Outward Bound

by Juanita Coulson

  There were more spheres, more astonishing accomplishments. Again and again Brenna replied with honest praise to Derek's eager hints for approval. The tapes didn't do New Earth Seeker justice. Brenna wasn't sure any mind could take it all in. This was humanity's most successful collective technological achievement, to date.

  The brochures had explained that it would take five weeks to complete all the cryogenic procedures. The animals would be far down on the list, to allow those crew members who were still ambulatory to enjoy them. The high-rating techs and the space-trained ship's crewmen, like Derek, would be the last to enter cryo stasis and the first to be awakened by automatic systems resuscitation. They would be needed to oversee the orbital plots and the gradual reawakening of the rest of the colonists, many years from now.

  At one point in the tour, when Derek was showing Brenna through the operating navigation section, Brenna noticed Lieutenant Chionis eyeing her. This time Brenna couldn't mistake the angry resentment in the woman's glance.

  They climbed more ladders, passed through more tunnels, toured more spheres full of equipment and people and animals. Brenna lost track of how far they had come. Her directional sense told her they were making a circuit and were now heading back toward the sphere where they had begun the tour. They must have covered two or three kilometers, at least. Low gravity made that easy. Brenna didn't feel at all tired. Growing excitement gave her additional energy. Part of the excitement was the ship's grandeur. The concept was contagious and beginning to sway her. The greater part of her excitement, though, was spending so much time with Derek, in his own territory, and sharing his joy. He was in his element, at his absolute best. Brenna was his lover and New Earth Seeker was his mistress, and they weren't rivals, for once! Brenna and Derek had been together, touring the ship, for nearly two hours, and they hadn't had a single argument!

  Once a crewman tried to interrupt them, murmuring something about the message center. Derek had shut the man off savagely, refusing to be bothered. "Take it to Carlos or Ned. I'm not on duty. Is that clear?" Derek steered Brenna out of the room, annoyed by the crewman's presumption. That was the only harsh note throughout the excursion.

  Derek finished the show in one of the observation arena bubbles, up top in the Nav Control and Guidance Systems Sphere. Plexi viewports, not scanners, gave an outlook on the universe. The effect was staggering. Brenna could see a 360-degree sweep, looking back along the awesome length of the starship toward the Sun, toward Jupiter and the constant race of satellites over its broad face and its nearly invisible tracery of rings. Then she could look "anti-Sunward" toward the stars. Derek stood close beside her, enjoying the view as much as she. "I know," he whispered. "It's breathtaking. Think what it'll be like out there."

  "You'll be in stasis," Brenna said. The idea was depressing. One of those solid, coffinlike boxes; Derek locked inside, asleep, unaware. One of thousands. This was Derek, this warm, strong, beloved person embracing her.

  "It doesn't matter," Derek said, shrugging. "I'll wake up a month before the passengers. We'll have plenty of time to enjoy the ride when we're approaching planetfall." He had no doubts whatsoever. He was sure he would climb out of that stasis box and resume his life. The proofs had been demonstrated again and again. In truth, he had far less reason to be worried in this ship than Brenna would if she ever climbed into Breakthrough Unlimited's Prototype III!

  Brenna wanted to believe. She did believe. Rows of proofs. Armies of Hiber-Ship experts. Ten years of solid, replicable results, and years before that, testing everything in the labs. They couldn't have gotten so immense a project moving if they hadn't convinced humanity's rulers. Politics was involved in it, undoubtedly—the politics of economics and exploiting the gas giants and the outer planets of the Solar System, which Hiber-Ship was doing very well; the profits fled Sunward, to Mars and to Earth, and the volunteers kept coming. Politics to show the Vahnaj that Earth was capable of reaching the stars. It had taken incalculable foresight and hope for the future for Hiber-Ship to set these wheels in motion. It was unlikely Yan Bolotin or the older sponsors would ever ride one of these colony ships or five to see the distant settlements their recruits had established. That was for mankind's future generations. A plan on a cosmic scale, extending forward by centuries, not by years.

