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When Ala Veg realised that her husband was no more, she was seized by a
fit of rage.
Flinging the door wide open, she burst noisily into the common cabin
where the Lutons and Brat Lua were having their dinner. Lada Lua was waiting
on them at table.
Mrak Luton, flabby, pot-bellied and pompous, was presiding at the
table.
"I accuse you, Mrak Luton!" screamed Ala Veg from the threshold. "You
murdered my husband Tycho Veg! You made him charge a torpedo with a warhead
that wasn't even screened against radiation!"
Mrak Luton went purple in the face. His pendulous cheeks bulged, his
small eyes darted about frantically.
"Is this mutiny?" he wheezed. "I won't stand for it! Silence! Who
incited you, a longhead, to this insubordination?"
"My husband Tycho Veg is dead. Stand up, all of you. Honour his memory
and curse his murderer, who is sitting at the head of this table."
Brat Lua and Lada rose to their feet. Nega Luton played for time,
pretending that she had difficulty in rising from the table, but she stood
up nevertheless. Mrak Luton remained seated, frenziedly rolling his eyes and
fingering the pistol which he was holding in his hand under the table.
"There is no insubordination here, deep-thinking Mrak Luton," said Brat
Lua in a conciliatory tone of voice. "There is only the grief and despair of
a Faetess, and that cannot but be respected. We all share your grief. Ala
Veg. Engineer Tycho Veg was a good Faetian and of his own accord he would
never have begun sending torpedoes to Station Phobo."
"What? Is this treachery? Have you forgotten that all the power in
space belongs to me, the heir of Dictator Yar Jupi? Don't forget that the
ship Quest is also subordinate to me. Only I, in the name of the Blood
Council, can command it to return here in order to deliver us all to Terr,
where we can enjoy a life of ease."
"You are mistaken, deep-thinking Mrak Luton," objected Brat Lua. "There
isn't enough fuel on board the ship to ferry us all to Terr. There isn't
enough on the station either. And there is even less fuel on Phobo." "What
happened to all the fuel? You and engineer Tycho Veg were answerable for it
with your lives!"
"Deep-thinking Mrak Luton has forgotten that on his orders Engineer
Tycho Veg fuelled the two torpedo-ships sent to Phobo. A similar madness was
also committed on Station Phobo."
"Madness? Silence! How dare you, as a roundhead, condemn the Dictator's
successor? I, a Supreme Officer of the Blood Guard, remain so in space! You
are under arrest! I am going to shoot you like a crazed lizard!"
"Wise husband, I implore you," intervened Nega Luton. "Why use a
pistol? After the death of our beloved engineer, the roundhead will be the
only one left on the station who can handle the machinery. It's his duty to
provide us with the facilities."
"You are right, Nega! Thank the gentle lady, roundhead! You will simply
get away with imprisonment in my office. Quick march!"
Brat Lua meekly went ahead of the station chief, who kept prodding him
in the back with his pistol.
When both Faetians had left the common cabin, Ala Veg turned to the
remaining Faetesses.
"Isn't it enough that Faena has perished? Why must its satellite go the
same fatal way? Power, dictatorship, murder?"
"What d'you want, you poor wretch? To rise up against my husband?"
demanded Nega Luton angrily.
"You stopped him yourself. If he kills Brat Lua, then we won't have
anyone left who can understand the station's machinery, and Lada Lua might
well refuse to feed us. Then we'll all perish because of that crazy old man
of yours."
"Aren't you trying to talk me into mutiny?" sneered Nega Luton.
"Let it be mutiny, then!" confirmed Ala Veg hysterically. "If mutiny
will save us, we'll go that far."
"How can there be any talk of salvation if there aren't any spare ships
at the stations?" insisted Nega.
"There's Quest. It could fly here."
"Why? To add to our starving mouths? Or because there happens to be a
certain young man among the astronauts who has finally taken widow Veg's
fancy?"
"Shut up, you viper! Get it into your tiny lizard's brain that Brat Lua
planned an underground settlement on the surface of Mar. In such a shelter,
on Mar, the Faetian survivors could go on living."
"That's not living, that's vegetating."
"I've been wanting to say for some time," interposed Lada Lua, "that
there aren't enough fruits in the greenhouse. But my husband wanted to grow
a great many nutritive greens on the surface of Mar. There would be enough
not only for us, but for our children."
"What children do you mean?" asked Nega Luton, stamping her foot. "Have
you forgotten, you pug-nosed fattie, about the law forbidding you to have
children in space?"
"My husband said the old laws are invalid now. We're going to have a
child!"
"Criminals!" hissed Nega Luton. "They want to ruin us! There's food and
oxygen for only six here, and no more!"
"Tycho Veg is dead," said Ala Veg sadly. "Even if a tiny Lua is born to
follow him, the station will survive. But we have to think about the future.
We shall have to go down onto the surface of Mar."
"Well, of course, you'll be given a ship the way a big proprietor gets
a steamcar," jeered Nega Luton.
"I'll take the responsibility for that," announced Ala Veg.
"But first we must strip Mrak Luton of his powers."
"What?" Nega Luton nearly choked with fury.
"You must understand yourself, as a one-time lady of importance, that
you won't survive without the Luas, even if your husband starts firing
poisoned bullets in all directions. The two of you know nothing about
technology or astronavigation. We Faetesses are the ones who have got to
decide."
"Decide what?"
"Who's going to be in charge of the station."
"I will not betray my husband."
"Then you will betray yourself."
"But he won't give up his power, not for anything. And he's armed."
"The Faetesses can do anything if they act together."
"I fully support the gentle Ala Veg," declared Lada.
"Make up your mind, Nega Luton. You will be fed and looked after as
before only if you take our side."
"But I..." Nega Luton was still vacillating, glaring inimically at the
inflexible Ala Veg.
The door was flung wide open and Mrak Luton burst in like a conqueror.
He pushed out his huge belly and puffed up his cheeks to hide their
flabbiness.
"Mrak Luton!" announced Ala Veg. "You have been removed by us from your
post as chief of the station!"
Mrak Luton collapsed into an armchair, his little sunken eyes goggling
at Ala Veg.
"What did you say, madwoman?"
"I am speaking for all the Faetesses on the station. You have got to
submit to us and go into your office until your fate has been decided. Brat
Lua will run the station machinery, since we have to breathe and use up
energy. If you kill any of us now, then you will thereby bring about your
own destruction."
Nega Luton nodded in agreement.
"What? You too, Nega?" was all that Mrak Luton could manage to say, his
eyes riveted on his hook-nosed wife.
"Mrak, I'm concerned solely for the two of us. I have obtained their
agreement to take care of us and supply us with everything necessary. We
shall be in the position of proprietors."
"I refuse!" roared Mrak Luton, drawing his pistol.
However, he didn't go so far as to use it.
Ala Veg and Lada Lua advanced on him, whereas Nega held back.
Mrak Luton rose reluctantly to his feet and, still brandishing his
pistol, began backing away.
In this manner, they all went out into the corridor.
Enraged and distraught, Mrak Luton was backing towards his office door,
and the two Faetesses were crowding him. Nega Luton timidly brought up the
rear.
"I'll still settle the score with you! I'm giving way out of mercy.
I'll release that mangy roundhead purely so that he can do the dirty jobs.
But I'm not relinquishing my power! You'll never get me to do that!"
"We'll talk to you, Mrak Luton, tomorrow. But today, just think it all
over carefully in your office."
"But I didn't get all my dinner. Let them bring the other courses
here."
"We'll postpone your dinner until tomorrow. Thinking works better on an
empty stomach. We may also cut down on the oxygen supply to your office. But
not immediately, because FOR THE TIME BEING your brain cells must work
normally so that you can become reconciled."
"You're not a Faetess, Ala Veg, you're a monster."
"My husband, whom you murdered, wouldn't agree with you, Mrak Luton."
"I have never committed murder. I served the Dictator faithfully and
honestly, and I carried out his instructions. I had a secret order from him
in the event of a disintegration war. I am in no way to blame. I can show
you the inscribed tablet."
"You can do that when we put you on trial. Meanwhile, you are simply
relieved of your post."
Ala Veg opened the chief's office and let out the bewildered Brat Lua.
With a businesslike air, as if nothing had happened, Mrak Luton went inside
and sat down at his desk with dignity, pretending that he had urgent matters
to deal with.
Ala Veg locked the door from outside and invited Brat Lua into the
common cabin.
"We have to elect a new station chief," she announced.
"Why?" protested Nega Luton. "I've helped you to release Brat Lua. I
hope he will support me. I have risked losing my family happiness. You
Faetesses ought to appreciate this."
"Your husband is the criminal who murdered my husband to violate the
Agreement on Peace in Outer Space and unleash a disintegration war between
the space stations of Mar."
"They sent torpedoes against us from Phobo too," said Mrak Luton's
wife, in self-justification on her husband's behalf.
"We could have defended ourselves without attacking. And then Tycho Veg
would still have been alive."
"You have been blinded by your grief. Ala Veg. I understand you with
the heart of a Faetess. But can we talk about one death, when thousands of
millions of Faetians have perished? Remember, we need Mrak Luton as chief of
the station. We've got to survive. Smel Ven, as commander of the ship, will
obey only his orders to fly to us."
"Have you forgotten Ton! Fae's message that Smel Ven had been killed?
Besides, Um Sat was in charge of the expedition, not Smel Ven."
"The destruction of Faena has deprived me of memory and reason. What
are you counting on, Ala Veg?"
"On Terr's Faetians. They won't abandon us. But first, Mrak Luton must
be removed."
Brat Lua was listening to the women in dismay.
"Then let the gentle Ala Veg be chief of the station," proposed Lada
Lua.
"On no account!" screamed Nega Luton.
"Calm yourself, once distinguished lady. I am not making any such
claim. The chief of the station must be the one who shows the Faetians the
way to a future existence."
