Slow Train to Arcturus Read online

  The other alternative, if he could not get back in that way…

  Then he could go on. The lifecraft was on the sixth bead. From what Selna had said, Abret and Derfel had run into trouble in that one too, and were captives, asking for help. Whether he could help them or not, the lifecraft held the key. That could go to its docking station and bypass the booby-trapped airlock.

  There was, of course, one small problem. The sixth bead was four more habitats away. However, as this one proved, they need not all be full of hostile aliens. And as both this one and the last had proved, the aliens didn't expect visitors. That, he supposed, was hardly surprising. Still, having to go through it all over and over again was an even worse choice.

  And there was also the small matter of his arm, and his physical weakness. Thank heavens Miran were evolved from a fairly small omnivorous species. There was little doubt that proto-Miran had lived principally by scavenging after the larger predators and the tall-stalk fructivores in winter. It had meant in his present predicament that alien food had only once made him feel very queasy, and did appear to be-in the short term at least, capable of sustaining life. In the long term, the matter might not resolve itself so happily. There were bound to be problems with the various fatty acids needed for nerve repair, for starters, and amino acids…

  The question was, how long did he have? How long before a desperate Selna attempted to take the launch window alone? How long before the alien substances killed him? How long before the bone knitted without modern medicine, but just on its own? He struggled to recall the physiology he'd studied back as a new student. The human healer had said three weeks, minimum, which worked out as twenty-one of their day-night periods. He'd been meaning to time these periods and get a precise conversion to his own time-units, but hadn't got there yet. It was-to be awkward-going to be slightly longer than a Miran day. He was sure that it didn't take that long for Miran physiology to do these sort of internal repairs. Isolate, inject bone-matrix, and rest for three days was the modern norm. If he remembered it right, stilt-legged sathin-the high-stalk fructivores of the plains-often broke those thin legs. If they could survive for eight days they could walk and feed again. Of course that healed bone would still be fragile, but it gave him a vague figure. Counting the days he had been unconscious, he'd been here for five days now. That left him with plenty of time to the launch window. But the sooner that he got back to Selna the better.

  He waited until Sister Thirsdaughter returned and then asked her opinion. "I need to go to her as soon as possible."

  "As a possible alternative to driving Brother Stephensson insane while he tries to explain the Bible to you?" said the elderly female, smiling and then remembering hastily to hide her teeth.

  "Perhaps you need to ask him to start me on this 'reading' instead," said Kretz. "Maybe with something with simpler words than in your Bible. He reads to me and I have to keep asking him what he means."

  She shook her head. "Books-other than the holy book-are vainglory. The society of healers and midwives have three texts for teaching. The Elder keeps some printed texts in trust, on the workings of New Eden, for emergencies. He has been searching them for advice on you, by the way. He has decided that you are not a demon or an angel, but something called an alien. The book said that it was very improbable that you existed."

  "Most of our scientists had decided the same about you. Then we detected your spacecraft."

  "What is this 'spacecraft'?" asked Howard, curious as ever.

  As he asked that question, Howard was still bubbling with curiosity about the books. He hadn't even known they existed! Perhaps they included information on how to fix the pipes taking water to the canal on the lower section of his holding. He was sure that the odd flanged device he'd taken a secretive look at was supposed to allow water to pass-but one way only. Instead it flooded the ground in that section.

  "This is a spacecraft," said Kretz. "Or at least this is part of one, a very big one. It is a whole world to you, but it is a spacecraft, traveling across the emptiness between the stars. We came from our world to have look at it in a very much smaller craft."

  Howard blinked. Some of that was probably being lost in translation. The rest didn't mean much. Howard knew there was an outside to New Eden. Being sent there was the ultimate sanction the council of New Eden could impose. The airlocks were shown to every youngster. The one near his own home had apparently been used long ago. But the adulterer Samsson had been pardoned by a sign from God, in that the door would not open when they tried to put him out. That episode was often used as an example of the miracle of redemption.