  Uninhabited worlds. The Vahnaj guaranteed that, said they would be protected from exploitation by any other species. It was a handout, but Hiber-Ship and Homo sapiens had swallowed their pride and were taking it. Because it gave humanity the stars.

  "Brenna...?"

  "You won't be conscious when you hit your peak acceleration," she said sadly.

  Derek admitted the fact. "No. We'll all be in stasis. That's just the way Seeker operates."

  "You'll be frozen—" Brenna caught herself and corrected the term before Derek could protest. "Okay. Stasis isn't exactly freezing. That still means you won't be awake. You won't see our Sim recede or your new sun grow as, you approach it."

  Gently, Derek grasped her shoulders, holding her close by his side. He kissed her, and then they gazed out the port, into infinity. They wanted each other, and they wanted the stars.

  "No," Derek said. "But there's a world waiting for us, a new world, a whole marvelous adventure no one on Earth has ever known. I want to share it with you, Bren. It's never going to be complete for me if you aren't there. I want what we have at this moment to last forever."

  So did Brenna. To know the future. To wake up, with Derek, when Earth and Mars and the universe were older. But not to age herself. To conquer time and an unknown planet. She had been too young when Mars was being colonized, and the terraforming efforts on Venus wouldn't yield results for another hundred years, if that. But by then she could be helping tame a world no intelligent being had ever explored. She and Derek, under an alien star.

  His hands were caressing, quickening her pulse. "You planned this," Brenna said, tugging playfully at his beard. "You shameless fornicator."

  Derek suddenly grew very solemn. "No. This isn't some silly vid-comedy routine, Bren. It never has been and never will be. I want you. For all our lives. All the quaint old forms."

  Brenna was racked by exquisite sensations, fear and physical desire mingling. "It sounds so lovely. If only..."

  "It will be. We can make time stand still, Bren." His mouth met hers, and Brenna responded eagerly. The words, the moment, the shared sexuality—it all fitted together perfectly, as Derek said it would. She was convinced. For this one precious instant, she was convinced. "We're going to have a wonderful future together, out there," Derek murmured.

  Brenna had drifted out of place, out of time. But she couldn't continue at this intoxicating level. Reality intruded: memories of other people she cared about, a project to achieve faster-than-light spaceflight. "It's such an enormous gamble."

  "It's worth it," Derek said with a tolerant smile. "Think of what's waiting for us."

  "But what if ... what if you're partway there and FTL is discovered?" That problem had been debated loud and long. It wasn't merely that FTL was, at the present moment, an unproved theory that had made the difference. Those who had gone with the Hiber-Ship philosophy had to accept the whole package. Derek did.

  "We go on. It's in the charter." Brenna stared at him wonderingly as Derek added with serene confidence, "We demand the right to colonize the Kruger 60 system. It's part of a subsection in the Earth-Vahnaj treaty, Bren. Every one of us signed the agreement."

  Refusing to be rescued, even if their venture should become obsolete!

  "But, my God, Derek, think how many things might go wrong along the way. You could need help. Equipment malfunctions ... you could arrive at your colony world with too many dead humans and animal or plant stock to set up a viable culture..."

  He held Brenna close, soothing her as if she were a frightened and foolish child. "Look who's talking about malfunctions!" He didn't mean that viciously. He was merely making obvious comparisons, and so far, New Earth Seeker was provin
g out a lot better than Breakthrough Unlimited. "You can be part of it. The first Terran independent colony."

  "Oh, Derek! What's the point? You're torturing us both. Even if I agreed, there wouldn't be any room for me. The roster's complete."

  "There's room."

  A cold tingle crept along Brenna's skin. She wriggled free of Derek's arms. "What are you talking about?"

  "You're on the list. Your entry's been approved. A cubicle has been reserved for you."