"Who can do that except my husband?"
"The insignificant Mrak Luton is only capable of threats. He can't even
bring himself to shoot anyone now because he's afraid for his fat belly.
He's just a stinker, and certainly not the leader of the future Marians."
"Marians?"
"Yes, Marians, that is, the Faetians who will live on Mar in the
underground cities planned by Brat Lua."
"Aren't you trying to say that the station chief should be a
roundhead?" said Nega Luton, outraged.
"What good fortune that the Lutons can't leave any descendants on Mar,"
said Ala Veg with unconcealed contempt.
"You aren't thinking of leaving any descendants, are you, Ala Veg? And
with whose help?"
"Shut up, you viper! I've lost three children and a husband; all you've
lost is your conscience."
"I refuse to agree that Mrak Luton should have his post taken over by
someone else."
"Then off you go, join your husband and think the matter over with
him."
"I haven't finished my dinner."
"You can finish dining at table with him ... tomorrow. If you have both
changed your minds."
"That is force!.."
"Brat Lua," said Ala Veg, turning to the released Faetian. "We elect
you chief of the station. We will now get in touch with the people on Phobo
and find out how they have been faring. We shall all beseech Quest to come
and fetch us."
"Quest can only set us down on the surface of Mar," said Brat Lua. "I
will shoulder all the worry and responsibility. The Faetian race and its
civilisation must be preserved. I've long had projects for installations
that, given the efforts of all surviving Faetians, can be brought to
fulfilment."
The little Faetian stood solemnly before the Faetesses as he undertook
this new mission.
After a moment's thought, he added:
"However, everything will depend on whether the Faetians of Quest agree
to abandon the bountiful and flourishing Terr and undergo fresh hardships
and perils to rescue us."
"I shall implore them!" cried Ala Veg.
"No one will risk losing happiness," said Nega Luton. "There's no sense
in Brat Lua being chief. No one will fly to the station, no one will ferry
us to the surface of Mar."
"Not everybody there is as soft-hearted as the gentle Sister of
Health," said Lada Lua.
Nega Luton bristled with indignation. How dare this insignificant
roundhead talk about her like that? But she pulled herself up at once. Lada
was now the wife of the new station chief, so Nega Luton controlled herself.
"It's just that I'm worried about us all," she muttered through her
teeth in self-justification.
"It's nearly time for the electromagnetic communications session,"
announced Ala Veg.
She left the common cabin and made for the observatory.
When she sat down at the control panel, she saw in front of her the
silvery bullet with the sharp brown prickles. She picked it up gingerly by
the blunt end and threw it into the rubbish chute through which it would end
up in space.
The signal lamp lit up, indicating a call.
"Poor Toni Fae! He thinks he's called Deimo for the last time," said
Ala Veg aloud, although there was no one near her.
Brat Lua walked into the observatory and announced:
"Mrak Luton has just informed us over the intercom that he has agreed
to relinquish his post as station chief in return for the dinner he didn't
have time to finish."
"Even his own greedy stomach's against him," replied Ala Veg.
"As the new chief, I shall have to take part in the session with the
Faetians of Quest on Terr."
"Allow me to open the session, Brat Lua. I'll try to put it as
convincingly as possible."
"The first word is yours," agreed the new chief.
The signal lamp began winking on the control panel.
Ala Veg switched the apparatus on.
Chapter Three
Stooping and breathing heavily. Dm Sat lowered himself into the
armchair before the control panel. His wrinkled face with its bushy white
beard had sagged noticeably, his eyes were deeply sunken, but watched with
their former close and sad attention. He asked Toni Fae, for the benefit of
those who had come back from the forest, to re-run the recording of the last
communications session. Ala Veg's chesty voice was heard in the cabin once
again.
"Quest! Quest! Quest! Faetians of Terr! Your brothers and sisters,
abandoned on an artificial speck of dust amid the stars, are crying out to
you for help. Around us is the cold and infinite emptiness of space. We have
no solid ground under our feet, we are feeding on the produce of the
greenhouse, which is being destroyed by endless showers of particles
discharged by the explosion of Faena. We shall not survive here unless you
come to our rescue. Quest! Quest! Quest! Faetians of Quest! Remember that
you are of the same flesh and blood as those who gave life to you and to us!
Fly to us in your ship, which we consider ours also. Fly to us in the name
of the love which shall forever be the beginning of the future and
everlasting life. The Faetians must not perish! Help us in the name of
Reason, whose heritage we must preserve. Quest! Quest! Quest!"
Ala Veg's voice fell silent.
The Faetians exchanged glances. Um Sat glanced inquiringly at Ave Mar
and Gor Terr.
Gor Terr went up to Toni Fae and rested his enormous hand on the other
man's shoulder.
"My friend Toni Fae," he said, as if his decision was the only one that
mattered. "The appeal by our brothers and sisters from Deimo will r-remain
bitter and unanswered, and it will break our hearts. I think we ought not to
maintain electromagnetic communications with space any more."
"What?" cried Mada, outraged. "Turn our backs on our own people when
they're in trouble?"
"We can't help them," Gor Terr tried to say as gently as possible. "If
we flew to the station, we would just be parasites, using up all their food
and oxygen."
"But they're hoping Quest will put them down on the surface of Mar,"
protested Toni Fae.
"Alas!" continued Gor Terr gloomily. "That's as impossible as our
r-resettlement on Deimo. We could fly as far as the space station, but the
ship hasn't got enough fuel for a braked landing on Mar."
With a column of figures written on a plastic tablet, Gor Terr
convincingly demonstrated the impossibility of flying to the Faetians on
Station Dei mo.
Ave Mar, Toni Fae and Mada understood everything perfectly. Only Um
Sat, apparently, could not wait until the engineer had finished. He took a
turn for the worse and had to be put to bed in the control cabin this time.
Mada fussed about him, trying to bring him round.
Water was needed. There wasn't any, since the reserve supply had been
used up. More would have to be fetched up from below.
When he had brought some water, Gor Terr began insisting that they
should all move into the house, which was now ready.
"The forest air is more likely to cure the Elder," he affirmed.
It was decided that Toni should stay behind at the communications
apparatus. At the next session, he could inform the Faetians on Deimo that
they could not possibly be reached on Quest.
Toni Fae was brooding silently. Mada feared for him. She carefully
locked up the dispensary so that he wouldn't be able to get his hands on an
ampoule of stupefying gas and she made Ave Mar collect up all the poisoned
bullets.
Sadly, as if saying goodbye to their ship forever, the astronauts
climbed down the vertical ladder leading out of the lower airlock.
Um Sat, whom they wanted to carry refused to be helped and actually
went down the ladder himself with Mada supporting him.
The path that the Faetians took as they carried the various gear from
the ship turned slippery. Gor Terr nearly fell down.
"Don't stray off the tr-rack," he warned anxiously.
The building with its sloping roof appeared among the trees.
In his time, Ave Mar, accustomed to the round buildings of Danjab,
would have thought the house ugly, but the change from a round rocket to a
rectangular structure now seemed right. He even sighed with relief; they had
a refuge for long cycles of their forthcoming life.
Suddenly, a tawny shadow darted across the window.
Ave Mar gripped Gor Terr by the arm. He too had noticed something
suspicious and he headed determinedly for the house. The door had not yet
been made.
On the threshold, Gor Terr collided with an enormous Faetoid with bared
fangs. He charged at it, unaware that this was Dzin showing her teeth in the
semblance of a smile. He grabbed the uninvited guest by the paw and nimbly
threw her over his shoulder so that she landed on some tree-stumps nearby.
She jumped up and fled howling into the forest.
In this way, an "attack" by Faetoids on the house was beaten off.
The Faetians went through the doorway.
Gor Terr screwed up his nose in distaste. There was an animal stench
inside.
Mada opened the windows to air the place.
"Home at last," she said with relief.
'Tarn afraid," said Um Sat, "that for a long time the Faetians will
have to prove that this is their home."
"Just let those filthy beasts try to barge in again!" roared Gor Terr.
"I was afraid you were going to kill our uninvited guest," confessed
Ave Mar.
"I would have done so, if I hadn't thought it was Dzin. We owe her so
much."
"Dzin?" asked Mada, on the alert "Really?"
"Settle yourselves in," suggested Gor Terr. "I'll go to meet Ton! Fae,
otherwise he might be met by someone else."
Mada smiled as he left. Such friendship between Faetians was a joy to
her.
Ave began fashioning a door, skilfully wielding a home-made axe. The
Faetoids might attack the sleeping Faetians in the night As he barred the
windows and the door, he wondered what the future held in store for them
all: it would be bleak enough if they had to live in a permanent state of
siege.
When the windows had been barred with stakes, the atmosphere in the
house had a depressing effect on Mada. As she watched the imperturbable Ave,
however, she too was filled with confidence.
Twilight was deepening. Mada felt uneasy as she thought about Toni Fae
and Gor Terr. The fate of the faraway Faetians on Deimo also gave her no
peace of mind. How she wished that all the survivors could be together!
Mada peered out of the window through the stakes. It was totally dark
in the forest. Tired after his walk, Um Sat was sound asleep. Mada had given
him a whiff of stupefying gas from an ampoule.
Ave was admiring his newly-made door, rough-hewn, but solid. He locked
it for the first time.
Mada looked at it regretfully.
"Ave, wasn't it you who said that the Faetians must preserve the
civilisation of their ancestors?"
"Of course, and I shall go on saying it."
"Then how is it that we, as carriers of civilisation, could abandon in
space the Faetians who are so close to us? Is there no way of bringing them
to join us? If we could only find fuel here!.."
Ave Mar heaved a sad sigh.
"Even the fuel we found here wouldn't help. We wouldn't be able to
process it the way they used to in Faena's fuel workshops. Where are we to
get all the pipes and distil ling spheres?"
