Ben Bova - Flight of Exiles

“It’s all my fault!” Val suddenly burst out, her eyes filling with tears.

“Your fault?”

“I’ve come between you. Dan hates me because I picked you, not him. He wants to get rid of you…destroy you. He thinks you killed his father, deliberately. And now…and now…” She couldn’t speak anymore. She was crying.

And now he’s tried to kill Dr Loring, my foster father. Is that what she’s saying?

The Council members were already in their seats, looking deathly grim, when Larry entered the Council room. The only empty chair was Dr Loring’s.

Taking his own seat, Larry said as unemotionally as he could, “I’m sorry to be late I was in the infirmary. Dr Loring is still alive, but just barely. The medics have decided to place him in cryosleep until a surgical team is revived for an attempt to save his life.”

“If there is such a team among us,” said one of the older Council members. “I don’t seem to recall too many surgeons among our original number. Biochemists and geneticists, yes, plenty of those. But surgeons?”

Larry nodded curtly “The computer is searching the personnel files for the right people. If they’re found, I assume the Council is willing to waive the usual rules about retiring one person for each person revived? This is an emergency situation, after all.”

They muttered and nodded assent.

“And if there is no surgical team capable of helping him?” Adrienne Kaufman asked.

“We’ll just have to keep Dr Loring in cryosleep until some of our younger members can be trained sufficiently well to operate on him.”

“That could take a generation!”

“Once he’s in cryosleep safely, it doesn’t matter.”

“The old man shouldn’t have been wandering around the tubes by himself,” said a young Councilman. “Accidents can happen to the best of us.”

“Was it an accident?” Dan Christopher asked, from his seat at the far end of the table “Seems to me we’ve been having far too many accidents lately.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Larry wanted to say something, to take command of the discussion, but he didn’t know how to do it without stirring Dan’s antagonism even further.

“What was Dr Loring doing up there,” Dan asked, “at that time of night? What was he working on? His daughter tells me he’s been spending lots of his time in the observatory on some special task.”

A couple of the Council members turned to glance at Larry. He would mention Valery, Larry said to himself, trying to keep cold hatred from numbing his whole body.

“It’s no secret,” Adrienne Kaufman said haughtily. “Everyone knew that Dr. Loring was looking for other Earthlike planets, around other stars. At least, almost everyone knew.” She stared icily at Dan.

“But there’s no record of his work in the computer memory,” Dr. Polanyi said. “I ran a check yesterday, when I first heard about the accident.”

“It was no accident,” Dan said firmly “And his work was erased from the computer.”

“What?”

“How can you say that?”

“It’s ridiculous.”

Dan leaped to his feet. “Ridiculous, is it? How’d you like to see proof that there’s a murderer among us?”

Everyone started talking, arguing, shouting at once.

“Quiet!” Larry roared.

They all froze in mid-word. Arms stopped waving, voices hushed, and everyone turned to look at the Chairman.

Quietly, calmly, coldly, Larry said to Dan, “What’s this all about?”

“I’ve been checking into the computer, too,” Dan said, his dark eyes flashing. “And I’ve found something that shows there’s an organized plot to undermine our whole flight…a madman’s running loose, trying to kill us all!”

They all started jabbering again.

“Wait,” Larry said, silencing them with a raised hand. “Dan, if you have such proof, by all means, let’s see it. Right now.”

Dan jabbed at a button on the small tabletop keyboard at his place. “You’ll see it all right.”

The wall screen at the far end of the room lit up and showed a human face. Louis Christopher, Dan’s father, the driving force that made the ship, the voyage, their lives possible.

As Louis Christopher began to speak, Larry could think of nothing except the enormous likeness between father and son. The same long, lean, dark face. The same handsome features. The same intense, burning eyes.

“None of you will see this tape until I’m dead,” Louis Christopher was saying. “The fact mat you are viewing it now means that I have died. I hope that my death was a solitary affair, and hasn’t affected the performance of our ship or the success of our voyage.”

Christopher seemed to be staring straight at the camera, trying almost to hypnotize it, Larry thought. The effect was as if he was staring straight at the viewer, face to face.

“As I speak to you, our journey has just begun. Earth still looms large behind us. The stars are very far away. There are many among us who oppose this voyage, who think it’s madness. Many among us were satisfied to remain aboard this ship in orbit around the Earth forever, prisoners, exiles for life.

“We voted to aim for the stars, though, and that’s where we’re going. Still, many are grumbling. They fear the unknowns of deep space. They’re afraid of leaving Earth behind permanently.

“They may try to subvert our voyage. They may decide that they’d rather be exiles near Earth than free men among the stars. They may try to get us to return to Earth.

“That’s why I’m making this tape. Since I must now be dead, it makes no further difference to me what you do. But it does make a difference to the future generations, to our children and their children. Continue the voyage! Don’t let this magnificent ship, and our wonderfully brave people, be taken over by the fearful and timid. The stars are ours! We have the opportunity to reach Alpha Centauri and begin a new life there, on a literally new world. Reject anyone who would do otherwise!”

Several of the Council members shifted in their chairs. A few turned to glance at Larry.

“Our people have worked hard and struggled against titanic odds and risked everything they have,” Louis Christopher continued, “to get to Alpha Centauri. We’ve pledged ourselves and mortgaged future generations yet unborn to make a new world for ourselves, far from Earth’s decay and madness. You must continue until you reach that goal.

“Now let me point out another danger. It seems unlikely that the planets of Alpha Centauri will be exactly like Earth. We have, though, the means to adapt our children genetically to live on a different world. Don’t be tempted to go further than Alpha Centauri. I know the construction of this ship, its limits and capabilities. It won’t last long enough to reach another star. Settle on Alpha Centauri; to do otherwise will be to destroy the ship, the voyage, and every one of you.

“It won’t be easy to change your children physically so that they can live on a strange world. But it must be done. It is the only way. Be strong. Be brave. Good luck. And good-bye.”

The screen went dead.

For a long half-minute no one moved or spoke. Then one of the Councilmen coughed nervously, and they all turned in their seats, murmuring to each other. Dan remained standing by his chair, visibly trembling with emotion.

Larry said as gently as he could, “Is that what you call proof of murder?”

“What more proof do you need?” Dan blazed back. “He knew this would happen! He knew someone would try to subvert the whole voyage, push on to another star, get us all killed. He warned us.”

“But how does that prove he was murdered?” one of the women asked.