Poul Anderson: The Rebel Worlds

“I could not disagree more,” the admiral retorted with vehemence. “Restructuring a decadent polity—”

Flandry cut him off. “I’m not trying to convert you either. I’m simply explaining why I did what I did.” We need not tell you that I’d have abandoned my duty for Kathryn. That makes no difference any more — interior laughter jangled — except that It would blunt the edge of my sermon. “ You can’t restructure something that’s been irreparably undermined. All your revolution has managed to do is get sophonts killed, badly needed ships wrecked, trouble brewed that’ll be years in settling — on this critical frontier.”

“What should I have done instead!” McCormac disputed. “Leave my wife and myself out of it. Think only what Snelund had already done to this sector. What he would do if and when he won back to Terra. Was there another solution but to strike at the root of our griefs and dangers?”

“ ‘Root’ — radix — you radicals are all alike,” Flandry said. “You think everything springs from one or two unique causes, and if only you can get at them, everything will automatically become paradisical. History doesn’t go that way. Read some and see what the result of every resort to violence by reformists has been.”

“Your theory!” McCormac said, flushing. “I … we were faced with a fact.”

Flandry shrugged. “Many moves were possible,” he said. “A number had been started: complaints to Terra, pressure to get Snelund removed from office or at least contained in his scope. Failing that, you might have considered assassinating him. I don’t deny he was a threat to the Empire. Suppose, specifically, after your friends liberated you, you’d gotten together a small though efficient force and mounted a raid on the palace for the limited purposes of freeing Kathryn and killing Snelund. Wouldn’t that have served?”

“But what could we have done afterward?”

“You’d have put yourself outside the law.” Flandry nodded. “Same as I’ve done, though I hope to hide the guilt I don’t feel. Quite aside from my personal well-being, the fact would set a bad precedent if it became public. Among your ignorances, McCormac, is that you don’t appreciate how essential a social lubricant hypocrisy is.”

“We couldn’t have … skulked.”

“No, you’d have had to do immediately what you and many others now have to do regardless — get out of the Empire.”

“Are you crazy? Where to?”

Flandry rose once more and looked down upon him. “You’re the crazy man,” he said. “I suppose we are decadent these days, in that we never seem to think of emigration. Better stay home, we feel, and cling to what we have, what we know, our comforts, our assurances, our associations … rather than vanish forever into that big strange universe … even when everything we cling to is breaking apart in our hands. But the pioneers worked otherwise. There’s room yet, a whole galaxy beyond these few stars we think we control, out on the far end of one spiral arm.

“You can escape if you start within the next several hours. With that much lead, and dispersal in addition, your ships ought to be able to pick up families, and leave off the men who don’t want to go. Those’ll have to take their chances with the government, though I imagine necessity will force it to be lenient. Set a rendezvous at some extremely distant star. None of your craft will likely be pursued much past the border if they happen to be detected.

“Go a long way, McCormac, as far as you possibly can. Find a new planet. Found a new society. Never come back.”

The admiral raised himself too. “I can’t abandon my responsibilities,” he groaned.

“You did that when you rebelled,” Flandry said. “Your duty is to save what you can, and live the rest of your life knowing what you wrought here. Maybe the act of leading people to a fresh beginning, maybe that’ll console you.” I’m sure it will in time. You have a royal share of self-righteousness. “ And Kathryn. She wants to go. She wants it very badly.” He caught McCormac’s gaze. “If ever a human being had a right to be taken from this civilization, she does.”

McCormac blinked hard.

“Never come back,” Flandry repeated. “Don’t think of recruiting a barbarian host and returning. You’d be the enemy then, the real enemy. I want your word of honor on that. If you don’t give it to me, and to Kathryn, she won’t be allowed to rejoin you, whatever you may do to me.” I lie like a wet rag. “ If you do give it, and break it, she will not pardon you.

“In spite of your behavior, you are an able leader. You’re the one man who can hope to carry the emigration off, in as short a while as you have to inform, persuade, organize, act. Give me your word, and Kathryn will ride back in my gig to you.”

McCormac covered his face. “Too sudden, I can’t—”

“Well, let’s thresh out a few practical questions first, if you like. I’ve pondered various details beforehand.”

“But — I couldn’t—”

“Kathryn is your woman, all right,” Flandry said bitterly. “Prove to me that you’re her man.”

She was waiting at the airlock. The hours had circled her like wolves. He wished that his last sight of her could be without that anguish and exhaustion.

“Dominic?” she whispered.

“He agreed,” Flandry told her. “You can go to him.”

She swayed. He caught her and held her. “Now, now,” he said clumsily, nigh to tears. He stroked the bright tousled hair. “Now, now, it’s ended, we’ve won, you and I—” She slumped. He barely kept her from falling.

With the dear weight in his arms, he went to sickbay, laid her down and administered a stimulol injection. Color appeared in seconds, her lashes fluttered, the green eyes found him. She sat erect. “Dominic!” she cried. Weeping had harshened her voice. “’Tis true?”

“See for yourself,” he smiled. “Uh, take care, though. I gave you a minimum shot. You’ll have a stiff metabolic price to pay as is.”

She came to him, still weary and shaken. Their arms closed. They kissed for a long time.

“I wish,” she said brokenly, “I almost wish—”

“Don’t.” He drew her head into the curve of his shoulder.

She stepped back. “Well, I wish you everything good there’ll ever be, startin’ with the girl who’s really right for you.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Have no worries on my score. It’s been worth any trouble I may have had,” and ever will have. “ Don’t delay, Kathryn. Go to him.”

She did. He sought the conn, where he could see the boat carry her off and await McCormac’s technicians.

Strange suns enclouded Persei. A darkness aft hid the last glimpse of Imperial stars.

McCormac closed the suite door behind him. Kathryn rose. Rest, first under sedation, later under tranquilization, and medicine and nourishment had made her beautiful. She wore a gray shimmerlyn robe somebody had given her, open at throat and calf, sashed at the waist, smooth over the strong deep curves.

He stopped short. “I didn’t expect you here yet!” he blurted.

“The medics released me,” she answered, “seein’ as how I’d come to happy news.” Her smile was tremulous.

“Well … yes,” he said woodenly. “We’ve verified that we shook those scouts dogging us, by our maneuvers inside that nebula. They’ll never find us in uncharted interstellar space. Not that they’d want to, I’m sure. It’d be too risky, sending the power needed to deal with us as far as we’re going. No, we’re done with them, unless we return.”

Shocked, she exclaimed: “You won’t! You promised!”