"Surely Engineer Gor Terr will think of something?"
"Hardly..."
"Couldn't we fly to Deimo and all work together to extend the
greenhouse, improve the machinery and still live together? I'm afraid of
staying here on a hostile planet. It's not at all what it seemed on that
first day. D'you remember the watering place, with the baby reindeer and the
beast of prey drinking together in peace? But now?"
The door opened with a creak. Mada jumped up and seized Ave by the arm.
Gor Terr was standing in the doorway. He moved aside to admit a distraught
and dejected Toni Fae.
Mada rushed over to him, clasped him to her breast and began sobbing.
"Was there a session?" asked Ave Mar.
Trying to control himself, Toni Fae replied:
"It would have been better to die than hear the answer that Ala Veg
came out with when she heard our refusal."
"R-refusal? It's an impossibility!" interrupted Gor Terr.
"She was sobbing. Sobs have never been broadcast over the air before.
It was too much. Only why did Mada take the yellow ampoule from me?.."
"Calm yourself, my dear Toni Fae. I'll give you a whiff from that
ampoule in a moment. Look how well Dm Sat is sleeping."
"But how can I sleep in peace if out there, on Deimo, Ala Veg has given
up all hope and has lost faith in the power of love? I would fly to her
without a second thought."
Ave and Mada exchanged glances.
Mada gently calmed Toni Fae down. Sitting by the window stakes, Gor
Terr was plunged in gloom. The damp came wafting in from the forest. It had
started raining again. The Faetians couldn't possibly have imagined so much
water coming down from the sky. There had never been anything like it on
Faena.
Toni dozed off, but tossed and turned, moaning in his sleep.
Ave Mar squatted down at the rough-hewn table, took a split branch and
began making marks on it.
Gor Terr, his shoulders hunched, was still sitting by the window. He
looked like a huge boulder. He was asleep.
Exhausted by all she' had been through during the day, Mada settled
down on some bedding not far from Dm Sat and Toni Fae, who were sleeping
side by side.
Ave Mar was doing his best to save the batteries for the portable lamp.
He switched it off and lit a taper which he had improvised out of a resinous
splinter similar to the one he had split to make a tablet.
The rain finally stopped in the morning, the wind dispersed the clouds
and Sol peeped into the Faetians' new house. A mother-of-pearl footpath
showed through the trees, the water on it shimmering.
Mada, barely awake and already busy with the household chores,
instantly noticed a change in Ave.
Gor Terr was in a bad mood.
Mada offered everyone some plain food, economising in the stores
brought from the ship.
"If only you'd heard her voice," said Toni Fae to no one in particular.
Gor Terr exploded.
"They're selfish! All they think about is themselves. Who gave them the
r-right to demand such a sacrifice of us as the r-re-fusal to live on a
bountiful planet? And they're the ones who tried to blow up a space station
like their own! If I was deciding whether we should fly to them or not, I
wouldn't allow it!"
Mada was frightened to detect a familiar ring in his booming bass
voice.
Toni Fae looked dismally at his friend.
'They're not all in the wrong. We've got to distinguish between the
station chief, the Supreme Officer of the Blood Guard, and Ala Veg and the
roundhead Luas, neither of whom is in the least to blame."
"And there are some Faetians on Phobo who aren't in the least to blame
either," interposed Mada.
"No matter how many of them there may be, how can we possibly help
them?" snapped Gor Terr.
"It's not quite like that," intervened Ave suddenly.
All turned to look at him. Even Dm Sat, lying on a bench near the
table, tried to raise himself on one elbow.
"I did some calculations during the night Gor Terr, as an engineer,
could verify them."
"A specialist on elementary particles has been checking the engineer
who designed the spaceship Quest?" inquired Gor Terr darkly.
"Excuse me, Gor Terr, but I've been going through your calculations and
I found them correct"
"Well, well!.. I'm so glad," said Gor Terr, heaving a sigh of relief.
"What a pity!" responded Toni Fae.
"Even so, Gor Terr's calculations can be taken further."
"R-really?" Gor Terr looked sharply round at Ave Mar.
"His calculations were based on the assumption that all the Faetians of
Quest must fly to Deimo."
"But of course! How can we possibly split up?" exclaimed Mada.
"Only by doing that could we save the civilisation of Faena."
"Let Ave clarify his idea," requested Dm Sat.
"To economise in fuel for Quest, only two of us must go up in her, not
five. Then the remainder of the fuel plus the reserves of fuel on Deimo and
Phobo will enable us to deliver the Faetians on the space stations to Mar.
Quest, of course, will not be able to return to Terr."
"Which means," shouted Toni Fae, "that only one Faetian can go with the
pilot Gor Terr!"
"Ave Mar can also fly the ship," commented Gor Terr. "After all, he's
been fighting so hard for the preservation of Faena's culture."
Mada looked at her husband in alarm.
"I haven't had the time to discuss it with Mada, but she can express
her opinion now.
In the name of Reason, I am prepared to stay on Terr if Mada stays with
me. True, after Quest has gone, we'll be living like savages who will from
then on have to make axes and arrowheads out of stone."
"I am prepared to stay with my Ave," said Mada, "as I would be prepared
to fly with him to Deimo."
"Then I can fly with Gor Terr!" whispered Toni Fae with unconcealed
joy.
"No," objected Ave firmly. "If a great sacrifice has to be made in the
name of Reason, then the continued Faetian civilisation on Mar can only be
headed by Faena's Great Elder, Urn Sat, its first man of learning."
Toni Fae buried his head in his hands.
Dm Sat looked at him with compassion and said:
"I am old and ill. Is it worth counting on me when you speak of a new
civilisation on Mar?"
"Surely it is not for a Great Elder to live like a savage in the
primeval forest?" objected Ave. "That is the lot of the younger ones."
"I agree to anything," said Toni Fae in a dead voice.
"I swear it's not going to be like that!" Gor Terr suddenly banged his
fist on the table. "Urn Sat will, of course, fly on Quest to head the
civilisation of the Marians. They'll have to apply the technology of the
space stations. Without technology, the Marians won't survive. However, it
is not Engineer Gor Terr who will fly to Mar with the great scientist, but
his fr-riend Toni Fae."
"But I can't fly spaceships!" exclaimed the agitated Toni Fae.
Mada looked admiringly at Gor Terr.
"I'm r-right, am I not?" continued Gor Terr. "Those who stay behind on
Terr won't have it any easier than the ones flying to Mar. They'll have to
fight for every step they take in this confounded forest. Toni Fae would
find it hard protecting the family of Ave and Mada here."
"But I can't fly spaceships," repeated Toni Fae sadly.
"You'll learn. Let the first university also start work in this first
house, knocked together on Terr. It will have only one student, but three
professors: the gr-reat scientist Um Sat, his celebrated pupil Ave Mar and
the modest engineer, Gor Terr."
"Two professors will eventually become savages," said Ave Mar with a
smile. "Gor Terr has just shown us what true friendship is. I will undertake
to help Toni Fae in every way so that he can fly to Deimo with Um Sat"
The Elder rose from his bench.
"However hard the history of future generations of Terrans and Marians
may be, it is a good thing that it begins with such noble sentiments!"
Tears were trickling down the old man's wrinkled face.
There was never a more terrible day than the one when Quest had to lift
off from Terr for space.
Left behind on Terr, Ave Mar, Mada and Gor Terr tried not to show what
it cost them to see the others off.
The giant rocket loomed above the forest like a pointed tower. The last
farewells were imminent.
The Elder embraced in turn each of the two sturdy, strong Faetians who
were staying behind on the alien planet. Would they be able to survive?
Then Mada came up to him. Resting her head on his white beard, she
raised her head and said something. The Elder drew her close to him and
kissed her hair.
"Does Ave Mar know about it yet?"
"No, not yet," replied Mada.
"May Reason remain to live on in your descendants!"
Ave Mar, who had just come up, understood everything without having to
be told. He hugged his wife in gratitude.
When Um Sat followed by Toni Fae, climbed with difficulty up the
vertical ladder, he looked round and called:
"At least teach them how to write!"
Gor Terr understood and smiled bitterly.
"They'll have to learn hunting, not writing. And how to make stone
axes!"
The Elder disappeared through the hatch.
As the engines fired, the three Faetians moved away from the rocket and
raised their hands in a last farewell. They were seeing off forever those
who, in the name of Reason, were taking away with them the heritage of
Faetian civilisation.
Clouds of black smoke burst out from under the rocket.
In the dense forest, the trees were dotted with shaggy Faetoids. With
malignant curiosity, they watched their two-legged victims, who were to be
eaten in the gully.
The strongest of the Faetoids would seize the hairless ones and not let
them return to their "cave without rocks".
Suddenly, under the smooth stone tree into which two of the hairless
ones had disappeared, such a terrible thunder roared that even the fiercest
of the Faetoids fell from their branches. Then, from under the smooth stone
tree, black clouds billowed forth, as before the water falling from above,
and flames gushed forth.
The beasts fled helter-skelter in all directions.
The path to the house of the depleted Faetians on Terr had been
cleared.
This time they were able to return to their refuge, not suspecting
that, in dispersing their enemies, their departed friends had rendered them
their last service.
Chapter Four
After picking up all the Faetians from Station Deimo, Quest was
approaching Phobo. An increasingly brilliant star was already conspicuous in
the porthole.
Vydum Polar, Phobo's engineer, had become the new station chief.
When the disintegration war began on Faena and when Phobo and Deimo
each sent out two torpedoes, the young Faetians on Phobo, insisting on a
peaceful visit by spaceship to Deimo and outraged by the station chief's
conduct, had replaced Dovol Sirus even before the destruction of Faena and
before communicating with Deimo about the changes on Phobo.
Dovol Sirus had not resisted. He had even willingly surrendered his
powers to Vydum Polar, believing that at last he was going to get some peace
of mind and all his worries would be shouldered by the inventor. He was,
however, cruelly mistaken.