  "New Eden is the promise that was made to our forefathers," said Sister Thirsdaughter. "If we forsook the paths of unrighteousness, we would have a world of our own, where only the Godly would be, and our sun will not shine on the unjust, and we will be safe and secure in his love, from henceforth."

  Howard had heard that before too. It was part of the creed. But what, exactly, was the sun? Well, he had animals to feed, a cow to milk and chores to do. He could ask Kretz more that evening.

  Sister Thirsdaughter got up. "You seem too well to need my attentions, Kretz. I'll pass on your request to the council. They don't really know what to do about you. Half of them wanted to throw you out of the airlock."

  "But that is where I need to go," said Kretz.

  Sister Thirsdaughter smiled. "The outer darkness is where they believe you belong, so that'll make things easy for them."

  Of course, thought Howard, it wouldn't be quick and easy. The council would argue for weeks. Days if it was clear-cut. Brother Stephensson would want more time to read the Holy book to the heathen, for starters.

  He was right about the time, anyway. In the meanwhile Kretz wanted to see the sludge traps. And the wildlands. The alien found the strangest things fascinating.

  12

  In 2050 there was the Alpha habitat. By 2070, there were seven habitats; by 2080, there were 23; by 2100, there were 1300, and size and volume had increased seventy-fold. It is estimated that by 2500 more surface area will occupied by humans in space than on Mars or the moon. At first, these provided a haven for miners. Then, gradually as they grew larger and more environmentally stable, they became havens for more out groups, people who were poorly adjusted to mainstream of Earth society.

  From: Space and Sociology.

  May-Mertins, J., 2230,

  Wirral and Co. (Pub.)

  It was obviously all settled, thought Howard, looking at the procession of elderly brothers and sisters from the council. If it had been anything but a good verdict they'd have been accompanied by a couple of the sturdy young men, at least.

  One of the junior council members, a relatively young man of sixty or so years of age, came to call them. "Peace be with you, Brother Dansson," he said. "Will you and the stranger come out now and hear the council's decision?"

  All fifteen of them could hardly have fitted into Howard's front room. He turned to Kretz, who was sitting in the tensed up position that Howard had learned meant "nervous, extremely nervous," in the alien's body language. Howard felt, not for the first time a combination of sympathy and irritation. Sympathy because Kretz was obviously scared. This was hardly surprising, if you considered the treatment he'd had from the stripe-faced monsters, whom Howard had decided were probably minor demons of some sort.

  The alien was also obviously missing contact with his own kind. But why had he chosen to collapse into Howard's tomatoes? Besides the damage to the plants, which was considerable, Howard really hadn't needed more trouble with the Elder and the council. It had all been. .. interesting, no doubt, but he could use some peace to get on with farming. Kretz's advice had worked with the flooding pipe, and that area could be planted now.

  Howard would miss the alien's unafraid-of-mechanical-things attitude. He wouldn't mind getting his own bed back, though.

  They walked out. Kretz had insisted on wearing his own alien clothes, even though Howard had told him it was
a bad idea. "They don't like different things, brother."

  The alien had just given him the narrow-lipped look that Howard had learned was his equivalent of a smile. Howard found he'd gotten used to the expression. He knew by now what Kretz meant by it, without thinking about the matter. "It is some sort of protection against weapons of attack. It may save me from being killed."

  "I explained to you," said Howard stiffly. "We do not believe in violence. At worst the council would sentence someone to be taken to the airlock, which is what you've asked them to do to you."

  "I see," said Kretz. He cocked his head sideways, a surprisingly human gesture. "And then what has happened to those who have been put out of the airlock?"

  Howard had to admit privately the and then? part had occurred to him too. "They must go elsewhere," he said stiffly.

  "But I have explained to you what is out there," said Kretz.

  Howard shuddered. "Yes, but you say that you have to go there."

