James White - Federation World

“You can speak to them from here,” Beth said. “We can match frequencies with your radio in the city, so long as it is switched on and someone is listening.”

“They will be listening,” the doctor said.

Beth indicated the sound pickup at the doctor’s elbow. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“And while you’re talking to them,” Martin said quickly, “we’ll have to find a way of making the other Keidi listen as well. The First might be slow to warn everyone about the full extent of the danger because that would mean admitting blame for it. He is aware of the danger, as are most of the other Undes-I mean, others of the same age group, and will know what a large-scale nuclear fallout will entail. But for the younger adults, a warning will not be enough, we’ll have to include a crash course in post nuclear disaster survival. I… I’m having second thoughts. Maybe we should swallow our pride and scream for Federation assistance.”

Beth did not reply. The doctor was watching silently, plainly more interested in what they were saying than contacting his people. Martin sighed.

“I know that look,” he said. “It means you don’t agree.”

“This is a Federation hypership,” Beth said quietly. “A very potent hunk of machinery, if I do say so myself. If we call for help, they will send, quickly but with a time lapse of at least four days, another hypership that is equally capable but with a ship handler and contact specialist on board who are unfamiliar with the situation here. We will have to take additional time to explain it to them before they can even start to help us. We don’t have that much time to waste. So wouldn’t it be better if you decided exactly what kind of help is needed, then I will tell you if my ship can deliver it?”

There was a moment’s silence, during which the doctor’s speaking horn moved slowly from the sound pickup to point at Martin.

“I had assumed,” the Keidi said, “that my people were beyond help, that the radioactivity would kill all of them sooner or later, and that anything you or they could do would merely delay the end and make it, at best, only more lingering and unpleasant for the offspring of the survivors, or is there something of lasting benefit that you can do for us? Do not misdirect me. On your answer depends what I must say to my people.”

Beth was looking at him as well, her expression puzzled but hopeful. He sighed again. “Don’t expect miracles.”

“From Galactics,” the Keidi said gravely, “I don’t know what to expect. Answer me.”

“Very well,” Martin said. “Whatever we decide to do, it must be done quickly. The Keidi, all of the Keidi, must be contacted at once and the situation explained to them, and they must be made to believe the explanation. That will be difficult because of what they’ve been told about Galactics. But if you, Doctor, were to expand the message to the people in your city so that it would apply to everyone, so that it contains the information, advice, and instructions which all the Keidi will need, we could beam it to every operating receiver on the planet. Coming from you the message would be believed. As for the small or isolated families and settlements without receivers, the ship’s fabricators should be able to produce the required number of audio broadcast devices, which will be dropped on them so that they, too, will receive their instructions.”

“No problem,” Beth said.

“What instructions?” the doctor asked.

‘To go to the nearest shelter as quickly as possible,” Martin replied. “I know that some of them, those far beyond the borders of the Estate, will be quite safe for a few days or even weeks. But a warning that is hedged around with qualifiers loses urgency. Once they are safe, for a while, at least, we will have time to think about what is to happen next. My species has a proverb, ‘Where there’s life, there’s hope,’ and…”

“If there is no hope,” the doctor broke in harshly, “why needlessly prolong life?”

“We haven’t time for a philosophical discussion, Doctor,” Martin said. “Your Keidi must be instructed to go quickly to places of safety. The only safe, guaranteed radiation-proof shelters on Keida are the Federation’s induction centers. There will be a minor food supply problem there, since the reception areas have only the Keidi equivalent of coffee and sandwich dispensers, but if the price of safety is…”

“There is a major problem,” the doctor said. “Entrance to those centers was barred to many Keidi, even when they were able to elude the First’s guards. You are asking that they go to these places of safety when some of them will be forbidden entry. The movement into your shelters would not be a smooth one. There would be deep mental anguish at the thought of separating barred and eligible friends, or parents and offspring. I know my Keidi, off-worlder. They would not accept your offer of shelter under those conditions.”

Martin took a deep breath. To Beth he said, “The induction center computers are small and relatively simple. I expect, rather I hope, that the ship’s computer can instruct them to open the induction center doors, to everyone.”

Beth nodded. “A hypership main computer has the rank,” she said. “But do you realize what you’re doing?”

Suddenly she was looking frightened.

“Yes,” Martin said reassuringly, “I’m gaining time to think of a longer-term solution. First we move the Keidi under cover. There may be overcrowding in some of the centers, but they have their own, short-range matter transmitters. During my interrogations I can remember being transferred from center to center all over Earth. Here we can relieve local congestion by moving the people to areas on Keida not likely to be affected by radiation. But now we must contact them quickly and…”

“Hold!” the doctor broke in angrily. “These radiation-free areas, are they in the northern and southern latitudes, the areas which were abandoned after the Exodus for the central continent because of the climate and poor cultivation? Would you protect the Keidi from radiation poisoning only to let them die of exposure and starvation?”

“No,” Martin replied. “This vessel is powerful and versatile, so much so that there are times when it frightens even us. Shelters and warm clothing can be fabricated, sufficient food synthesized, and dropped to take care of their short-term needs, and in time a satisfactory solution will be worked out. While you prepare your message, Doctor, I will contact the First.”

“Wait,” Beth said anxiously. “That is Keida’s complete induction center network we’re opening up, to all comers.”

He knew that and she knew that he knew it. Without replying he turned to the doctor and said, “The ship can give us everything we need, except time. Do you understand enough now to be able to speak to your people?”

“No,” the doctor said, “but I shall do it anyway.”

“There is another question, however,” the Keidi went on, turning to Beth. “Is the plan that your life-mate has devised one that will be approved by your superiors?”

“No,” said Beth, “but he will do it anyway.”

As the pale blue glow that was the hush field dropped around the Keidi, Martin tried to tell himself that his offense might be considered a venial one. But one of the first directives given to a trainee contactor was that a Federation Examination and Induction Center was a highly sophisticated and sensitive assemblage of equipment which must remain in violate. Impregnable though it was from external forces, the interior contained equipment and material which should be used only for the interrogation, instruction, and processing of potential Citizens and non-Citizens. Now he was deliberately withdrawing the primary safeguards, the first and most effective line of defense, and throwing the centers open to everyone.