Quest flew to Phobo with all Deimo's Faetians and with Dm Sat and Toni
Fae from Terr.
Vydum Polar and Ala Veg had to sit with Dm Sat in order to pass
judgement on the war criminals. Um Sat named them as the Lutons and Dovol
Sirus.
The concave cabin walls were hung with landscapes of Faena-forests,
meadows, rivers, towns and seas that did not exist any more.
Terrified and outraged, totally unprepared for such a state of affairs,
the accused sat before the judges on a black bench and behind, against the
silvery walls, stood all the Faetians left in space.
The space station always turned on its axis. The gigantic sphere of Mar
kept appearing in the portholes and floating away again with inexorable
regularity. The baleful, reddish-brown colours of the planet during the
strange, swift-passing night alternated in the cabin with the daytime glow
of Sol.
Um Sat proved to be a Faetian with a will of iron. He had been
seriously ill on Terr and had only fully recovered on the journey. Now,
enormously tall, white-haired and white-bearded, he had vigorously taken
charge of the Faetian colony. The first thing he had done was to put the war
criminals of space on trial. He now sat calmly at the table, rhythmically
tapping it with his finger.
The interrogation began. Vlasta Sirus, smirking nastily, put up an
evasive and spirited resistance.
"The self-appointed court has no right to try us. There are no laws in
space and you cannot pass sentence."
"The law is the will of the Faetians here," replied Um Sat firmly. His
knitted brows boded ill for the accused. He glanced significantly at the
landscapes in their frames, which were now black in token of mourning.
The old scientist inspired Vydum Polar with great respect. He did not
look like the other men of learning who had refused to recognise him. On the
contrary, Um Sat was interested in Vydum's inventions and immediately
invited him to implement Brat Lua's project.
In spite of her assumed arrogance, Vlasta Sirus had the shivers. She
looked pathetic, although her tone of voice was defiant.
"Then look for war criminals among the chiefs of the space stations,
not among the serving girls."
These words aroused general laughter among the Faetians, who knew the
real part played by Phobo's greenhouse nursery-woman.
General Dovol Sirus, gasping at the insult to his wife, was forced to
confirm that the decision to send torpedoes to Deimo had been suggested by
Vlasta. When he was being questioned, he would hastily jump to his feet,
though with an effort. He was now very annoyed, emphasising this in every
possible way.
"I can only be condemned for weakness of character in my family life
and not for my military actions. I am only a Faetian businessman. My
general's rank was conferred on me for the trade-mark of the munitions
workshops. As a Faetian businessman, I was intending to acquire territory on
Mar so as to sell plots of land at a profit to the Faetian settlers." And he
smiled trustingly.
"Whom did you force to prime the disintegration torpedoes?" asked Ala
Veg bluntly.
"I primed them myself."
"Was it safe?" asked Ala Veg, pursuing her inquiry further.
"Absolutely. The warheads were well screened to prevent radiation."
"So at no risk to yourself, you took measures to destroy Deimo?" Ala
Veg was remorselessly driving the accused into a corner.
"I had to come to terms with fear. I mean above all my fear of my wife,
Vlasta Sirus," replied Dovol Sirus, wiping the perspiration from his bald
patch.
"I was right not to trust the Faetians on Deimo," interposed Vlasta
Sirus. "They were the first to try and destroy our Phobo."
"But wasn't Vlasta Sirus plotting the same move against Deimo?" asked
Vydum Polar, coming forward.
Vlasta Sirus glared from under close-knit black eyebrows with contempt
at her failure of a son-in-law who had dared to condemn her.
"War isn't a picnic," she said defiantly.
"Did the accused really not know of the Agreement on Peace in Outer
Space?" Um Sat reminded her, calmly pouring himself some water and motioning
to Dovol Sirus that he could sit down.
"How could that be known to a simple nurserywoman who was serving in
space for the benefit of the Faetians?" said Vlasta, lowering her eyes.
At this point, even her meek spouse jumped up again and shouted:
"All of us here knew about it!"
"Then why did you lay in torpedoes for the station?" inquired Ala Veg
nastily, looking the former chief of Phobo straight in the eye.
"The Faetians on Deimo couldn't be trusted." And Dovol Sirus smiled
disarmingly at her again.
"And what has the former chief of Deimo, Supreme Officer of the Blood
Guard Mrak Luton, to say about his misbehaviour?" asked Um Sat.
Mrak Luton rose heavily to his feet.
"I, at least, don't vegetate under someone's heel. I am a soldier. I
was carrying out the orders given to me. Here is an order from Dictator Yar
Jupi. I was under obligation to carry it out in the event of a
disintegration war. I cannot be condemned for my integrity as a soldier. The
one to blame is certainly not me, his officer, but Yar Jupi himself, who
violated an order he had signed in person." Mrak Luton laid the written
tablets down on the table.
"Mrak Luton, did you know that the warhead was not screened and that it
was lethally dangerous to be anywhere near it; yet you still drove my
husband Tycho Veg to certain death?"
Mrak Luton grinned and shrugged his fat shoulders.
"An officer sent his soldier ahead in battle. There was a war on."
"The reference to war is irrelevant," observed Um Sat. "It shouldn't
happen on a planet, much less in space, for war is an unjustifiable crime."
"Even if it is defensive?" asked Mrak Luton challengingly.
"A disintegration weapon is an attack weapon. It can never be
defensive."
"The inventor of the disintegration weapon, of course, has a clearer
idea of what to call it," commented Vlasta Sirus maliciously. "Perhaps it
would be more correct to condemn the one who created this weapon, not the
ones who were forced to use it! But he is passing judgement!" And she sighed
heavily with affected bitterness.
"Very well, then! Condemn me, Um Sat, scientist of matter, because I
made my discovery public on two continents simultaneously, hoping that the
fear of exterminating all living things would prevent the insanity of wars;
condemn me because I did not ban dangerous knowledge as I would do now. But
those who, after surviving in space, used that knowledge to harm others-they
should answer for their crimes."
The Elder had remained true to himself. As before, he had not been
learned in the profundities of the soul; he still thought that it was enough
to punish the guilty and ban dangerous knowledge for all time so that evil
would be averted. But he was the oldest of the survivors, no one could doubt
his integrity, and so he was putting on trial those guilty of a
disintegration war in space. An unfamiliar harshness rang in his voice and
his eyes burned darkly.
Vlasta Sirus cringed at his words as if she were being whipped.
It was hard to tell from the faces of the judges what was in store for
the accused.
Unlike Vlasta Sirus, Nega Luton was completely crushed at being judged
by Ala Veg, of all people!..
Lada Lua came up to the judges' table. She was embarrassed and didn't
know what to do with her red hands.
"The gentle lady Nega Luton is in no way to blame. When the station
chief had to be removed, she sided with us Faetesses on Deimo."
"Will Ala Veg confirm that?" asked Vydum Polar.
"I confirm it," said Ala Veg to her rival's great astonishment. "Mrak
Luton went mad with fury when his wife refused to obey him. She is only to
blame for wanting to become first lady of the station."
Nega Luton flushed. Better she had been condemned than made to hear
such words. She could have incinerated her judges with a single glance.
Ala Veg sat with lowered eyes, and Ton! Fae, standing behind all the
Faetians, watched her admiringly. How beautiful she was, and how
fair-minded!
The great Elder read out the court's sentence.
Dovol Sirus, Vlasta Sirus and Mrak Luton were guilty of launching
disintegration torpedoes with the intention of destroying space stations and
were sentenced to imprisonment on Station Phobo. They would not be taken to
Mar. They would provide their own services for the rest of their days: they
would be left the necessary machinery and the greenhouse.
Nega Luton was acquitted and would be taken to Mar.
Mrak Luton stamped his foot when he heard the sentence.
"This is violence! This is lawlessness! This is a crime!" He began
foaming at the mouth. He clutched at his heart and collapsed into his chair.
Dovol Sirus watched him in fright. "I implore you," he whined, "don't
leave a maniac with us. Send him back to Deimo... He is a Supreme Officer of
the Blood Guard, after all. His hands are steeped in blood."
"Certain Faetians claim to be fair-minded, but they want to destroy us
without mercy!" shrieked Vlasta Sirus. "So let them fly away! We're
banishing them from our station! We're sending them into exile on barren
deserts! Exile! Exile! Exile!"
The Faetians gradually dispersed, trying not to look at the condemned.
Nega Luton went up to the judges.
"Thank you for acquitting me. But please leave me with the condemned."
Vydum Polar eyed Nega Luton closely and with distaste. He didn't
believe that she wanted to stay behind with that flabby, corpulent Faetian
who was choking with rage. This was more likely a matter of calculated
self-interest: there would be less work to do on the station than on
inhospitable Mar, where they would be compelled to build underground refuges
for the Faetians and their descendants.
Vydum Polar was right, but he still hadn't reckoned with Nega Luton's
obsessive hatred for Ala Veg at the time.
It took a considerable time to complete Brat Lua's project, augmented,
as it was, with many of Vydum Polar's own technical ideas.
It was possible to build an underground settlement with an artificial
atmosphere, constantly purified and enriched with oxygen.
Quest was preparing for its last trip.
Station Phobo would forever be an artificial satellite of the planet
Mar.
Since only nine instead of thirteen Faetians were landing on the
planet, this meant that they could take with them considerably more cargo,
technical appliances, instruments and inscribed tablets for study by future
Marians.
Vydum Polar envisaged an acute shortage of the metal necessary to build
underground shelters with an artificial air supply, and so he suggested
dropping part of Station Phobo onto the planet's surface. This would entail
dismantling a third of the station's structure and fitting it with one of
the remaining defence rockets.
Station Phobo was much bigger than Station Deimo. A reduction in its
accommodation space would not affect the future life of the condemned.
