Richard Russo - Ship of Fools

BYthe time they got back to the shuttle, Starlin was still furious, and Winton continued to vigorously deny any harmful intent. Both were confined to their compartments while the rest of us talked to Cardenas and reviewed the recordings. Cardenas couldn’t make a judgment. Much of her view had been blocked; everything had happened so quickly, and she’d been focused on Starlin, not on Winton.

“I can’t be sure,” she said. “I really can’t.” There was a long hesitation. “But I will admit that my impression at the time, and I want to emphasize that it wasn’t a strong impression by any means, was that… was that Winton tried to push him through the opening.”

No one said anything for a long time. Finally Maria Vegas said, “But why?”

I don’t think the lack of an answer changed anyone’s mind about what had happened. We watched the recordings again, all three frames of reference. Still inconclusive. But like Cardenas, I, too, had the impression that Sherry Winton had tried to push Starlin into the next room, to his probable death. I knew others felt the same way, and Cardenas’s words had charged the air. More silence, no one knowing quite what to say, where to start. But I knew what needed to be done.

“They both have to go back to the Argonos ,” I finally said.

There was no argument.

NORwas there any argument from the Executive Committee back on the Argonos . But they strongly suggested we all return to the ship for a few days, even a couple of weeks. The bishop declared that we needed a break from the alien starship, from the hard work of suiting up every other day and moving about in zero g, from being cooped up together for so long. Nikos, too, said he thought it would be a good idea. I told them I would discuss it with the others, and we would let them know. In the meantime, they would select two replacements.

I called everyone except Starlin and Winton into the main cabin and told them what the Executive Committee had suggested. I included Taggart—the med-tech—and the two pilots because our decision would affect them as well.

“I want to know two things from each of you,” I said. “First, do you want to continue as a member of this team? If your answer is no, you can go back to the Argonos with Starlin and Winton, and no one will think less of you. This has been hard on all of us, and there’s no reason to think it’s going to get any easier. As I said before we came here, I don’t want anyone on this team who isn’t willing.” I looked out at all those who had been on the shuttle with me all this time. “If you need to think about it, just say so. Take a few hours if necessary.”

“What’s the second question?” Aiyana asked.

“If you do want to remain a part of this team,” I continued, “do you think we should go back to the Argonos for a time, get away from the alien ship? So, let’s start with the first question.”

As I’d expected and hoped, not a single person wanted to withdraw from the team. We moved to the second question.

“You’re in charge of this… mission,” William Rogers said. “I’d like to hear what you think about it.”

I looked at the others, saw some nodding, and no signs of objection. From the expressions on most of their faces, I had the feeling that at least some of them were beginning to respect me.

“I don’t think we should leave now,” I said. “I believe it would be a mistake. We’ve developed a feel for the alien ship. It may not be much, and we may not understand one damn thing about it yet, but we know it as much as anyone can at this point. Yes, we need to be more careful, remind ourselves of what can happen, what can go wrong. Starlin’s a perfect reminder of that. But if we go back to the Argonos , we risk losing that feel, however intangible it is. If that happens, we’re more likely to make mistakes when we come back. There will come a time when we’ll need to stop, when we will have been here too long. But I don’t think we’re anywhere near that point.”

Casterman spoke up. “I must disagree,” he said. “In part because I represent the Church, and I should argue the bishop’s position, but also because I personally agree with it.” He paused, and sniffed. I couldn’t help wondering what it was he was sniffing at. “I believe we will be more prone to mistakes if we don’t take a break from the daily excursions into the alien ship. We’re tired, we’re despairing—”

“Speak for yourself,” Pär interrupted. “I’m tired, but I’m not even close to despair.”

Casterman nodded. “Fair enough. But we are tired, and at times tired of each other. A break from all this would allow us a fresh start. We would come back with renewed enthusiasm.”

“No, I think Bartolomeo’s right,” Cardenas said. “Eventually we will need that kind of a break, but taking one now… It would be an implicit admission of failure, or defeat.”

“Not at all,” Casterman responded. “Just a recognition of the difficulties, of the stresses involved.”

“You can say that all you want,” Cardenas argued, “but I know that’s how it would feel. Inside.” She pointed to her stomach. “Where it counts.”

We took a vote. Casterman and Aiyana were the only ones who voted against staying.

“We stay right here, then,” I said. Then, to the two dissenters, “Do you want to go back to the Argonos ? If you need the time away from here, we’ll adjust the schedule around it until you feel you can return. We won’t replace you.”

Casterman surprised me. He shook his head, smiling. “No. We’re in this together. I can’t speak for Aiyana, but I’ll stay.”

Aiyana hesitated, then nodded. “I will, too.”

We were decided.

Ihad Casterman and Aiyana with me when I contacted the Argonos so that they could assure the Executive Committee that I wasn’t making the decisions on my own. We spent half an hour discussing our decision to stay with the alien ship, and another on the logistics of getting Starlin and Winton back to the Argonos —we didn’t want to send them back together, so two maintenance modules would be sent and, at least for the time being, Starlin and Winton would have a security officer with them at all times. No one wanted to talk about a long-term solution, so it was ignored; everyone, I’m sure, was hoping any animosity between them would eventually disappear once they were back on board the Argonos .

Finally we got to the two replacements. Everyone on the Executive Committee turned to Bishop Soldano, so it was obvious who had made the final decision. The bishop looked at us, and a half-smile worked onto his face.

“We thought you would stay,” he said. “So the first replacement will be Dr. Glienna Sommerwild. Do any of you know her?”

Pär grunted. “I know her. She’s a head twister.”

The bishop nodded. “Yes, she’s a psychologist. We think her presence would be a good precaution, and she’s quite willing.”

I turned to Pär. “Any objection to her?”

He shook his head. “If we’ve got to have one, it might as well be her.” Then he smiled. “Nothing I do will surprise her.”

“All right,” I said. “Who’s the other replacement?”

The bishop hesitated, but the smile was still there. “Father Veronica.”

I avoided looking at Pär, and glanced at Casterman. His face was set hard, as if he was straining to keep any expression from appearing. I wondered if he thought the choice of Father Veronica a criticism of him by the bishop.

“Father Veronica,” I repeated. I felt stupid, unable to say anything else.