  "Indeed," agreed Kretz. "Which is why I must wear my suit. There were human suits that our second party from our spacecraft discovered in the airlock of the first habitat, but they would not fit me."

  "They won't do that to you," said Howard, suddenly feeling guilty. So what if he had had to give up his bed and had his life disturbed? They couldn't do this to Kretz. He was harmless. "You've done nothing wrong."

  "But that is what I asked them to do. Must I go and find something wrong to do, then?" said the alien, with the expression that Howard had learned meant worry rather than amusement. "I do not like milk, and although the honey is palatable, I cannot stay here. I want to go back to my spacecraft. I want to go home."

  Howard was at something of a loss. Being put out of New Eden was an inconceivable horror to him. From earliest childhood, it had been drilled into him that that was the worst thing that could happen to you.

  "Let's just see what they have to say," he said lamely. Whatever happened, at least it would stop being his problem. He felt guilty all over again about the relief that knowing this brought to him.

  They reached the semicircle of councilors. Elder Rooson cleared his throat. "Stranger," he said, refusing to acknowledge that Kretz might not be human. "You say that you come from a far-off place, outside of New Eden. You have asked our help in getting yourself back to this 'spacecraft' of yours. I have examined the Elder's texts, and they have borne what you say, although I don't pretend to understand all of it. Still, it is our God-given duty to help those in need and those in distress."

  He paused and looked at Howard. "It seems very clear to me that our duty is to assist you, to send you home to your own people," said the elder firmly. "But we find ourselves on the horns of a dilemma. To go out through the airlock has always been our ultimate sanction. It does not seem to me, or to Sister Thirsdaughter, that you are ready and healthy enough to do this on your own strength. Therefore, we will send one of our number to be your assistant, to be a strong shoulder for you to lean on, and to guide you."

  He pointed at the horrified Howard. "We have decided that Brother Dansson will accompany you. We will provide food, good honest clothes, and our blessing for your journey."

  "I thank you," said the gaudily clad Kretz. "You are very different to the aliens we met in the first habitat. As you know, I have much enjoyed seeing your animal life. What sort of animal is this 'Dilemma'?" he asked earnestly. "While my principal purpose is to return to my spacecraft, I am a scientist. I wish to learn as much as possible. There are many convergences between the life-forms on our worlds. We have a long, thin, legless creature which uses three long horns on its head to attack prey. It uses the long outer horns to trap the prey, while the inner mobile horn stabs them. Is this 'Dilemma' similar? I am curious."

  For a moment they all looked at him in silence. Then Elder Rooson laughed. The others followed. "It would appear that we've chosen the right companion for you. Someone of equal curiosity."

  Howard had stood numbed, up till now. Now, finally, he found his voice. "But, Elder… What have I done to deserve exile? Why do you send me out of New Eden?"

  "You are free to return, brother," said the old man. "That is not exile. We know that it is a great deal to ask of one of our brethren. But to be fair, you are the best suited to do it. It is the opinion of a large number of my fellows that you are the right, and possibly only person for the task."

  Kretz nodded eagerly. "I will send the… Brother back to you when I get back to the ship."

  "But no one who has been sent out of the airlock has ever come back," protested Howard.

  "No one in all the history of New Eden has been free to do so," answered the old man with a sigh. "I do wish God had not seen fit to make these things happen in my time, but doubtless he has his reasons."

  "We pray that you do not bring some evil communication back with you," said Brother Galsson sourly. Howard was sure that he had pressed for them to make this a real exile. There was also no doubt in Howard's mind that Galsson was praying that he wouldn't make it back at all, never mind bring back some problem with him.

