Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Science fiction; Space colonies -- Fiction
Holbrook heard himself speaking fluently; the words sprang out like
warriors. "Why not be honest with yourself?" he challenged. "Look at
the facts. The expedition was to have spent a total of perhaps fifty
years, at the most, getting to Alpha Centauri, surveying, planting a
colony if feasible, and returning to glory. To Earth! Suddenly, because
of a handful of rebels, every soul aboard found himself headed for
another sun altogether. It would be almost six decades before we even
got there. Not one of our friends and kin at home would be alive to
welcome us back, if we tried to return. But we wouldn't. If Tau Ceti
had no suitable planet, we were to go on, maybe for centuries. This
generation will never see home again.
"So why did you, why did all of them, not heed the few fanatics like
Grushenko, rise up and throw themselves on our guns? Was death too high
a price, even the death of the whole ship? Or if so, you still had many
years in which to engineer a counter-mutiny; all of you were awake
from time to time, to stand watches. Why didn't you even conspire?
"You know very well why not! You saw women and grown men crying with
joy, because they were free." Bitterness seared his tongue. "Even you
noisy Red loyalists have cooperated--under protest, but you have done
your assigned duties. Why? Why not set the crew an example? Why haven't
you even gone on strike? Isn't it because down inside, not admitting it
to yourself, you also know what a slave pen Earth has become?"
Her hand cracked across his face. The blow rang in him. He stood gaping
after her, inwardly numbed, as she flung from the control cabin into
the passageway beyond.
Grushenko nodded, not without compassion. "They may claim all the
equality they will, Eben Petrovitch," he said. It was the first time he
had offered that much friendship. "But they remain women. She will make
a good wife for the first man who fully comprehends this is true in her
own case too."
"Which I don't?" mumbled Holbrook.
Grushenko shook his head.
* * * * *
And the world Zolotoy grew. They decelerated, backing down upon it. A
few whirling electrons piloted them; they stared through telescopes
and held up photographs to the light, hardly believing.
"One city," whispered Ekaterina. "_One city!_"
Holbrook squinted at the picture. He was not a military man and had
no experience with aerial photographs. Even greatly enlarged, it
bewildered him. "A city over the whole planet?" he exclaimed.
Grushenko looked through the viewport. This close, the golden shield
was darkly streaked and mottled; here and there lay a metallic gleam.
"Well, perhaps twenty per cent of the total area," he replied. "But
the city forms a continuous webwork, like a net spread over the entire
oceanless globe. It is obviously a unit. And the open spaces are all
used--mines, landing sites, transmission stations, I suppose. It is
hard to tell, they are so different from any designs we understand."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account