Needless to say, they themselves refused point-blank to take part in
fit of rage.
Flinging the door wide open, she burst noisily into the common cabin
where the Lutons and Brat Lua were having their dinner. Lada Lua was waiting
on them at table.
Mrak Luton, flabby, pot-bellied and pompous, was presiding at the
table.
"I accuse you, Mrak Luton!" screamed Ala Veg from the threshold. "You
murdered my husband Tycho Veg! You made him charge a torpedo with a warhead
that wasn't even screened against radiation!"
Mrak Luton went purple in the face. His pendulous cheeks bulged, his
small eyes darted about frantically.
"Is this mutiny?" he wheezed. "I won't stand for it! Silence! Who
incited you, a longhead, to this insubordination?"
"My husband Tycho Veg is dead. Stand up, all of you. Honour his memory
and curse his murderer, who is sitting at the head of this table."
Brat Lua and Lada rose to their feet. Nega Luton played for time,
pretending that she had difficulty in rising from the table, but she stood
up nevertheless. Mrak Luton remained seated, frenziedly rolling his eyes and
fingering the pistol which he was holding in his hand under the table.
"There is no insubordination here, deep-thinking Mrak Luton," said Brat
Lua in a conciliatory tone of voice. "There is only the grief and despair of
a Faetess, and that cannot but be respected. We all share your grief. Ala
Veg. Engineer Tycho Veg was a good Faetian and of his own accord he would
never have begun sending torpedoes to Station Phobo."
"What? Is this treachery? Have you forgotten that all the power in
space belongs to me, the heir of Dictator Yar Jupi? Don't forget that the
ship Quest is also subordinate to me. Only I, in the name of the Blood
Council, can command it to return here in order to deliver us all to Terr,
where we can enjoy a life of ease."
"You are mistaken, deep-thinking Mrak Luton," objected Brat Lua. "There
isn't enough fuel on board the ship to ferry us all to Terr. There isn't
enough on the station either. And there is even less fuel on Phobo." "What
happened to all the fuel? You and engineer Tycho Veg were answerable for it
with your lives!"
"Deep-thinking Mrak Luton has forgotten that on his orders Engineer
Tycho Veg fuelled the two torpedo-ships sent to Phobo. A similar madness was
also committed on Station Phobo."
"Madness? Silence! How dare you, as a roundhead, condemn the Dictator's
successor? I, a Supreme Officer of the Blood Guard, remain so in space! You
are under arrest! I am going to shoot you like a crazed lizard!"
"Wise husband, I implore you," intervened Nega Luton. "Why use a
pistol? After the death of our beloved engineer, the roundhead will be the
only one left on the station who can handle the machinery. It's his duty to
provide us with the facilities."
"You are right, Nega! Thank the gentle lady, roundhead! You will simply
get away with imprisonment in my office. Quick march!"
Brat Lua meekly went ahead of the station chief, who kept prodding him
in the back with his pistol.
When both Faetians had left the common cabin, Ala Veg turned to the
remaining Faetesses.
"Isn't it enough that Faena has perished? Why must its satellite go the
same fatal way? Power, dictatorship, murder?"
"What d'you want, you poor wretch? To rise up against my husband?"
demanded Nega Luton angrily.
"You stopped him yourself. If he kills Brat Lua, then we won't have
anyone left who can understand the station's machinery, and Lada Lua might
well refuse to feed us. Then we'll all perish because of that crazy old man
of yours."
"Aren't you trying to talk me into mutiny?" sneered Nega Luton.
"Let it be mutiny, then!" confirmed Ala Veg hysterically. "If mutiny
will save us, we'll go that far."
"How can there be any talk of salvation if there aren't any spare ships
at the stations?" insisted Nega.
"There's Quest. It could fly here."
"Why? To add to our starving mouths? Or because there happens to be a
certain young man among the astronauts who has finally taken widow Veg's
fancy?"
"Shut up, you viper! Get it into your tiny lizard's brain that Brat Lua
planned an underground settlement on the surface of Mar. In such a shelter,
on Mar, the Faetian survivors could go on living."
"That's not living, that's vegetating."
"I've been wanting to say for some time," interposed Lada Lua, "that
there aren't enough fruits in the greenhouse. But my husband wanted to grow
a great many nutritive greens on the surface of Mar. There would be enough
not only for us, but for our children."
"What children do you mean?" asked Nega Luton, stamping her foot. "Have
you forgotten, you pug-nosed fattie, about the law forbidding you to have
children in space?"
"My husband said the old laws are invalid now. We're going to have a
child!"
"Criminals!" hissed Nega Luton. "They want to ruin us! There's food and
oxygen for only six here, and no more!"
"Tycho Veg is dead," said Ala Veg sadly. "Even if a tiny Lua is born to
follow him, the station will survive. But we have to think about the future.
We shall have to go down onto the surface of Mar."
"Well, of course, you'll be given a ship the way a big proprietor gets
a steamcar," jeered Nega Luton.
"I'll take the responsibility for that," announced Ala Veg.
"But first we must strip Mrak Luton of his powers."
"What?" Nega Luton nearly choked with fury.
"You must understand yourself, as a one-time lady of importance, that
you won't survive without the Luas, even if your husband starts firing
poisoned bullets in all directions. The two of you know nothing about
technology or astronavigation. We Faetesses are the ones who have got to
decide."
"Decide what?"
"Who's going to be in charge of the station."
"I will not betray my husband."
"Then you will betray yourself."
"But he won't give up his power, not for anything. And he's armed."
"The Faetesses can do anything if they act together."
"I fully support the gentle Ala Veg," declared Lada.
"Make up your mind, Nega Luton. You will be fed and looked after as
before only if you take our side."
"But I..." Nega Luton was still vacillating, glaring inimically at the
inflexible Ala Veg.
The door was flung wide open and Mrak Luton burst in like a conqueror.
He pushed out his huge belly and puffed up his cheeks to hide their
flabbiness.
"Mrak Luton!" announced Ala Veg. "You have been removed by us from your
post as chief of the station!"
Mrak Luton collapsed into an armchair, his little sunken eyes goggling
at Ala Veg.
"What did you say, madwoman?"
"I am speaking for all the Faetesses on the station. You have got to
submit to us and go into your office until your fate has been decided. Brat
Lua will run the station machinery, since we have to breathe and use up
energy. If you kill any of us now, then you will thereby bring about your
own destruction."
Nega Luton nodded in agreement.
"What? You too, Nega?" was all that Mrak Luton could manage to say, his
eyes riveted on his hook-nosed wife.
"Mrak, I'm concerned solely for the two of us. I have obtained their
agreement to take care of us and supply us with everything necessary. We
shall be in the position of proprietors."
"I refuse!" roared Mrak Luton, drawing his pistol.
However, he didn't go so far as to use it.
Ala Veg and Lada Lua advanced on him, whereas Nega held back.
Mrak Luton rose reluctantly to his feet and, still brandishing his
pistol, began backing away.
In this manner, they all went out into the corridor.
Enraged and distraught, Mrak Luton was backing towards his office door,
and the two Faetesses were crowding him. Nega Luton timidly brought up the
rear.
"I'll still settle the score with you! I'm giving way out of mercy.
I'll release that mangy roundhead purely so that he can do the dirty jobs.
But I'm not relinquishing my power! You'll never get me to do that!"
"We'll talk to you, Mrak Luton, tomorrow. But today, just think it all
over carefully in your office."
"But I didn't get all my dinner. Let them bring the other courses
here."
"We'll postpone your dinner until tomorrow. Thinking works better on an
empty stomach. We may also cut down on the oxygen supply to your office. But
not immediately, because FOR THE TIME BEING your brain cells must work
normally so that you can become reconciled."
"You're not a Faetess, Ala Veg, you're a monster."
"My husband, whom you murdered, wouldn't agree with you, Mrak Luton."
"I have never committed murder. I served the Dictator faithfully and
honestly, and I carried out his instructions. I had a secret order from him
in the event of a disintegration war. I am in no way to blame. I can show
you the inscribed tablet."
"You can do that when we put you on trial. Meanwhile, you are simply
relieved of your post."
Ala Veg opened the chief's office and let out the bewildered Brat Lua.
With a businesslike air, as if nothing had happened, Mrak Luton went inside
and sat down at his desk with dignity, pretending that he had urgent matters
to deal with.
Ala Veg locked the door from outside and invited Brat Lua into the
common cabin.
"We have to elect a new station chief," she announced.
"Why?" protested Nega Luton. "I've helped you to release Brat Lua. I
hope he will support me. I have risked losing my family happiness. You
Faetesses ought to appreciate this."
"Your husband is the criminal who murdered my husband to violate the
Agreement on Peace in Outer Space and unleash a disintegration war between
the space stations of Mar."
"They sent torpedoes against us from Phobo too," said Mrak Luton's
wife, in self-justification on her husband's behalf.
"We could have defended ourselves without attacking. And then Tycho Veg
would still have been alive."
"You have been blinded by your grief. Ala Veg. I understand you with
the heart of a Faetess. But can we talk about one death, when thousands of
millions of Faetians have perished? Remember, we need Mrak Luton as chief of
the station. We've got to survive. Smel Ven, as commander of the ship, will
obey only his orders to fly to us."
"Have you forgotten Ton! Fae's message that Smel Ven had been killed?
Besides, Um Sat was in charge of the expedition, not Smel Ven."
"The destruction of Faena has deprived me of memory and reason. What
are you counting on, Ala Veg?"
"On Terr's Faetians. They won't abandon us. But first, Mrak Luton must
be removed."
Brat Lua was listening to the women in dismay.
"Then let the gentle Ala Veg be chief of the station," proposed Lada
Lua.
"On no account!" screamed Nega Luton.
"Calm yourself, once distinguished lady. I am not making any such
claim. The chief of the station must be the one who shows the Faetians the
way to a future existence."
