William Forstchen - Into the Sea of Stars

"I think, Ian Lacklin, my pudgy, bespectacled, bookish professor, I think that if you were suddenly in the same situation as I…" His voice trailed away for a moment, as if the images he was arguing over were wavering before him like phantoms. "I think, Ian, that you, too, would finally learn to decide the fate of tens of thousands. Learn, at last, just how easy it really is. But back to the answer of your question, my friend."

He spoke a couple of quick commands into the nav system and the shuttle rolled into a different trajectory, aiming itself toward a close sweep of the small planet that was the source of Franklin Smith's strength. Then he turned back to their conversation.

"In short, Ian Lacklin, I had to devise a way to kill seventy-five thousand of my own people, otherwise all of us would die. Our council thought of raiding another col ony, but we had yet to build the necessary weapons, and anyhow, the colonies were already destroyed in the open ing stages of the war or far ahead of us on their trajec tories.

"So we had to take in the following considerations before cutting back on our population. Our ecosystem was susceptible to sabotage; a small group of malcontents could seize a key point-the reactor, the central control system, or one of a hundred other points-and thereby blackmail the rest. Therefore I was forced to move swiftly and to create a state of tight control. It had to be harsh, ruthless, and unswerving in loyalty; and most important, instantaneous to command without thought of personal self.

"I realized, Ian, that a system employing Bushido was the key."

"Bushido?"

"An ancient" word. Japanese, meaning a code of war riors' honor. It suited my needs perfectly. A system of feudal overlords with retainers who valued honor more than life; service to their clan's lord became the definition of their life. In short, Ian, it became the only way. I needed to instill discipline and an acceptance of death to serve the greater whole-a society where death was accept able."

He fell silent for a moment and looked away. And Ian noticed a tremor in his jaw, as if he was fighting for con trol.

"I had to kill seventy-five thousand so twenty-five thousand could live," he whispered. "And there was no escaping that trauma. No escape for Dr. Franklin Smith, professor of philosophy from Berkeley.

"Our governmental system had been democratic, but the ruling body of our unit came to me, knowing what had to be done. They knew a democratic system would deadlock over the question of who would die. They feared some of the malcontents' taking over, and knowing that I was the pacifist and philosopher, they felt comfortable with my becoming the Angel of Death. Oh, they could wash their hands of it then-the stigma would be carried by Smith. Let Smith kill them; afterward we'll deal with him. I begged them at first not to nominate me, but in the end I took the position."

"What did you do then?" Ian asked, realizing why it was that Smith had spared him. Ian was the cathartic, the only one in Smith's universe that he could unburden to. He had for the moment become, like of old, the confessor to a Pope, the confessor to a god.

"I was married, you know," Smith replied, his voice barely a whisper. "Janet… Janet. I told her why and she understood. Then I killed her."

He looked away again and started to sob. The planet was rolling by beneath them, the shuttlecraft skimming a thousand meters above the surface. Pits the size of cities dotted the landscape, and from them rose streams of pay-loads propelled upward by the mass-drivers. As they ap proached the equatorial band, it seemed as if the planet were rimmed with the spokes of a wheel soaring upward to the geosync points, where processing plants manufactured the needs of a billion people. Ian didn't say a word as the quiet sobs filled the shuttle. Suddenly Smith stiff ened and with a forceful effort turned and looked back at Ian.

"With that one death I gained the understanding and, thereby, the control over the others; they listened to one who had made the penultimate sacrifice. First, I ordered that the best and the brightest would be saved. Those with the superior intellect and the superior genetic ca pabilities would live to breed a superior race. They were isolated in a secure portion of the colony. The single door way into that section became known as the Portal of Life, for only those chosen could go through it.

"Next I selected those with unique skills and knowl edge who had not earlier been selected. I now had half the people that I could save."

"What did the council say to this plan?"

Smith's expression hardened. "They said nothing. After I killed Janet, my first order had been to kill every member of the council. They gave me the power-I used it. I killed them, for they all deserved to die. They would have used me in the end as their scapegoat, their Judas, and turned against me. For I realized that only by yielding to the decisions of a wise clan lord could we survive, and I would become that lord. I had already selected my bodyguards, those who would be my first generation of priests, though I knew that my cult would have to be developed gradually.

"I then created the Order of the Sword, and the system to exercise it. Hardly anyone had experience with sword work. It was fair, and simple. Our stores of steel were adequate and we manufactured those first weapons easily enough. Crude, they were, but sufficient. And thus for six months, day by day, the fighting of pairs became the path out. And with it, the forcing of obedience to my will, since those who were the best, those who could take the discipline, gradually became my closest guards and car riers of my will."

He chuckled with a deep solemn tone, which Ian found to be strange after the emotional outbreak of earlier.

"Human nature… so strange, so strange. They came to enjoy it, this warriors' code. The women became the fiercest at times, especially those who had lost children. Don't look at me that way, Ian, you must have known that when we were exiled we brought our families and children with us. It was a penal colony."

"What happened to the children?"

"Those with superior abilities were sent to the isolation area until the trials by arms were over. Those over twelve who did not make it that way had to fight. Those under twelve… we put to sleep."

"The children?"

"Don't call upon your moral superiority with me, Ian. If we had left them back on your Earth, they would have been vaporized in the war. Is that superior?"

Ian didn't particularly care for the way he said " your Earth," but he thought it best not to argue the point.

"But all those thousands who missed being defined as superior by only a small fraction, or by several points in the tests you once used. Would it not have been wise to try to save them? What about the brutes, the savage an imals who would survive by killing, were they worth saving?"

"If I had not let them think they had a fair chance, they would have overthrown my plan. Can't you see the beauty of it? I let them think that they had the advantage. However, it was so simple. I matched brutals against bru tals. Those who might oppose me against those who might oppose me. And those who might be worth saving, I tried, when possible, to match them against weaker opponents who were not worth saving but whom I could not simply execute.

"Through the fights it was so easy to deceive them and to keep them from destroying all of us in a mad frenzy of destruction, as the scum back on Earth had prophesied.

"And so for six long and bloody months, I reduced us step by step. The bodies were processed for their valuable resources, my people learned a new code, and we were transformed. And as I watched the Earth disappear as tern, fading to a blue speck lost in the glare of a minor sun, I learned control.