“I don’t know how I stand under your fool reg—” The American checked himself. “Pardon me, ma’m,” he said, a trifle thickly through his puffed lips. “I never did memorize space law. I thought common sense and good will would see us through. Reymont may be technically in the right, but I’ve had about my limit of his brass-headed interference.”
“Then, Dr. Glassgold, Dr. Williams, are you willing to abide by my sentence? You are entitled to a trial if you desire it.”
Williams achieved a lopsided smile. “Matters are bad enough already, ma’m. I suppose this has to go in the log, but maybe it doesn’t have to go in the whole crew’s ears.”
“Oh yes,” Glassgold breathed. She caught Williams’ hand.
Reymont opened his mouth. “You are under my authority, Constable,” Lindgren intercepted him. “You may, of course, appeal to the captain.”
“No, madame,” Reymont answered.
“Well, then.” Lindgren leaned back. Her countenance thawed. “I order accusations on every side of this case dropped — or, rather, never be filed. This is not to be entered on any record. Let us talk the problem out as among human beings who are all in, shall I say, the same boat.”
“Him too?” Williams jerked a thumb at Reymont.
“We must have law and discipline, you know,” Lindgren said mildly. “Without them, we die. Perhaps Constable Reymont gets overzealous. Or perhaps not. In any event, he is the single police and military specialist we have. If you dissent from him … that’s what I’m here for. Do relax. I’ll send for coffee.”
“If the first officer pleases,” Reymont said, “I’ll excuse myself.”
“No, we have things to say to you,” Glassgold snapped.
Reymont kept his eyes on Lindgren’s. It was as if sparks flew between. “As you explained, madame,” he said, “my job is to preserve the rules of the ship. No more, no less. This has become something else: a personal counseling session. I’m sure the lady and gentleman will talk easier without me.”
“I believe you are right. Constable.” She nodded. “Dismissed.”
He rose, saluted, and left. On his way upstairs he encountered Freiwald, who greeted him. He had kept some approximation of cordiality with his half dozen deputies.
He entered his cabin. The beds were down, joined into one. Chi-Yuen sat on it. She wore a light, frilly peignoir which made her resemble a little girl, a sad one. “Hello,” she said tonelessly. “You have thunder in your face. What happened?”
Reymont settled beside her and related it.
“Well,” she asked, “can you blame them very much?”
“No. I suppose not. Though — I don’t know. This band was intended to be the best Earth could offer. Intelligence, education, stable personality, health, dedication. And they knew they’d likely never come home again. At a minimum, they’d return to countries older than the ones they left by the better part of a century.” Reymont ran fingers through his wire-brush hair. “So things have changed,” he sighed. “We’re off to an unknown destiny, maybe to death, certainly to complete isolation. But is it that different from what we were planning on from the start? Should it make us go to pieces?”
“It does,” Chi-Yuen said.
“You too. I’ve been meaning to take that up with you.” He gave her a ferocious look. “You were busy at first, your amusements, your theoretical work, your programming the studies you wanted to carry out in the Beta Vee System. And when the trouble hit us, you responded well.”
A ghostly smile crossed her. She patted his cheek. “You inspired me.”
“Since then, however … more and more, you sit doing nothing. We had the beginnings of something real, you and I; but you don’t often make meaningful contact with me of late. You’re seldom interested in talk or sex or anything, including other people. No more work. No more big daydreams. Not even crying into your pillow after lights out … oh yes, I’d lie awake and hear you. Why, Ai-Ling? What’s happening to you? To them?”
“I imagine we have not quite your raw will to survive at any cost,” she said, almost inaudibly.
“I’d consider some prices for life too high myself. Here, though — We have what we need. A certain amount of comfort to boot. An adventure like nothing ever before. What’s wrong?”
“Do you know what the year is on Earth?” she countered.
“No. I was the one who got Captain Telander to order that particular clock removed. Too morbid an attitude was developing around it.”
“Most of us can make our own estimates anyway.” She spoke in a level, indifferent voice. “At present, I believe it is about anno Domini 10,000 at home. Give or take several centuries. And yes, I learned in school about the concept of simultaneity breaking down under relativistic conditions. And I remember that the century mark was expected to be the great psychological hurdle. In spite of that, these mounting dates have meaning. They make us absolute exiles.
Already. Irrevocably. No longer simply our kinfolk must be extinct. Our civilization must be. What has happened on Earth? Throughout the galaxy? What have men done? What have they become? We will never share in it. We cannot.”
He tried to break her apathy with sharpness: “What of that? On Beta Three, the maser would have brought us words a generation old. Nothing else. And our individual deaths would have closed us off from the universe. The common fate of man. Why should we whine if ours takes an unexpected shape?”
She regarded him gravely before she told him, “You don’t really want an answer for yourself. You want to pull one out of me.”
Startled, he said, “Well … yes.”
“You understand people better than you let on. Your business, no doubt. You tell me what our trouble is.”
“Loss of control over life,” he replied at once. “The crew aren’t in such bad condition yet. They have their jobs. But the scientists, like you, had vowed themselves to Beta Virginis. They had heroic, exciting work to look forward to, and meanwhile their preparations to make. Now they’ve no idea what will happen. They know just that it’ll be something altogether unpredictable. That it may be death — because we are taking frightful risks — and they can do nothing to help, only sit passive and be carried. Of course their morale cracks.”
“What do you think we should do, Charles?”
“Well, in your case, for instance, why not continue your work? Eventually we’ll be searching for a world to settle on. Planetology will be vital to us.”
“You’re aware what the odds are against that. We are going to keep on this devil’s hunt until we die.”
“Damnation, we can improve the odds!”
“How?”
“That’s one of the things you ought to be working on.”
She smiled again, a little more alive. “Charles, you make me want to. If for no other reason than to make you stop flogging at me. Is that why you are so tough with the others?”
He considered her. “You’ve borne up better than most thus far,” he said. “It might help you get back your purpose if I share what I’m doing with you. Can you keep a trade secret?”
Her glance actually danced. “You should know me that well by now.” One bare foot rubbed across his thigh.
He patted it and chuckled. “An old principle,” he said. “Works in military and paramilitary organizations. I’ve been applying it here. The human animal wants a father-mother image but, at the same time, resents being disciplined. You can get stability like this: The ultimate authority-source is kept remote, godlike, practically unapproachable. Your immediate superior is a mean son of a bitch who makes you toe the mark and whom you therefore detest. But his own superior is as kind and sympathetic as rank allows. Do you follow me?”
She laid a finger to her temple. “Not really.”