"Who can do that except my husband?"
"The insignificant Mrak Luton is only capable of threats. He can't even
bring himself to shoot anyone now because he's afraid for his fat belly.
He's just a stinker, and certainly not the leader of the future Marians."
"Marians?"
"Yes, Marians, that is, the Faetians who will live on Mar in the
underground cities planned by Brat Lua."
"Aren't you trying to say that the station chief should be a
roundhead?" said Nega Luton, outraged.
"What good fortune that the Lutons can't leave any descendants on Mar,"
said Ala Veg with unconcealed contempt.
"You aren't thinking of leaving any descendants, are you, Ala Veg? And
with whose help?"
"Shut up, you viper! I've lost three children and a husband; all you've
lost is your conscience."
"I refuse to agree that Mrak Luton should have his post taken over by
someone else."
"Then off you go, join your husband and think the matter over with
him."
"I haven't finished my dinner."
"You can finish dining at table with him ... tomorrow. If you have both
changed your minds."
"That is force!.."
"Brat Lua," said Ala Veg, turning to the released Faetian. "We elect
you chief of the station. We will now get in touch with the people on Phobo
and find out how they have been faring. We shall all beseech Quest to come
and fetch us."
"Quest can only set us down on the surface of Mar," said Brat Lua. "I
will shoulder all the worry and responsibility. The Faetian race and its
civilisation must be preserved. I've long had projects for installations
that, given the efforts of all surviving Faetians, can be brought to
fulfilment."
The little Faetian stood solemnly before the Faetesses as he undertook
this new mission.
After a moment's thought, he added:
"However, everything will depend on whether the Faetians of Quest agree
to abandon the bountiful and flourishing Terr and undergo fresh hardships
and perils to rescue us."
"I shall implore them!" cried Ala Veg.
"No one will risk losing happiness," said Nega Luton. "There's no sense
in Brat Lua being chief. No one will fly to the station, no one will ferry
us to the surface of Mar."
"Not everybody there is as soft-hearted as the gentle Sister of
Health," said Lada Lua.
Nega Luton bristled with indignation. How dare this insignificant
roundhead talk about her like that? But she pulled herself up at once. Lada
was now the wife of the new station chief, so Nega Luton controlled herself.
"It's just that I'm worried about us all," she muttered through her
teeth in self-justification.
"It's nearly time for the electromagnetic communications session,"
announced Ala Veg.
She left the common cabin and made for the observatory.
When she sat down at the control panel, she saw in front of her the
silvery bullet with the sharp brown prickles. She picked it up gingerly by
the blunt end and threw it into the rubbish chute through which it would end
up in space.
The signal lamp lit up, indicating a call.
"Poor Toni Fae! He thinks he's called Deimo for the last time," said
Ala Veg aloud, although there was no one near her.
Brat Lua walked into the observatory and announced:
"Mrak Luton has just informed us over the intercom that he has agreed
to relinquish his post as station chief in return for the dinner he didn't
have time to finish."
"Even his own greedy stomach's against him," replied Ala Veg.
"As the new chief, I shall have to take part in the session with the
Faetians of Quest on Terr."
"Allow me to open the session, Brat Lua. I'll try to put it as
convincingly as possible."
"The first word is yours," agreed the new chief.
The signal lamp began winking on the control panel.
Ala Veg switched the apparatus on.
Chapter Three
Stooping and breathing heavily. Dm Sat lowered himself into the
armchair before the control panel. His wrinkled face with its bushy white
beard had sagged noticeably, his eyes were deeply sunken, but watched with
their former close and sad attention. He asked Toni Fae, for the benefit of
those who had come back from the forest, to re-run the recording of the last
communications session. Ala Veg's chesty voice was heard in the cabin once
again.
"Quest! Quest! Quest! Faetians of Terr! Your brothers and sisters,
abandoned on an artificial speck of dust amid the stars, are crying out to
you for help. Around us is the cold and infinite emptiness of space. We have
no solid ground under our feet, we are feeding on the produce of the
greenhouse, which is being destroyed by endless showers of particles
discharged by the explosion of Faena. We shall not survive here unless you
come to our rescue. Quest! Quest! Quest! Faetians of Quest! Remember that
you are of the same flesh and blood as those who gave life to you and to us!
Fly to us in your ship, which we consider ours also. Fly to us in the name
of the love which shall forever be the beginning of the future and
everlasting life. The Faetians must not perish! Help us in the name of
Reason, whose heritage we must preserve. Quest! Quest! Quest!"
Ala Veg's voice fell silent.
The Faetians exchanged glances. Um Sat glanced inquiringly at Ave Mar
and Gor Terr.
Gor Terr went up to Toni Fae and rested his enormous hand on the other
man's shoulder.
"My friend Toni Fae," he said, as if his decision was the only one that
mattered. "The appeal by our brothers and sisters from Deimo will r-remain
bitter and unanswered, and it will break our hearts. I think we ought not to
maintain electromagnetic communications with space any more."
"What?" cried Mada, outraged. "Turn our backs on our own people when
they're in trouble?"
"We can't help them," Gor Terr tried to say as gently as possible. "If
we flew to the station, we would just be parasites, using up all their food
and oxygen."
"But they're hoping Quest will put them down on the surface of Mar,"
protested Toni Fae.
"Alas!" continued Gor Terr gloomily. "That's as impossible as our
r-resettlement on Deimo. We could fly as far as the space station, but the
ship hasn't got enough fuel for a braked landing on Mar."
With a column of figures written on a plastic tablet, Gor Terr
convincingly demonstrated the impossibility of flying to the Faetians on
Station Dei mo.
Ave Mar, Toni Fae and Mada understood everything perfectly. Only Um
Sat, apparently, could not wait until the engineer had finished. He took a
turn for the worse and had to be put to bed in the control cabin this time.
Mada fussed about him, trying to bring him round.
Water was needed. There wasn't any, since the reserve supply had been
used up. More would have to be fetched up from below.
When he had brought some water, Gor Terr began insisting that they
should all move into the house, which was now ready.
"The forest air is more likely to cure the Elder," he affirmed.
It was decided that Toni should stay behind at the communications
apparatus. At the next session, he could inform the Faetians on Deimo that
they could not possibly be reached on Quest.
Toni Fae was brooding silently. Mada feared for him. She carefully
locked up the dispensary so that he wouldn't be able to get his hands on an
ampoule of stupefying gas and she made Ave Mar collect up all the poisoned
bullets.
Sadly, as if saying goodbye to their ship forever, the astronauts
climbed down the vertical ladder leading out of the lower airlock.
Um Sat, whom they wanted to carry refused to be helped and actually
went down the ladder himself with Mada supporting him.
The path that the Faetians took as they carried the various gear from
the ship turned slippery. Gor Terr nearly fell down.
"Don't stray off the tr-rack," he warned anxiously.
The building with its sloping roof appeared among the trees.
In his time, Ave Mar, accustomed to the round buildings of Danjab,
would have thought the house ugly, but the change from a round rocket to a
rectangular structure now seemed right. He even sighed with relief; they had
a refuge for long cycles of their forthcoming life.
Suddenly, a tawny shadow darted across the window.
Ave Mar gripped Gor Terr by the arm. He too had noticed something
suspicious and he headed determinedly for the house. The door had not yet
been made.
On the threshold, Gor Terr collided with an enormous Faetoid with bared
fangs. He charged at it, unaware that this was Dzin showing her teeth in the
semblance of a smile. He grabbed the uninvited guest by the paw and nimbly
threw her over his shoulder so that she landed on some tree-stumps nearby.
She jumped up and fled howling into the forest.
In this way, an "attack" by Faetoids on the house was beaten off.
The Faetians went through the doorway.
Gor Terr screwed up his nose in distaste. There was an animal stench
inside.
Mada opened the windows to air the place.
"Home at last," she said with relief.
'Tarn afraid," said Um Sat, "that for a long time the Faetians will
have to prove that this is their home."
"Just let those filthy beasts try to barge in again!" roared Gor Terr.
"I was afraid you were going to kill our uninvited guest," confessed
Ave Mar.
"I would have done so, if I hadn't thought it was Dzin. We owe her so
much."
"Dzin?" asked Mada, on the alert "Really?"
"Settle yourselves in," suggested Gor Terr. "I'll go to meet Ton! Fae,
otherwise he might be met by someone else."
Mada smiled as he left. Such friendship between Faetians was a joy to
her.
Ave began fashioning a door, skilfully wielding a home-made axe. The
Faetoids might attack the sleeping Faetians in the night As he barred the
windows and the door, he wondered what the future held in store for them
all: it would be bleak enough if they had to live in a permanent state of
siege.
When the windows had been barred with stakes, the atmosphere in the
house had a depressing effect on Mada. As she watched the imperturbable Ave,
however, she too was filled with confidence.
Twilight was deepening. Mada felt uneasy as she thought about Toni Fae
and Gor Terr. The fate of the faraway Faetians on Deimo also gave her no
peace of mind. How she wished that all the survivors could be together!
Mada peered out of the window through the stakes. It was totally dark
in the forest. Tired after his walk, Um Sat was sound asleep. Mada had given
him a whiff of stupefying gas from an ampoule.
Ave was admiring his newly-made door, rough-hewn, but solid. He locked
it for the first time.
Mada looked at it regretfully.
"Ave, wasn't it you who said that the Faetians must preserve the
civilisation of their ancestors?"
"Of course, and I shall go on saying it."
"Then how is it that we, as carriers of civilisation, could abandon in
space the Faetians who are so close to us? Is there no way of bringing them
to join us? If we could only find fuel here!.."
Ave Mar heaved a sad sigh.
"Even the fuel we found here wouldn't help. We wouldn't be able to
process it the way they used to in Faena's fuel workshops. Where are we to
get all the pipes and distil ling spheres?"
"Surely Engineer Gor Terr will think of something?"
