“What for?”
“Commander Aarons called a shipwide meeting, it’s starting right now. I thought you’d probably missed the announcement while you were coming inside.”
Jenny appeared. “What announcement? What is it?”
“Come on,” Zak said.
“I think we ought to go,” I said apologetically. Jenny and I looked at each other. We shrugged. “A little later, maybe…”
Jenny smiled and nodded. We followed Zak, who was already walking away. I felt bad about interrupting our little private party. Alcohol holds no fascination for me—I’ve had plenty of chances to drink at home, so it’s nothing new—but there is something about the rituals of drinking that can cement new ties, formalize a relationship. And I suppose I wanted to mark the occasion. I wanted to make a bench mark that said, here is when I opened my eyes a little, and saw her clearly for the first time.
Zak told us about a flurry of rumors that had run around the Lab during the day, most of them contradictory. I half-listened on the way to the auditorium. The bowl was nearly filled. The 3D cameras were operating, so that people who couldn’t leave their posts could listen in. We found three seats together on the very last row.
The auditorium buzzed with speculation. I spotted Mom and Dad sitting together, the Motos, and several others. The lights dimmed slightly. People stopped chattering and Commander Aarons walked to the podium at center stage. He seemed smaller than I remembered him, and awfully tired. He reached up and nervously plucked at his moustache before speaking.
“It is my duty to make a grave announcement. Two hours ago I received word from the Executive Council of the International Space Administration. For the last several weeks the Council has deliberated on the future course of research and exploration throughout the solar system.
“The discussions were extensive. Plans for construction of the first unmanned probes to the nearby stars were even considered; the Council elected to set aside such a program for the foreseeable future.
“As many of you may have suspected, it was an order of the Council that delayed the departure of the Argosy. I did not know why until this evening.
“We are all aware—however divorced we may be from our home planet—that the economic crisis there is steadily worsening. Overpopulation has not been solved. Raw materials are running low, despite the self-supporting mines in the asteroid belt. Gradually the ‘extras’ are being whittled away.
“I am afraid the Council has decided that it is the Laboratory’s turn to be trimmed. No, no—” he looked toward the top of the bowl, directly at me—“that is far too mild a word. The Council has informed me…that all research operations here and on Ganymede are to be ended. The Laboratory is finished.”
Chapter 12
Suddenly everybody was talking at once. The Commander let the noise build for a moment and then cut it off by raising his hand.
“The Argosy will leave Earth orbit within the hour. It is flying empty; none of the cargo we asked for is aboard, nor are food supplements. The Council has given orders that the Laboratory be stripped of useful scientific instruments. All personnel are to return to Earth on the Argosy.”
“Impossible!” someone down front shouted.
The Commander shook his head. “It is not. The Council sent detailed plans for departure. If we squeeze, we can make it.”
“But why? Why so sudden?” the same person said again.
Commander Aarons relaxed his stance and leaned slightly against the podium. He seemed glad that the formal announcement was over and he could talk normally. “We’ve always known that there are factions on the Council who oppose space research further away than Luna. I believe since the recent elections they are in the driver’s seat.”
Mr. Jablons stood up. “Commander, we have as much patience as anyone. We all know ISA has been trying to nickel and dime us to death for years, with little cuts here and there. But this isn’t a cut, it’s a hangman’s noose. I say we should fight it!”
“Right!”
“I’m with Jablons!”
“Very fine, gentlemen,” the Commander said. “What do you propose?”
“Shoot the Council!”
Commander Aarons smiled wryly. “Impractical, I am afraid. Anyone else?”
Mrs. Moto stood up. “We are citizens of many different countries. Could we not appeal through our geographical representatives?”
“We are only a few more than twelve hundred people. Madam.” Commander Aarons said. “We carry very little political clout.”
“Senator Davidson has always supported the Lab. We can appeal to him,” a voice said.
A man stood and waved for attention from the Commander. When he got it he said. “Judging from a few hints in the legislative reports we get sandwiched into the news from Earth, Senator Davidson fought for us and lost. He has relinquished his position on the Advisory Board.” The Commander nodded. “Anyway, a senator is a creature half-man and half-horse. Normally the top half is a man. You can’t expect them to set sail against the prevailing winds.”
Some people nodded; others looked glum.
A woman stood. “Yes, Mrs. Schloffski?” the Commander said and I recognized her from the Sagan.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she said dramatically, “I have been sorely distressed at the things said here tonight. Murder and insurrection have been advocated. I think it is time the saner, wiser heads in this Laboratory are heeded—goodness knows we have not been listened to enough in the past. In all honesty, I feel that if the Commander and his staff had sought out proper council among the Laboratory members we would not be having such difficulties now. I have always thought—”
“Do you have a point, Mrs. Schloffski?” Commander Aarons said mildly.
“Of course I do. I wanted to say that, once the Council has spoken, we should all be good enough citizens to recognize that fact and act accordingly. Certainly there is no one else to blame than ourselves for the fact that we have found so little of lasting scientific interest out here—”
“Who says?”
“How would you know?”
“—far from our natural home.” She glared at the hecklers. “I believe there are a number of women who followed their husbands out from Earth and feel that they have sacrificed enough. The living conditions here are wretched. I imagine there will be many of us who will be glad to go home.”
Mrs. Schloffski sat down. Her husband, sitting next to her, said something. She snapped at him and he opened his mouth and then closed it again. After that he was quiet.
“Commander?” my mother said, standing. “I would like to speak for the women I know. We are not ready to go Earthside until our jobs are finished here. We will stand by our husbands even if we don’t have clean, ironed sheets every day.”
There was a burst of applause. Several hands were waving for attention. The Commander picked my father’s.
“Something bothers me about your wording, Commander. You said everyone returns on the Argosy?”
“Correct.”
“I don’t believe the Can’s fusion plant and electrical generators can be left to automatic control; it’s too risky. We will have to shut them down before we go.”
“What’s your point?” someone in the audience said.
“Without current our superconducting magnets will not work.”
There was a murmur as a few people saw what Dad was driving at. Commander Aarons frowned and unconsciously tugged at his moustache.
“Without the magnets,” my father went on, “the Can won’t be completely shielded from the Van Allen belt radiation. High-energy electrons and protons will pass into the Laboratory. Within a year they will create enough radioactive isotopes to make the living quarters here uninhabitable. The isotopes will be distributed randomly around the Lab, in the walls and deck. The Lab will be unlivable.”