  Howard's mouth was too dry to reply. Yes, he'd experimented with a few things to find out just how they worked. Fixed things which perhaps he shouldn't have. But did they have to exile him? Call it whatever they liked, that's what it was. From talking to Kretz, Howard was sure that the end result of exile was always death. And suddenly, life seemed very precious. It was more than mildly blasphemous to doubt your security in the hands of God. But life had handed him any number of doubts in the last while, shattering things he'd always known to be true. Maybe they were right to exile him. He couldn't have gone on, living in the closed box, now that he knew there was so much outside of it.

  It still frightened him.

  13

  Transcript of meeting 37 of the Deepspace design and Engineering team (Slowtrain project), and Sysgov Administrator Belthazar Lowe (Accounts)

  "One of the things you've got to accept, is that it isn't the habitat launch that we consider important. The gauss-rings are being set up to serve our future purposes of moving materials insystem-ice from the Oort rings, particularly-not sending a bunch of misfits outsystem or launching the Astronomy Commission's probes. Therefore the positioning and size of the gauss-rings must fit our principal purpose. You'll have to prove that to me if you want me to release the money."

  Kretz had wanted the other airlock, the airlock closest to his spacecraft. But it had defied him too, and refused to open. So they had taken the long walk to the up-pole airlock. Howard had no idea why it was called that. It just was.

  And God had not intervened to stop them going through it.

  The airlock closed behind them with a hiss. Howard looked around the metal-walled room with some horror-for good reason. There were several skeletons lying there. The grey utilitarian clothes of the brethren remained but the flesh had gone the way of all flesh. A few strands of hair still clung to some of the skulls.

  A voice spoke from the box on the far wall. "Depressurization will begin in ten minutes. Please don your suits and run through pre-vacuum-checks. Depressurization may be interrupted by pressing the red buttons, at any point. To reinitiate the sequence press the green button on the control console."

  "There is someone here," said Howard, alarmed. "Perhaps one of the ones who was exiled? Are they actually in that little box?"

  Kretz shook his head. "It will be a recording. Or a computer voice simulation."

  The thing Kretz called Transcomp had no human words for either of those devices. Or maybe it did-it extrapolated words, but Howard recognized neither.

  "We'd better look for a suit for you," said Kretz. "If this matches the design of the lock on the last habitat they should be on a rack inside that wall-plate there."

  They were. The wall-plate slid open and revealed them. The suits were ranged in a large number of sizes, hung neatly above the boots, with helmets on the top shelf. "Dress," said Kretz.

  "Do I have to put one of those on?" asked Howa
rd doubtfully. "It is our belief that the simple garb of the brethren is far better protection than clothes which serve vainglory and folly."

  Kretz felt the cloth of the homespun of Howard's sleeve. Then he lifted it to his mouth and drew breath through it. He shook his head. "It is not airtight, Brother Howard. Here. Try it on my sleeve." He held up an arm to Howard's mouth. "Breathe through it."

  Embarrassed, but obedient, Howard did. It was like sucking on a sheet of glass.

  The only reason that he could think of that such a fabric might be valuable was to keep one dry. "Is it going to be wet on the other side of that airlock?" he asked, being glad that he had learned to swim, on those frowned-on trips to the pole reservoir.

  "No. Airless, as I said to you," said Kretz. "But like being underwater, in that you cannot breathe out there."

  "Uh. Brother Kretz. I can't hold my breath for very long. I didn't actually like putting my head underwater," admitted Howard. How was something "airless"?

  "There are tanks of air here. The same as the thing that you took to be a backpack on my suit," explained Kretz.

  The idea fascinated Howard. He'd often dreamed of making a device that would have allowed him to go underwater in the end-seas. His idea had been to take a heavy bath that could be inverted and be pressed down into the water, taking the trapped air under with it. He'd even done a few simple experiments in his own bath in this direction. But it had been something that had never gone beyond the realms of speculation, really. He knew that the council would never have allowed it.

  "I think that you will have to undress first," said Kretz.

  Howard was shocked. A man did not undress before another person, unless it was his wife. Kretz was half-female, after all, even if he was not human. "I can't," he said.