"Hardly..."
"Couldn't we fly to Deimo and all work together to extend the
greenhouse, improve the machinery and still live together? I'm afraid of
staying here on a hostile planet. It's not at all what it seemed on that
first day. D'you remember the watering place, with the baby reindeer and the
beast of prey drinking together in peace? But now?"
The door opened with a creak. Mada jumped up and seized Ave by the arm.
Gor Terr was standing in the doorway. He moved aside to admit a distraught
and dejected Toni Fae.
Mada rushed over to him, clasped him to her breast and began sobbing.
"Was there a session?" asked Ave Mar.
Trying to control himself, Toni Fae replied:
"It would have been better to die than hear the answer that Ala Veg
came out with when she heard our refusal."
"R-refusal? It's an impossibility!" interrupted Gor Terr.
"She was sobbing. Sobs have never been broadcast over the air before.
It was too much. Only why did Mada take the yellow ampoule from me?.."
"Calm yourself, my dear Toni Fae. I'll give you a whiff from that
ampoule in a moment. Look how well Dm Sat is sleeping."
"But how can I sleep in peace if out there, on Deimo, Ala Veg has given
up all hope and has lost faith in the power of love? I would fly to her
without a second thought."
Ave and Mada exchanged glances.
Mada gently calmed Toni Fae down. Sitting by the window stakes, Gor
Terr was plunged in gloom. The damp came wafting in from the forest. It had
started raining again. The Faetians couldn't possibly have imagined so much
water coming down from the sky. There had never been anything like it on
Faena.
Toni dozed off, but tossed and turned, moaning in his sleep.
Ave Mar squatted down at the rough-hewn table, took a split branch and
began making marks on it.
Gor Terr, his shoulders hunched, was still sitting by the window. He
looked like a huge boulder. He was asleep.
Exhausted by all she' had been through during the day, Mada settled
down on some bedding not far from Dm Sat and Toni Fae, who were sleeping
side by side.
Ave Mar was doing his best to save the batteries for the portable lamp.
He switched it off and lit a taper which he had improvised out of a resinous
splinter similar to the one he had split to make a tablet.
The rain finally stopped in the morning, the wind dispersed the clouds
and Sol peeped into the Faetians' new house. A mother-of-pearl footpath
showed through the trees, the water on it shimmering.
Mada, barely awake and already busy with the household chores,
instantly noticed a change in Ave.
Gor Terr was in a bad mood.
Mada offered everyone some plain food, economising in the stores
brought from the ship.
"If only you'd heard her voice," said Toni Fae to no one in particular.
Gor Terr exploded.
"They're selfish! All they think about is themselves. Who gave them the
r-right to demand such a sacrifice of us as the r-re-fusal to live on a
bountiful planet? And they're the ones who tried to blow up a space station
like their own! If I was deciding whether we should fly to them or not, I
wouldn't allow it!"
Mada was frightened to detect a familiar ring in his booming bass
voice.
Toni Fae looked dismally at his friend.
'They're not all in the wrong. We've got to distinguish between the
station chief, the Supreme Officer of the Blood Guard, and Ala Veg and the
roundhead Luas, neither of whom is in the least to blame."
"And there are some Faetians on Phobo who aren't in the least to blame
either," interposed Mada.
"No matter how many of them there may be, how can we possibly help
them?" snapped Gor Terr.
"It's not quite like that," intervened Ave suddenly.
All turned to look at him. Even Dm Sat, lying on a bench near the
table, tried to raise himself on one elbow.
"I did some calculations during the night Gor Terr, as an engineer,
could verify them."
"A specialist on elementary particles has been checking the engineer
who designed the spaceship Quest?" inquired Gor Terr darkly.
"Excuse me, Gor Terr, but I've been going through your calculations and
I found them correct"
"Well, well!.. I'm so glad," said Gor Terr, heaving a sigh of relief.
"What a pity!" responded Toni Fae.
"Even so, Gor Terr's calculations can be taken further."
"R-really?" Gor Terr looked sharply round at Ave Mar.
"His calculations were based on the assumption that all the Faetians of
Quest must fly to Deimo."
"But of course! How can we possibly split up?" exclaimed Mada.
"Only by doing that could we save the civilisation of Faena."
"Let Ave clarify his idea," requested Dm Sat.
"To economise in fuel for Quest, only two of us must go up in her, not
five. Then the remainder of the fuel plus the reserves of fuel on Deimo and
Phobo will enable us to deliver the Faetians on the space stations to Mar.
Quest, of course, will not be able to return to Terr."
"Which means," shouted Toni Fae, "that only one Faetian can go with the
pilot Gor Terr!"
"Ave Mar can also fly the ship," commented Gor Terr. "After all, he's
been fighting so hard for the preservation of Faena's culture."
Mada looked at her husband in alarm.
"I haven't had the time to discuss it with Mada, but she can express
her opinion now.
In the name of Reason, I am prepared to stay on Terr if Mada stays with
me. True, after Quest has gone, we'll be living like savages who will from
then on have to make axes and arrowheads out of stone."
"I am prepared to stay with my Ave," said Mada, "as I would be prepared
to fly with him to Deimo."
"Then I can fly with Gor Terr!" whispered Toni Fae with unconcealed
joy.
"No," objected Ave firmly. "If a great sacrifice has to be made in the
name of Reason, then the continued Faetian civilisation on Mar can only be
headed by Faena's Great Elder, Urn Sat, its first man of learning."
Toni Fae buried his head in his hands.
Dm Sat looked at him with compassion and said:
"I am old and ill. Is it worth counting on me when you speak of a new
civilisation on Mar?"
"Surely it is not for a Great Elder to live like a savage in the
primeval forest?" objected Ave. "That is the lot of the younger ones."
"I agree to anything," said Toni Fae in a dead voice.
"I swear it's not going to be like that!" Gor Terr suddenly banged his
fist on the table. "Urn Sat will, of course, fly on Quest to head the
civilisation of the Marians. They'll have to apply the technology of the
space stations. Without technology, the Marians won't survive. However, it
is not Engineer Gor Terr who will fly to Mar with the great scientist, but
his fr-riend Toni Fae."
"But I can't fly spaceships!" exclaimed the agitated Toni Fae.
Mada looked admiringly at Gor Terr.
"I'm r-right, am I not?" continued Gor Terr. "Those who stay behind on
Terr won't have it any easier than the ones flying to Mar. They'll have to
fight for every step they take in this confounded forest. Toni Fae would
find it hard protecting the family of Ave and Mada here."
"But I can't fly spaceships," repeated Toni Fae sadly.
"You'll learn. Let the first university also start work in this first
house, knocked together on Terr. It will have only one student, but three
professors: the gr-reat scientist Um Sat, his celebrated pupil Ave Mar and
the modest engineer, Gor Terr."
"Two professors will eventually become savages," said Ave Mar with a
smile. "Gor Terr has just shown us what true friendship is. I will undertake
to help Toni Fae in every way so that he can fly to Deimo with Um Sat"
The Elder rose from his bench.
"However hard the history of future generations of Terrans and Marians
may be, it is a good thing that it begins with such noble sentiments!"
Tears were trickling down the old man's wrinkled face.
There was never a more terrible day than the one when Quest had to lift
off from Terr for space.
Left behind on Terr, Ave Mar, Mada and Gor Terr tried not to show what
it cost them to see the others off.
The giant rocket loomed above the forest like a pointed tower. The last
farewells were imminent.
The Elder embraced in turn each of the two sturdy, strong Faetians who
were staying behind on the alien planet. Would they be able to survive?
Then Mada came up to him. Resting her head on his white beard, she
raised her head and said something. The Elder drew her close to him and
kissed her hair.
"Does Ave Mar know about it yet?"
"No, not yet," replied Mada.
"May Reason remain to live on in your descendants!"
Ave Mar, who had just come up, understood everything without having to
be told. He hugged his wife in gratitude.
When Um Sat followed by Toni Fae, climbed with difficulty up the
vertical ladder, he looked round and called:
"At least teach them how to write!"
Gor Terr understood and smiled bitterly.
"They'll have to learn hunting, not writing. And how to make stone
axes!"
The Elder disappeared through the hatch.
As the engines fired, the three Faetians moved away from the rocket and
raised their hands in a last farewell. They were seeing off forever those
who, in the name of Reason, were taking away with them the heritage of
Faetian civilisation.
Clouds of black smoke burst out from under the rocket.
In the dense forest, the trees were dotted with shaggy Faetoids. With
malignant curiosity, they watched their two-legged victims, who were to be
eaten in the gully.
The strongest of the Faetoids would seize the hairless ones and not let
them return to their "cave without rocks".
Suddenly, under the smooth stone tree into which two of the hairless
ones had disappeared, such a terrible thunder roared that even the fiercest
of the Faetoids fell from their branches. Then, from under the smooth stone
tree, black clouds billowed forth, as before the water falling from above,
and flames gushed forth.
The beasts fled helter-skelter in all directions.
The path to the house of the depleted Faetians on Terr had been
cleared.
This time they were able to return to their refuge, not suspecting
that, in dispersing their enemies, their departed friends had rendered them
their last service.
Chapter Four
After picking up all the Faetians from Station Deimo, Quest was
approaching Phobo. An increasingly brilliant star was already conspicuous in
the porthole.
Vydum Polar, Phobo's engineer, had become the new station chief.
When the disintegration war began on Faena and when Phobo and Deimo
each sent out two torpedoes, the young Faetians on Phobo, insisting on a
peaceful visit by spaceship to Deimo and outraged by the station chief's
conduct, had replaced Dovol Sirus even before the destruction of Faena and
before communicating with Deimo about the changes on Phobo.
Dovol Sirus had not resisted. He had even willingly surrendered his
powers to Vydum Polar, believing that at last he was going to get some peace
of mind and all his worries would be shouldered by the inventor. He was,
however, cruelly mistaken.