  Brenna studied that handsome face. Suspicion was a Martian dust storm, rising up and engulfing her. "What about all the tests?" Those were awesome. Genetic tests. Physical fitness tests. Educational background. Mental attitudes suitable for pioneers on an alien world. Each applicant had to pass them all. But Brenna read the answer to her question in Derek's eyes. In essence, Brenna Foix Saunder passed all those tests without ever having to submit to them in person. She had qualified as a top pilot long ago. As for the rest of the record, a Saunder was almost public property. Hiber-Ship Corporation had contacts with Carissa Saunder. There wouldn't have been any problem. The publicity, for the next stasis ships, would be tremendous. A Saunder, aboard New Earth Seeker! The acceptance board would wink at the letter of the law, in Brenna's case.

  "I put your name in," Derek confessed. "It's always been on the list, ever since I enlisted in '72. I always hoped..." He tried to take her hand, but Brenna wrenched away.

  She paced back and forth, arms crossed beneath her breasts. "You planned this! The whole thing!" she exploded, her anger building. "Almost four years, since you enlisted—and all this time you've assumed that naturally I'd come to my senses, eventually, and fall into your arms. It never occurred to you to ask how I felt before you signed me aboard this oversized coffin-carrier, did it? Don't I have any choice in the matter?"

  Derek lunged toward her, seizing her shoulders, forcing her to face him. Unless she resorted to violence, she couldn't break free. "No! It wasn't manipulation. And you have a choice. You've always had one, my love." Everything he felt was in his eyes. "Who could make you choose anything you didn't want? That's one of the countless things I've always loved about you—your damned stubborn streak. All Saunder and a kilometer wide. Bren, it is your choice. I'm just telling you that you have a choice, that it's not too late for us."

  "My being a Saunder wouldn't have anything to do with Hiber-Ship's decision in the matter, would it?" Brenna demanded. "I'll bet! They've got potential investors lined up for a whole series of stasis craft. It'll be a lovely selling point if they can brag that they bagged me to go along with Captain Derek Whitcomb and a ship full of prize physical specimens. Can't you imagine the newshunters getting hold of that? True Love Conquers the Stars. If a Saunder buys it, it must be profitable, huh?"

  Derek didn't deny the accusation. His superiors had kept the possibility under wraps. If they had released the news prematurely, and Brenna didn't join New Earth Seeker's crew, the lawsuit would be historic.

  "Affirmative. But I meant what I said. Bren. Please?"

  She threw up her hands, beating at him feebly until he released her. She needed space and time to collect her wits, and Derek wasn't giving either to her. "It's ... it's a hell of a jump, philosophically and in all other ways."

  "The only real difference between FTL and Hiber-Ship stasis is technique. Both ways point to the stars. But cryogenic stasis and the Isakson photon drive are sure, safe ... and they're now."

  Brenna looked over his shoulder, at that tantalizing sight out the viewport. "I don't know. I can't just ... just make up my mind. The propulsion system is pitifully slow but proven. Colonizing a world from scratch intrigues me. I could even accept cryo stasis. But there are other elements..."

  "Such as having my children?" Derek guessed. He studied her, smiling patiently. "I know. Childbirth will be a big jump for a lot of women already on the crew list, too. But it's been going on for millions of years and likely to continue. In the Solar System, or elsewhere."

  "Under primitive conditions," Brenna said with a shudder of revulsion.

  "We have expert physicians accompanying us. It's not a naive, back-to-nature Utopia we're going to build in the Kruger 60 system..."

  Brenna shook her head. "It's primitive, compared with what we're used to."

  "What some humans have become used to," Derek corrected her. "You travel too much in elite society circles, Bren. Not every woman reproduces via a surrogate."

  That old argument. Brenna flared, "It's common and approved, even recommended for women who have difficulty carrying a child to term. For half a century or more..."

  "For wealthy women," Derek said, stressing the elitism in practices Brenna had always accepted. "Dian could have carried you to term without difficulty. Mariette Saunder could have done the same for Morgan. They chose surrogates because they were busy."

  "How dare you pass judgment? You'll never have to make that decision!"

  "No. I'm just pointing out that that isn't necessarily the only way or the best, Brenna," Derek said in his most charming, come-let-us-reason tone.

  "I'll remind you of that while you're pregnant..."

  "Dammit, Brenna! I don't want to argue. Since you want to play that game, you can speculate that your mother and Morgan's might never have chosen to reproduce at all if they hadn't been trying to get even with Carissa. Family feuding, to the nth degree..."

