“Oh yes,” Reymont mumbled. “I can see that. I’m just not used to having luck in our favor.”
“Not luck,” Nilsson said. “Given an oscillating universe, this development was inevitable. Or so we perceive by hindsight. We need merely use the fact.”
“Best you decide on our goal,” Boudreau urged. “Now. Those other idiots, they would wrangle for hours, if you put it to a vote. And every hour means untold cosmic time lost, which reduces our options. If you will tell us what you want, I’ll plot an appropriate course and the ship can start off on it very shortly. The captain will take your recommendation. The rest of our people will accept any fait accompli you hand them, and thank you for it. You know that.”
Reymont paced for some turns. His boots clacked on the deck. He rubbed his brow, where the wrinkles lay deep. Finally he confronted his interlocutors. “We want more than a galaxy,” he said. “We want a planet to live on.”
“Understood,” Nilsson agreed. “May I speak for a planet — a system — of the same approximate age as Earth had? Say, five billion years? It seems to take about that long for a fair probability of the kind of biosphere we like having evolved. We could live in a Mesozoic type of environment, I imagine, but we would rather not.”
“Seems reasonable,” Reymont nodded. “How about metals, though?”
“Ah, yes. We want a planet as rich in heavy elements as Earth was. Not too much less, or an industrial civilization will be hard to establish. Not too much more, or we could find numerous areas where the soil is poisonous. Since higher elements are formed in the earlier generations of stars, we should look for a galaxy that will be as old, at rendezvous, as ours was.”
“No,” Reymont said. “Younger.”
“Hein?” Boudreau blinked.
“We can probably find a planet like Earth, also with respect to metals, in a young galaxy,” Reymont said. “A globular cluster ought to have plenty of supemovae in its early stages, which ought to enrich the interstellar medium locally, giving second-generation G-type suns about the same composition as Sol. As we enter our target galaxy, let’s scout for that kind.”
“We may not detect any that we can reach in less than years,” Nilsson warned.
“Well, then we don’t,” Reymont answered. “We can settle for a planet less well-endowed with iron and uranium than Earth was. That’s not crucial. We have the technology to make do with light alloys and organics. We have hydrogen fusion for power.
“The important thing is that we be about the first intelligent race alive in those parts.”
They stared at him.
He smiled in a way they had not seen before. “I’d like us to have our pick of worlds, when our descendants get around to interstellar colonization,” he said. “And I’d like us to become — oh, the elders. Not imperialists; that’s ridiculous; but the people who were there from the beginning, and know their way around, and are worth learning from. Never mind what physical shape the younger races have. Who cares? But let’s make this, as nearly as possible, a human galaxy, in the widest sense of the word ‘human.’ Maybe even a human universe.
“I think we’ve earned that right.”
Leonora Christine took only three months of her people’s lives from the moment of creation to the moment when she found her home.
That was partly good fortune but also due to forethought. The newborn atoms had burst outward with a random distribution of velocities. Thus, in the course of ages, they formed hydrogen clouds which attained distinct individualities. While they drifted apart, these clouds condensed into sub-clouds — which, under the slow action of many forces, differentiated themselves into separate families, then single galaxies, then individual suns.
But inevitably, in the early stages, exceptional situations occurred. Galaxies were as yet near to each other. They still contained anomalous groups. Thus they exchanged matter. A large star cluster might form within one galaxy, but having more than escape velocity, might cross to another (with stars coalescing in it meanwhile) that could capture it. In this way, the variety of stellar types belonging to a particular galaxy was not limited to those that it could have evolved at its own age.
Zeroing in on her destination, Leonora Christine kept watch for a well-developed cluster whose speed she could easily match. And as she entered its domain, she looked for a star of the right characteristics, spectral and velocital. To nobody’s surprise, the nearest of that sort had planets. She decelerated toward it.
