forced to settle into an orbit around the major planet.”

For once, Loring was speechless. He sat there open-mouthed, blinking wetly.

“You’ll get all the help you need,” Larry said. “I’ll see to that. But I want evidence of other Earthlike planets. They’ve got to be out there somewhere.”

“Why? Because you want them to exist?”

Larry could feel his teeth clenching. He forced himself to stay as calm as possible while answering, “No… it’s not just that. I don’t want to see my children altered to live on an inhuman world. Val’s children. Your grandchildren.”

Dr. Loring was silent for a long moment. Then, “He’s called her, you know.”

“Dan?”

“Yes. He wants to have dinner with her tonight.”

“She agreed?”

“Yes. I expect she’ll tell him about her decision to marry you.”

With a shake of his head, Larry replied, “No, I don’t think so. He’s been through enough recently; I don’t think Val will want to add that to his troubles.”

“But she’s got to!” Dr. Loring’s face started to redden. “Otherwise… she can’t let him think…”

“I know,” Larry said. “I know. But I’m afraid that Dan’s right on the edge of a real mental crackup. He’s like a man who’s gone outside and tethered himself to the level one wheel. He’s spinning around and around… and the more he spins, the wilder he feels.”

It had been a quiet, tense dinner. Valery and Dan had eaten in the ship’s main autocafeteria, in one of the shadowy little booths far away from the main dining area and the pickup lines with their crowds and noise.

They had said very little. Val looked beautiful but very serious in a red jumpsuit. Dan was dark and silent in a black coverall.

Now they were walking down a quiet corridor, back toward Dan’s quarters, a one-room compartment exactly like Larry’s. It even had one of Val’s paintings on its wall.

“You’ve decided on Larry, haven’t you?” Dan asked abruptly.

She stopped walking, right there in the middle of the nearly deserted corridor. “I think so. I told him-yes.”

He took her arm and resumed walking; she had to quicken her former pace to keep up with him. Without looking down at her, he asked, “You love him?”

“I love you both. You know that.”

“But you want to marry him.”

“He… he’s asked me to.”

“And you want your children to be the Chairman’s son and daughter.”

“No, it’s not that!”

“And if I were Chairman?”

Valery shook her head. “You’re not.”

“I could be.”

“No… not now. Larry has it and they’ll re-elect him. You won’t get another chance.”

Still looking straight ahead, he asked, “Suppose he’s voted out? Even before his first year’s over?”

“What?” She stopped again and pulled her arm free. “What are you saying, Dan?”

With a shrug, he answered, “Chairmen have been voted out before their terms were up. When the Council decides that the Chairman can’t handle the job. Or when they think there’s a better man available.”

“Don’t try it,” Valery said earnestly. “You’ll be hurting Larry and you’ll be hurting yourself even more.”

“I deserve to be Chairman,” Dan insisted. “But more than that—much more!—I want you. I love you, Val. I’ve always loved you. I’d tear this ship apart to get you, if I had to.”

“Oh, Dan… don’t.,. please…”

He reached out and took her into his arms. “You’re not going to marry Larry or anybody else. Only me. You think you’ve made up your mind, but just wait. By the time we go into orbit around the planet out there, you’ll see everything differently. You’ll see…”

Something in her head was telling Valery to push free of him, but something even stronger made her stay in his arms Looking up into his intent, deadly serious face, she said, “Dan… don’t make me come between you and Larry You’ve been friends…” It sounded pathetically weak, even while she was saying it.

“Larry might have murdered my father.”

“What?” In sudden amazement, she did push out of his grasp.

“I don’t think that fire was an accident. Somebody caused it Larry benefited from it.”

“Dan, that’s insane! Larry’s own father…”

“What’ll you think when I prove it?” Dan said, his voice rising to nearly a shout “Would you like to be married to a murderer?”

“Dan, stop it!”

“Well, would you?”

Valery turned suddenly and began running back down the corridor, the way they had just come.

“Val… wait.” He raced after her, caught her arm.

“I’m going home!” She pulled her arm free. “If you have any sense of decency at all you’ll never mention such a crazy thing again. Do you understand? Not to me or anyone else!”

She left him standing there, looking suddenly alone and helpless—and yet, as Valery glanced back toward him, Dan also seemed darkly resolved, strong and purposeful She shuddered Larry, a murderer? It was insane. But… that meant that Dan was—insane!

Which was it?

And with a final helping of horror, Valery realized, Whichever it is, I’ve helped to cause it’

Dan watched her hurry down the corridor, knowing that he had driven her away.

Maybe l am crazy, he said to himself. How could Larry…He couldn’t, not Larry!

But another part of his mind droned with remorseless logic.

