Ben Bova - Flight of Exiles

I’ve known him all my life, Larry thought, and now he’s a stranger.

He got up from his seat and forced himself to walk down along the table to where Dan was sitting.

“I guess you do feel okay,” Larry said, putting on a smile. He sat on the edge of the table, next to Dan’s chair. “You sure made yourself heard.”

Dan was slouched back in his seat. He looked up at Larry and asked, “Why’d you get yourself elected Chairman? We agreed that I’d take it this year.”

“I know,” Larry said, feeling rotten. “You… well, you were laid up in the infirmary, no telling how long you’d be there. The medics kept saying you were okay physically, but emotionally…”

“So you stepped in.”

“Yes.”

“And being Chairman gives you the right to marry Valery, too, doesn’t it?”

God, he can see right through me!

“Don’t tell me that never entered your head,” Dan insisted.

Keeping his voice steady, Larry answered, “You know we’ve both been in love with Val since we were kids—”

“The Lorings raised all three of us. But we’re not playing brothers and sister anymore. Are you going to marry Val?”

“That’s… up to her,” Larry said.

“She’s promised to me!”

“Computer selection. That’s not final.”

Dan’s eyes flared, but he said only, “You’re willing to let her make the decision between us?”

“Yes.”

“All right.”

Larry felt the breath sag out of him in relief.

But Dan went on, “Have you appointed a board of inquiry to investigate the fire?”

“Board of… no, we have the report of Mort Campbell’s Damage Control group. That’s enough. What, good would a board of inquiry do?”

.Straightening up in his chair, Dan said, “The cause of the fire should be investigated. Fifty people died, and we should know why. Somebody’s responsible; accidents have causes.”

Feeling bewildered, Larry said, “We know why. The circuits were overloaded, the insulation gave—”

Dan banged a hand on the tabletop. “I want a full investigation! With a formal board of inquiry. And I want to head that board. If you won’t set it up, I’ll call for it at the next Council meeting.”

“But that would be like slapping Mort Campbell in the face. After all, he’s in charge of Life Support—”

“I don’t give a damn about Campbell!” Dan shouted. “Will you appoint a board or do I have to get the Council to do it?”

Larry felt ice-chilled inside. Another try to get the Council under his own control. “All right,” he said slowly. “I’ll appoint a board. You can even be its head. But you won’t find anything that hasn’t already been found.”

“Maybe.” Dan pulled himself out of the chair and strode to the door without another word or a backward glance. The door slid shut behind him with a click.

Larry sat there alone in the Council room for several minutes. Then he went back to his own seat and punched out a phone number on the tabletop keyboard.

“Infirmary,” said a pretty nurse. Her face was ballooned many times larger than life on the wall screen.

“Give me the chief psychotech, please.”

“Dr. Hsai? I’m afraid he’s busy at the moment—”

“See if you can interrupt him, will you? This is the Chairman; I must speak to him right away.”

“Oh… yessir, I’ll try.”

The screen went blank for a moment while a part of Larry’s mind smiled a little. Rank hath its privileges. The features of a thin-faced oriental in his thirties appeared on the screen.

“Mr. Belsen, what can I do for you?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, Doctor, but this is important. I’m worried about Dan Christopher… he’s acting… well, strange.”

Hsai made an understanding face. “Yes, that is to be expected. He feels the loss of his father very deeply, you know.”

“Too deeply, do you think?”

The doctor smiled. “To paraphrase a venerable adage; How deep is too deep?”

Larry hesitated for a moment, then decided to say it. “Deep enough to unbalance him.”

“Ahhh… I see. You feel he is unstable?”

“He’s acting strangely, Doctor. Making veiled accusations. He wants to investigate the accident in which his father died. He talks as if he thinks somebody caused the fire deliberately.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Hsai thought for a moment. “Well, I had planned to check on him within a few days. Perhaps I had better make it sooner. And deeper.”

“I’d appreciate knowing what the results are.”

“Eh, the doctor-patient relationship…”

“Yes, I know. But Dan can be a very influential member of the Council. It’s important that I know whether or not we can trust his judgment.”

“I see. Well, I suppose I can give you some feeling in that regard without violating any sacred oaths.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“Very well, Mr. Chairman. I shall see him tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

Larry’s office, as chief of the Command and Control section, was actually a cubbyhole set between the ship’s bridge and the computer center. Barely big enough for a desk and a small wall-screen viewer, the office was well suited for someone who was frightened of crowds and open spaces—or for someone who hated to spend much time at a desk and preferred to be moving around the ship.

Larry went into his office and sat at the desk. Suddenly he was very tired. He ran a weary hand over his brow.

A tap at the door.

“Come in.”

It was Dr. Loring. “I am interrupting something?”

“No, not at all,” Larry said. “Sit down.” He gestured to the only other chair in the room.

Loring’s bulk seemed to make the walls bulge outward. He squeezed around the plastic chair and then plopped down on it. Larry winched as the metal legs seemed to sag.

“I wanted to congratulate you… you ran a good meeting, despite certain, ah—interferences.”

Larry nodded absently. “You know,” he mused, “I hadn’t really understood until today how likely it is that the planet we’re heading for won’t be suitable to live on.”

“Yes. That would be a disappointment.”

“Disappointment?” Larry swiveled his chair around to face Dr. Loring directly. “It’ll be a catastrophe. It’ll mean rethinking the whole purpose of this voyage. Do we really want to stay at a world that’s not like Earth, and change our children into… into something different from us?”

“Frankly, I don’t see any alternative,” Loring confessed. “We don’t know of any better planets elsewhere.”

“Well, we’d better start looking,” Larry said firmly. “I don’t like being put in a corner. I want to have some choice as to whether we stay at Alpha Centauri or not.”

Loring looked mildly shocked. “You’re serious? You would actually consider going farther?”

Larry nodded.

“But… everyone on the ship thinks that our voyage is almost over.”

“I know,” Larry said. “It might be just beginning.”

Dr. Loring shook his head, making his heavy jowls quiver. “The people won’t like it. They are not emotionally prepared for going farther. The ship isn’t built to…”

“The ship can be repaired, overhauled. The people—well, the people will make the final decision, I guess. But I’d like them to understand the alternatives. Or at least to have an alternative to Alpha Centauri.”

“We don’t have the equipment on board to study planets of other stars from the ship. We can barely make out details of the major Centaurian planet, as it is.”

“Then you’ll have to build the equipment,” Larry said.