The procedure differed from the original scheme, which had been to go by at high speed, making observations while she passed through the system. Reymont was responsible for it. This once, he said, let a chance be taken. The odds weren’t too bad. Measurements made across light-years with the instruments and techniques developed aboard ship gave reason to expect that a certain attendant of that yellow sun might offer a haven to man.
If not — a year would have been lost, the year required to reapproach c with respect to the entire galaxy. But if there actually was a planet such as lived in memory, no further deceleration would be called for. Two years would have been gained.
The gamble seemed worthwhile. Given twenty-five fertile couples, an extra two years meant an extra half hundred ancestors for the future race.
Leonora Christine found her world, the very first time.
Chapter 23
On a hill that view ed wide across a beautiful valley, a man stood with his woman.
Here was not New Earth. That would have been too much to expect. The river far below them was tinted gold with tiny life, and ran through meadows whose many-fronded growth was blue. Trees looked as if they were feathered, in shades of the same color, and the wind set some kinds of blossoms in them to chiming. It bore scents which were like cinnamon, and iodine, and horses, and nothing for which men had a name. On the opposite side lifted stark palisades, black and red, fanged with crags, where flashed the horns of a glacier.
Yet the air was warm; and humankind could thrive here. Enormous above river and ridges towered clouds which shone silver in the sun.
Ingrid Lindgren said, “You mustn’t leave her, Carl. She deserves too well of us.”
“What are you talking about?” Reymont retorted. “We can’t leave each other. None of us can. Ai-Ling understands you’re something unique to me. But so is she, in her own way. So are we all, everyone to everyone else. Aren’t we? After what we’ve been through together?”
“Yes. It’s only — I never thought to hear those words from you, Carl, darling.”
He laughed. “What did you expect?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Something harsh and unyielding.”
“The time for that is over,” he said. “We’ve got where we were going. Now we have to start afresh.”
“Also with each other?” she asked, a little teasingly.
“Yes. Of course. Good Lord, hasn’t this been discussed enough among the bunch of us? We’ll need to take from the past what’s good and forget what was bad. Like … well, the whole question of jealousy simply isn’t relevant. There’ll be no later immigrants. We have to share our genes around as much as we can. Fifty of us to start a whole intelligent species over again! So your worry about someone being hurt, or left out, or anything — it doesn’t arise. With all the work ahead of us, personalities have no importance whatsoever.”
He pulled her to him and chuckled down at her. “Not that we can’t tell the universe Ingrid Lindgren is the loveliest object in it,” he said, threw himself down under a tall old tree, and tugged her hand. “Come here. I told you we were going to take a holiday.”
Steely-scaled, with a skirling along its wings, passed overhead one of those creatures called dragons.
Lindgren joined Reymont, but hesitantly. “I don’t know if we should, Carl,” she said.
“Why not?”
“Too much to do.”
“Construction, planting, everything’s coming along fine. The scientists haven’t reported any menace, actual or potential, that w
e can’t deal with. We can well afford to loaf a bit.”
“All right, let’s face the fact.” She brought the words unwillingly forth. “Kings get no holidays.”
“What are you babbling about?” Reymont lounged back against the rough, sweet-scented bole and rumpled her hair, which was bright beneath the young sun. After dark there would be three moons to shine upon her, and more stars in the sky than men had known before.
“You,” she said. “They look to you, the man who saved them, the man who dared survive, they look to you for—”
He interrupted her in the most enjoyable way.
“Carl!” she protested.
“Do you mind?”
“No. Certainly not. On the contrary. But — I mean, your work—”
“My work,” he said, “is my share of the community’s job. No more and no less. As for any other position: They had a proverb in America which went, ‘If nominated, I will not run; if elected, I will not serve.’”
She looked at him with a kind of terror. “Carl! You can’t mean that!”
“I sure as hell can,” he answered. For a moment he turned serious again. “Once a crisis is past, once people can manage for themselves … what better can a king do for them than take off his crown?”
Then he laughed, and made her laugh with him, and they were merely human.
END
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