Quest flew to Phobo with all Deimo's Faetians and with Dm Sat and Toni
Fae from Terr.
Vydum Polar and Ala Veg had to sit with Dm Sat in order to pass
judgement on the war criminals. Um Sat named them as the Lutons and Dovol
Sirus.
The concave cabin walls were hung with landscapes of Faena-forests,
meadows, rivers, towns and seas that did not exist any more.
Terrified and outraged, totally unprepared for such a state of affairs,
the accused sat before the judges on a black bench and behind, against the
silvery walls, stood all the Faetians left in space.
The space station always turned on its axis. The gigantic sphere of Mar
kept appearing in the portholes and floating away again with inexorable
regularity. The baleful, reddish-brown colours of the planet during the
strange, swift-passing night alternated in the cabin with the daytime glow
of Sol.
Um Sat proved to be a Faetian with a will of iron. He had been
seriously ill on Terr and had only fully recovered on the journey. Now,
enormously tall, white-haired and white-bearded, he had vigorously taken
charge of the Faetian colony. The first thing he had done was to put the war
criminals of space on trial. He now sat calmly at the table, rhythmically
tapping it with his finger.
The interrogation began. Vlasta Sirus, smirking nastily, put up an
evasive and spirited resistance.
"The self-appointed court has no right to try us. There are no laws in
space and you cannot pass sentence."
"The law is the will of the Faetians here," replied Um Sat firmly. His
knitted brows boded ill for the accused. He glanced significantly at the
landscapes in their frames, which were now black in token of mourning.
The old scientist inspired Vydum Polar with great respect. He did not
look like the other men of learning who had refused to recognise him. On the
contrary, Um Sat was interested in Vydum's inventions and immediately
invited him to implement Brat Lua's project.
In spite of her assumed arrogance, Vlasta Sirus had the shivers. She
looked pathetic, although her tone of voice was defiant.
"Then look for war criminals among the chiefs of the space stations,
not among the serving girls."
These words aroused general laughter among the Faetians, who knew the
real part played by Phobo's greenhouse nursery-woman.
General Dovol Sirus, gasping at the insult to his wife, was forced to
confirm that the decision to send torpedoes to Deimo had been suggested by
Vlasta. When he was being questioned, he would hastily jump to his feet,
though with an effort. He was now very annoyed, emphasising this in every
possible way.
"I can only be condemned for weakness of character in my family life
and not for my military actions. I am only a Faetian businessman. My
general's rank was conferred on me for the trade-mark of the munitions
workshops. As a Faetian businessman, I was intending to acquire territory on
Mar so as to sell plots of land at a profit to the Faetian settlers." And he
smiled trustingly.
"Whom did you force to prime the disintegration torpedoes?" asked Ala
Veg bluntly.
"I primed them myself."
"Was it safe?" asked Ala Veg, pursuing her inquiry further.
"Absolutely. The warheads were well screened to prevent radiation."
"So at no risk to yourself, you took measures to destroy Deimo?" Ala
Veg was remorselessly driving the accused into a corner.
"I had to come to terms with fear. I mean above all my fear of my wife,
Vlasta Sirus," replied Dovol Sirus, wiping the perspiration from his bald
patch.
"I was right not to trust the Faetians on Deimo," interposed Vlasta
Sirus. "They were the first to try and destroy our Phobo."
"But wasn't Vlasta Sirus plotting the same move against Deimo?" asked
Vydum Polar, coming forward.
Vlasta Sirus glared from under close-knit black eyebrows with contempt
at her failure of a son-in-law who had dared to condemn her.
"War isn't a picnic," she said defiantly.
"Did the accused really not know of the Agreement on Peace in Outer
Space?" Um Sat reminded her, calmly pouring himself some water and motioning
to Dovol Sirus that he could sit down.
"How could that be known to a simple nurserywoman who was serving in
space for the benefit of the Faetians?" said Vlasta, lowering her eyes.
At this point, even her meek spouse jumped up again and shouted:
"All of us here knew about it!"
"Then why did you lay in torpedoes for the station?" inquired Ala Veg
nastily, looking the former chief of Phobo straight in the eye.
"The Faetians on Deimo couldn't be trusted." And Dovol Sirus smiled
disarmingly at her again.
"And what has the former chief of Deimo, Supreme Officer of the Blood
Guard Mrak Luton, to say about his misbehaviour?" asked Um Sat.
Mrak Luton rose heavily to his feet.
"I, at least, don't vegetate under someone's heel. I am a soldier. I
was carrying out the orders given to me. Here is an order from Dictator Yar
Jupi. I was under obligation to carry it out in the event of a
disintegration war. I cannot be condemned for my integrity as a soldier. The
one to blame is certainly not me, his officer, but Yar Jupi himself, who
violated an order he had signed in person." Mrak Luton laid the written
tablets down on the table.
"Mrak Luton, did you know that the warhead was not screened and that it
was lethally dangerous to be anywhere near it; yet you still drove my
husband Tycho Veg to certain death?"
Mrak Luton grinned and shrugged his fat shoulders.
"An officer sent his soldier ahead in battle. There was a war on."
"The reference to war is irrelevant," observed Um Sat. "It shouldn't
happen on a planet, much less in space, for war is an unjustifiable crime."
"Even if it is defensive?" asked Mrak Luton challengingly.
"A disintegration weapon is an attack weapon. It can never be
defensive."
"The inventor of the disintegration weapon, of course, has a clearer
idea of what to call it," commented Vlasta Sirus maliciously. "Perhaps it
would be more correct to condemn the one who created this weapon, not the
ones who were forced to use it! But he is passing judgement!" And she sighed
heavily with affected bitterness.
"Very well, then! Condemn me, Um Sat, scientist of matter, because I
made my discovery public on two continents simultaneously, hoping that the
fear of exterminating all living things would prevent the insanity of wars;
condemn me because I did not ban dangerous knowledge as I would do now. But
those who, after surviving in space, used that knowledge to harm others-they
should answer for their crimes."
The Elder had remained true to himself. As before, he had not been
learned in the profundities of the soul; he still thought that it was enough
to punish the guilty and ban dangerous knowledge for all time so that evil
would be averted. But he was the oldest of the survivors, no one could doubt
his integrity, and so he was putting on trial those guilty of a
disintegration war in space. An unfamiliar harshness rang in his voice and
his eyes burned darkly.
Vlasta Sirus cringed at his words as if she were being whipped.
It was hard to tell from the faces of the judges what was in store for
the accused.
Unlike Vlasta Sirus, Nega Luton was completely crushed at being judged
by Ala Veg, of all people!..
Lada Lua came up to the judges' table. She was embarrassed and didn't
know what to do with her red hands.
"The gentle lady Nega Luton is in no way to blame. When the station
chief had to be removed, she sided with us Faetesses on Deimo."
"Will Ala Veg confirm that?" asked Vydum Polar.
"I confirm it," said Ala Veg to her rival's great astonishment. "Mrak
Luton went mad with fury when his wife refused to obey him. She is only to
blame for wanting to become first lady of the station."
Nega Luton flushed. Better she had been condemned than made to hear
such words. She could have incinerated her judges with a single glance.
Ala Veg sat with lowered eyes, and Ton! Fae, standing behind all the
Faetians, watched her admiringly. How beautiful she was, and how
fair-minded!
The great Elder read out the court's sentence.
Dovol Sirus, Vlasta Sirus and Mrak Luton were guilty of launching
disintegration torpedoes with the intention of destroying space stations and
were sentenced to imprisonment on Station Phobo. They would not be taken to
Mar. They would provide their own services for the rest of their days: they
would be left the necessary machinery and the greenhouse.
Nega Luton was acquitted and would be taken to Mar.
Mrak Luton stamped his foot when he heard the sentence.
"This is violence! This is lawlessness! This is a crime!" He began
foaming at the mouth. He clutched at his heart and collapsed into his chair.
Dovol Sirus watched him in fright. "I implore you," he whined, "don't
leave a maniac with us. Send him back to Deimo... He is a Supreme Officer of
the Blood Guard, after all. His hands are steeped in blood."
"Certain Faetians claim to be fair-minded, but they want to destroy us
without mercy!" shrieked Vlasta Sirus. "So let them fly away! We're
banishing them from our station! We're sending them into exile on barren
deserts! Exile! Exile! Exile!"
The Faetians gradually dispersed, trying not to look at the condemned.
Nega Luton went up to the judges.
"Thank you for acquitting me. But please leave me with the condemned."
Vydum Polar eyed Nega Luton closely and with distaste. He didn't
believe that she wanted to stay behind with that flabby, corpulent Faetian
who was choking with rage. This was more likely a matter of calculated
self-interest: there would be less work to do on the station than on
inhospitable Mar, where they would be compelled to build underground refuges
for the Faetians and their descendants.
Vydum Polar was right, but he still hadn't reckoned with Nega Luton's
obsessive hatred for Ala Veg at the time.
It took a considerable time to complete Brat Lua's project, augmented,
as it was, with many of Vydum Polar's own technical ideas.
It was possible to build an underground settlement with an artificial
atmosphere, constantly purified and enriched with oxygen.
Quest was preparing for its last trip.
Station Phobo would forever be an artificial satellite of the planet
Mar.
Since only nine instead of thirteen Faetians were landing on the
planet, this meant that they could take with them considerably more cargo,
technical appliances, instruments and inscribed tablets for study by future
Marians.
Vydum Polar envisaged an acute shortage of the metal necessary to build
underground shelters with an artificial air supply, and so he suggested
dropping part of Station Phobo onto the planet's surface. This would entail
dismantling a third of the station's structure and fitting it with one of
the remaining defence rockets.
Station Phobo was much bigger than Station Deimo. A reduction in its
accommodation space would not affect the future life of the condemned.
Needless to say, they themselves refused point-blank to take part in