  "Shut up!" Brenna yelled, cut to the bone.

  Imperturbable, Derek went on. "It's true, and you know it. Is that the modern and non-primitive method you're defending? Think about it." His voice softened. "Brenna, is it so selfish and primitive for me to want you to share my life, to want you to bear my children?"

  Brenna felt cornered, though they were standing in the center of the observation deck. "Me and how many other women? Lilika? Who else? Hiber-Ship's charter was always arranged for polygamy."

  "A form of it, only temporary, to mix the gene pool until the colony's well established," Derek said with a shrug. "That has nothing to do with love."

  "Maybe Lilika isn't quite that casual about it."

  "Spirit of Humanity!" Derek threw his head back, staring up through the dome, silently praying for strength. "That! If sex is all that concerns you, you shouldn't be starving. Why be so dog-in-the-manger? Are you trying to claim Nicholaiev hasn't obliged you when I wasn't available?" Something in Brenna's expression made him stop and blink. Derek appeared genuinely taken aback, visibly shifting mental gears. "No?" He seemed confused. "Why not? He's been as obvious as a moonstruck lover on a vid comedy. If you're not falling into bed with him regularly, you're torturing the poor fool. Not that he minds. He'd follow you anywhere, just like one of Carissa's pet dogs. Your pet FTL pilot. Nicholaiev won't even complain when that damned FTL ship gets him killed—as it inevitably will—"

  The wall screen by the door clicked on. An alarm buzzed, demanding attention. Derek crossed the observation blister in three long strides and hit the reply cue. "Get the hell out of here!" he thundered at a startled crewman's image. "Leave us alone! Is that clear, mister? It's no emergency, or you'd have gone full signal! So take it and freeze it—now!"

  The screen went blank. Derek stood still, fists clenched as he took deep breaths, commanding himself to regain control. When he was calmer, he looked at Brenna.

  "You're wrong about Yuri," Brenna said with icy detachment. "If you used that as a license..."

  "I am not involved in a sexual relationship with Lilika Chionis or any other woman but you! You may not believe that, Bren, but it's true. I'm not saying there haven't been occasional hedonistic indulgences, but those were meaningless."

  So far.

  Brenna didn't say that out loud. But she thought it. Derek Whitcomb, the stalwart, handsome spaceship captain. Extrapolate a successful mission, no deaths, no malfunctions during that long journey to the Kruger 60 system. They would make planetfall. The dedicated pioneers would begin carving out their future on a new world. There was a heavy imbalance toward females
in the crew roster. Chances were very good that the dashing Captain Whitcomb would be invited to spread his genetic qualities around freely and enrich the new colony's mix.

  Could I endure that? How jealous can I be? Could I be satisfied with being his first choice, his preferred bed partner, but sharing him with others? Knowing the Hiber-Ship charter obligated Derek to impregnate other women and acknowledge paternity of their children as well as any I might conceive?

  Derek said wearily, "Face it—it isn't the sex that's bothering you. It's cryogenic stasis. It works, Brenna. Repeat: It works. You're living in the past, thinking about Jael Saunder's pulling the plug on those corpses stored in the Enclave in Antarctica. Dammit, that was Dark Ages cryo science. The woman's dead, but her superstitions are still running your life."

  "My grandmother was right to question cryo stasis in her day," Brenna replied. "Don't ridicule her. The technique didn't work in the Thirties, even though science claimed it did. She had no way of knowing what future developments would bring . .

  "Are you listening to yourself?" Derek asked scornfully. Behind his head, Jupiter seemed to be painted against a black curtain, appearing to move slowly past the viewport as the gigantic ship revolved to create gravity. "Jael Hartman Saunder was a monster. That's not my opinion, Bren; that's history. The Saunders who come after her have to live down her deeds, not admire her and follow in her footsteps. But that's what you're trying to do, my love. You're as obsessed about Breakthrough Unlimited as she was about controlling Earth through her older son's political ambitions. You and Morgan. He's as obsessed about FTL as you are, and it's left him a cripple."