Someone caused the fire. Someone killed fifty people and kept you from your rightful position as Chairman. Someone wants to change everything, have everything his own way.

Feeling sick and confused and more angry with himself than anyone else, Dan made his way back to his own quarters.

It wasn’t until he had dropped onto his bunk that he noticed his viewscreen had MESSAGE WAITING written in glowing yellow letters across it.

He sat up on the bunk and punched the yellow button among the cluster on the keyboard beside the screen. The face of a young man appeared on the screen. Dan couldn’t quite place him, he knew he had seen him before, but didn’t know him personally.

“I’m Ross Cranston, from the computer section. I have a private message for Dan Christopher. I’ll be in my quarters until first shift starts tomorrow morning.”

The taped message faded from the screen. Puzzled, Dan touched the green button and said, “Get me Ross Cranston, please.”

The computer-directed phone circuits answered with nothing but a faint hum Then the same face appeared on the screen.

He looked just a little startled. “Oh, you’re Dan Christopher, aren’t you?”

“That’s right,” Dan said. “You wanted to speak to me.”

Cranston said, “Yes. But not on the phone. Are you busy? Can I come to your quarters? Or you can come to mine.”

“What’s this all about?” Dan asked.

Nervously, Cranston answered, “I’d rather … it’d be better to talk in private.”

“About what?” Dan insisted.

“Your father.”

Dan was instantly taut with tension. “I’ll come to your place. What’s the number?”

Ten minutes later Dan was tapping on Cranston’s door. Politeness dictated a light tap with the fingernails, the compartments were all small enough for that sort of noise to be heard instantly, and it didn’t disturb the next compartment, just a few steps away But something in Dan wanted to pound on the door with both fists.

Cranston slid the door open He was much shorter than Dan sandy hair, worn long; roundish face, too puffy for a young man but not yet really fat. Nervous, light brown eyes darting everywhere.

“What’s this all about?” Dan said as he stepped into the compartment. It was like all the other living quarters, except that Cranston had covered its walls with graphs and odd-looking sketches that appeared to be printouts of computer-directed drawings.

Cranston gestured Dan to a chair. He himself pulled a large pillow off his bunk, let it drop to the floor, and then sat on it cross-legged.

“I’m with the computer section,” he began.

“You said that on the phone.”

“Yes. Well, earlier today we were running routine statistical checks, inputting those fifty deaths so the computer could keep its memory banks up to date…”

Dan felt his insides churning. “And?”

“Well… when we input your father’s name, a special subroutine must’ve been triggered. We got a message.”

“A message?”

Cranston nodded. “It’s kind of strange— I’m not even sure what it means. But I thought you ought to know about it.”

“What did it say?” Every nerve in Dan’s body was tightening.

Cranston reached lazily up to his desk, beside him. “Here, I had a paper copy made.”

Dan snatched the flimsy paper scrap from his hand. He looked at it, shook his head, and looked at it again. It said:

“It’s gibberish.”

“No,” Cranston said. “It’s just a shorthand that computer programmers used around the time when the ship began the voyage. I checked that much.”

“Then what’s it mean?”

“If I’m right—and I think I am—it means that there’s a priority subroutine number seven, in one of the prime memory banks. Those prime banks date back to the beginning of the voyage.”

“What do the numbers mean?”

“It’s some sort of code index, to tell us where the subroutine’s located.”

Suddenly Dan’s temper exploded. “Subroutine, code index, memory banks…what the hell are you talking about? Speak English!”

Cranston actually backed away from him. “Okay… okay, it’s simple enough. It looks to me like somebody put a special priority message of some sort into one of the earliest memory banks in the computer. The message was to be read out only in the event of your father’s death, because the computer didn’t tell us the message existed until we told the computer he had died.”

“A message from my father?” Dan’s pulse was going wild now. “Could he have suspected … did he know …?”

Cranston was staring at him quizzically.

Dan grabbed the computer tech by his coverall shirtfront. “You find that message, do you hear? Find it as quickly as you can! But don’t tell anyone else about it. Not a soul!”

“O… okay… whatever you say—”

“How quickly can you get it for me?”

Pulling free of Dan’s grip, Cranston said, “I dunno… hard to say. A day or two… if I have to keep it a secret from everybody else, maybe a few days.”

“Get it as fast as you can,” Dan repeated. “And not a word to anybody. Understand?”

“Yeah… sure…”

“All right then.” Dan got up and strode out of the compartment, leaving the computer tech squatting there on the floor, looking dazed and more than a little frightened, slowly smoothing his rumpled shirtfront.

A message from my father, Dan told himself. He must have known what was going to happen to him!