Richard Russo - Ship of Fools

The harvesters . I shuddered inwardly, thinking about them. Once again I saw them rising before me during the failed insurrection, like fire monsters, nuclear versions of the bishop’s Leviathan.

“There’s a big problem with the harvesters,” Nikos said. “Actually with the shuttles, too. And why not? There’s a big problem with every aspect of this idea.”

“What problem?” Pär asked.

“Gravity,” Nikos answered. “The harvesters and shuttles don’t have any. I don’t care how much room you’ve got, you can’t pack hundreds or thousands of people in zero-g holds for weeks and months on end.”

“Constant acceleration of half a g or so,” Pär said.

“And then constant deceleration ?” Nikos said. “Way too much fuel needed for that. If we could convert the ship drives and install them, maybe, but that’s just impossible. With conventional fuel…”

I started laughing.

“What?”

“It’s grotesque,” I said, “but the bishop’s got part of the answer. The gravity device he used to kill Father Veronica. He can make it work. We install it on one of the harvesters, rotate people in and out so no one has to do the whole trip stored like cargo in zero g. Put people in two of them, one with gravity, and use the third harvester for cargo, food, and equipment, anything that can be tied down.”

“Okay, that’s just my point,” Nikos said. “Any of these problems can be worked out.”

“Of course,” Pär added, “even with the harvesters and all the shuttles, it may still not be enough space to take everyone.”

“I know, damn it,” Nikos snapped. “We’ll deal with that when we have to. We’ll deal with every problem. At least this is a way out.”

“Maybe,” I said. “There’s one thing we should do before we bother trying to resolve all the logistical problems.”

“What’s that?” Nikos asked.

Par was nodding. “Yes,” he said. “We need to find out what the alien ship will do when a shuttle or harvester leaves the Argonos. ”

I looked at him. “You willing to make a test run with me?”

Pär nodded. “Let’s do it now,” he said.

WEwent out in one of the harvesters. I wanted to take one of the shuttles, but Pär argued that a harvester, being so much larger, would be a better test; I couldn’t argue. The pilot’s cabin was a half-bubble of steelglass atop the forward end of the harvester. We sat behind the pilots, watching the expanse of stars in front of us and the receding ships behind us. Monitors placed throughout the cabin gave us a variety of views.

We had launched from the Argonos at low speed, accelerated slowly for ten minutes, then cut the engines, traveling in silence except for the pilots’ periodic exchanges. We were moving at a constant velocity away from the two locked ships, which grew smaller and smaller on the monitors. All four of us waited for something from the alien ship—a missile launch, an energy beam, magnetic disruption pulses, some other unknown and unknowable weapon or force that would destroy us, disable us, or pull us back into the Argonos or the alien ship.

A half hour passed without incident. Forty-five minutes. An hour. The ships had disappeared from view, then even from the monitors, although instruments still registered their presence.

“How far do we go?” one of the pilots asked.

I looked at Pär. “Another hour?” I suggested.

“At least. We have to be sure. Or as sure as we can be.”

When we were two hours out we tried another fifteen-minute acceleration, boosting our velocity. Then we continued for another hour. Nothing.

Finally we were satisfied, and I think surprised. We told the pilots to turn around and take us back.

“Take it slow going back, too,” Pär said. “We don’t need to go roaring in, calling even more attention to ourselves.” Then he turned to me. “Think it’ll be this easy?”

“It didn’t feel that easy,” I said. “The truth is, even if we manage to get away from the ships, the journey back to Antioch in these things is going to be miserable.”

He nodded. “Yeah. You know what won’t be easy? Going to the Planning Committee with this. And we have to have their support, we have to have them all with us. Without them, we won’t be able to retrofit and ready the shuttles and harvesters, get several thousand people prepared to go, all of that. Everything that will have to be done efficiently and quickly. They’ve got to be with us.”

“I don’t understand,” I said. “What’s the problem? There’s no other choice. This is our only chance. Why would it be difficult to convince them?”

“Because many of them have already given up all hope. They’re so far gone, it will be tough to bring them back. A tiny shred of hope isn’t going to do it. We’ll have to convince them that there’s a good chance of success.”

What Pär said made sense. “You’re right. So let’s hope no one brings up this other minor matter.”

“What’s that?”

“Assuming we get away from the ships, what’s to prevent the aliens from following us back to Antioch?”

“Well, let’s hope no one mentions it.” Pär laughed. “Besides, I don’t know why you worry about that. Forget this test. You know what the chances are they’ll actually let us all get away in the first place?”

“Then why are you going along with this?”

“You said it. This is the only option we’ve got. And if by some miracle we can get to Antioch, at least we’ll have a chance. We stay on the Argonos , we have none.” He nodded once. “None.”

No one said anything more the rest of the way in.

THEPlanning Committee was something to see: despair, emotional paralysis, dishevelment. Dementia and absentia—I counted five empty seats. But all the Executive Council members were there, even the bishop. He sat listlessly in his chair, eyes unfocused. I could barely look at him without screaming. I wondered how many people in the room knew what he had done.

Nikos and Cardenas had met for several hours with Costino, Rita Hollings, and two or three others to discuss details and logistics—how long the trip would be, the fuel needs, how many people could go with each of the shuttles, how many in the harvesters, what it would take to equip and retrofit the vehicles, and on and on. They didn’t need to have every specific answer, but Nikos wanted to be prepared with estimates for the Planning Committee.

Nikos finally called the meeting to order.

“Everyone in this room knows the situation we are in. But the reason this meeting has been called is that we have a proposal. An idea, a plan for a way out.”

“What?” someone asked. “The Casterman Method? Mass suicide?”

Someone else gave a halfhearted laugh in response, but it quickly faded.

“We’re going to Antioch,” Nikos said, replying quickly. He wasn’t going to let the meeting get out of control. “Not in the Argonos , but in shuttles and harvesters.”

The questions began immediately, as well as the criticisms, and outright dismissal from a few people. Nikos explained in some detail what we planned to do, then he and Cardenas spent the next two hours answering questions, responding to complaints, passing a few on to Costino or Hollings. Pär was right; it was taking a lot to drag most of these people out of their despair; but by the end of the second hour I could see that the mood had changed. People were coming around, slowly but surely, and a subtle but palpable excitement was growing, a blossoming sense of hope. Then Bishop Soldano tried to destroy it.

The bishop pulled himself forward and rose to his feet, silencing the entire committee. I was surprised there was any life left in him; I was surprised that he’d been listening.