"No. He didn't make it. Tomorrow morning you will be given a
preconditioning which will set up the basic situation that you have
traveled to Serrengia and are now established there in the colony. We
will begin the test at a period of some length after establishment
there, when difficulties begin to pile up. Other members of the party
will be laboratory staff people who will provide specific, guiding
stimuli to determine your reaction to them."
"Are they there constantly, night and day?"
"No. When you are asleep their day's work is over and they go home."
"What if I wake up and find the whole setup is a phony?"
"You won't. We have control beams constantly focussed upon the persons
being tested. These are used to keep him asleep when desirable, and to
control him to the extent of preventing him doing physical harm to
himself or others."
"Is that necessary?" said Jorden dubiously. "Why should anyone wish to
do harm?"
"The Captain, whom we released today, was pushed to the point of
suicide," said Ashby. "We find it _quite_ necessary to assure ourselves
of adequate control at all times."
"How can you set up the illusion of distance and a whole new world in
such a comparatively small area?"
"It _is_ illusion, a great deal of it. Some is induced along with the
initial preconditioning, other features are done mechanically, but when
you are there you will have no doubt whatever that you are a colonist on
the planet Serrengia. You will act accordingly, and respond to the
stimuli exactly as if you had been transported to the actual planet. In
this way, we are sure of finding colonists who will not blow up when
they face the real situation."
"How many have you found so far?"
"None."
Jorden was shaken for a moment, but he smiled then and said, "You have
found one. Put my name down on the books."
"We'll see," said Ashby grimly. "Your colony will be in the limited belt
of the planet's northern hemisphere where considerable agriculture is
possible. You'll be in the midst of a group trying to beat a living from
a world which is neither excessively hostile nor conducive to indolence.
Some of the people will be bitter and wish they had never come. They
will break up in groups and fight each other. They will challenge every
reason you have for your own coming. You will face your own personal
impoverishment, the death of your child--"
"Child?" said Jorden.
"Yes. You will be provided with a wife and three children. One of these
will die, and you will react as if it were your own flesh. Your wife
will oppose your staying, and demand a return to Earth. We will throw at
you every force available to tear down your determination to build a
colony. We shall test in every possible way the validity of your
decision to go. Do you still wish to go through with it?"
Jorden's grin was somewhat fainter. He took a deep breath as he nodded
slowly. "Yes, I'll go through with it. I think it's what I want."
* * * * *
When Ashby finally returned alone to the office, Miss Haslam had gone
home. He put in a call anyway for Dr. Bonnie Nathan. She usually
remained somewhere in the laboratory until quite late, even when not
assigned to a test.
In a few minutes her voice came over the phone. "John? What can I do for
you?"
"I thought I could let you off for a few days," said Ashby, "but we've
got another one that's come up rather suddenly." He told her briefly
about Mark Jorden. "It's useless, but I don't want him running to the
Commission right now, so we'll put him through. You'll be the wife.
We'll use Program Sixty Eight, except that we'll accelerate it."
"Accelerate--!"
"Yes. It won't hurt him any. Whatever happens we can wipe up afterwards.
This is simply a nuisance and I want it out of the way as quickly as
possible. After that--perhaps I can give you those few days I promised
you. O.K.?"
"It's all right with me," said Bonnie. "But an accelerated Sixty
Eight--"
* * * * *
They stood on a low hillock overlooking the ninety acres of bottom land
salvaged from the creek grass. Mark Jorden shaded his eyes and squinted
critically over the even stand of green shoots emerging from the bronzed
soil. Germination had been good in spite of the poor planting time. The
chance of getting a crop out was fair. If they didn't they'd be eating
shoe plastic in another few months.
The ten year old boy beside him clutched his hand and edged closer as if
there were something threatening him from the broad fields. "Isn't there
any way at all for Earth to send us food," he said, "if we don't get a
crop?"
"We have to make believe Earth doesn't exist, Roddy," said Jorden. "We
couldn't even let them know we need help, we're so far away." He gripped
the boy's shoulders solidly in his big hands and drew him close. "We
aren't going to need any help from Earth. We're going to make it on our
own. After all, what would they do on Earth if they couldn't make it?
Where would they go for outside help?"
"I know," said the boy, "but there are so many of them they can't fail.
Here, there's only the few of us."
Jorden patted his shoulder gently again as they started moving toward
the rough houses a half mile away. "That makes it all the easier for
us," he said. "We don't have to worry about the ones who won't
cooperate. We can't lose with the setup we've got."
It was harder for Roddy. He remembered Earth, although he had been only
four when they left. He still remembered the cities and the oceans and
the forests he had known so briefly, and was cursed with the human
nostalgia for a past that seemed more desirable than an unknown, fearful
future.
Of the other children, Alice had been a baby when they left, and Jerry
had been born during the trip. They knew only Serrengia and loved its
wild, uncompromising rigor. They spent their abandoned wildness of
childhood in the nearby hills and forests. But with Roddy it was
different. Childhood seemed to have slipped by him. He was moody, and
moved carefully in constant fear of this world he would never willingly
call home. Jorden's heart ached with longing to instill some kind of joy
into him.
"That looks like Mr. Tibbets," said Roddy suddenly, his eyes on the new
log house.
"I believe you're right," said Jorden. "It looks like Roberts and
Adamson with him. Quite a delegation. I wonder what they want."
The colony consisted of about a hundred families, each averaging five
members. Originally they had settled on a broad plateau at some distance
from the river. It was a good location overlooking hundreds of miles of
desert and forest land. Its soil was fertile and the river water was
lifted easily through the abundant power of the community atomic energy
plant which had been brought from Earth.
Three months ago, however, the power plant had been destroyed in a
disastrous explosion that killed almost a score of the colonists. Crops
for their next season's food supply were half matured and could not be
saved by any means available.
The community was broken into a number of smaller groups. Three of
these, composed of fifteen families each, moved to the low lands along
the river bank and cleared acreage for new crops in a desperate hope of
getting a harvest before the season ended. They had not yet learned
enough of the cycle of weather in this area to predict it with much
accuracy.
Mark Jorden was in charge of one of the farms and the elected leader of
the village in which he lived.
Tibbets was an elderly man from the same village. In his middle sixties,
he presented a puzzle to Jorden as to why he had been permitted to come.
Roberts and Adamson were from the settlements farther down the river.
Jorden felt certain of the reason for their visit. He didn't want to
hear what they had to say, but he knew he might as well get it over
with.
They hailed him from the narrow wooden porch. Jorden came up the steps
and shook hands with each. "Won't you come in? I'm sure Bonnie can find
something cool to drink."
Tibbets wiped his thin, wrinkled brow. "She already has. That girl of
yours doesn't waste any time being told what to do. It's too bad some of
the others can't pitch in the way Bonnie does."
Jorden accepted the praise without comment, wondering if no one else at
all were aware of the hot, violent protests she sometimes poured out
against him because of the colony.
"Come in anyway," Jorden said. "I have to go back to the watering in a
little while, but you can take it easy till then." He led the way into
the log house.
Their homes on the plateau had been decent ones. With adequate power
they had made lumber and cement, and within a year of their landing had
built a town of fine homes. Among those who had been forced to abandon
them, no one was more bitter than Bonnie. "You're no farmer," she said.
"Why can't those who are be the ones to move?"
Now, when he came into the kitchen, she was tired, but she tried to
smile as always at her pleasure in seeing him again. He couldn't imagine
what it would be like not having her to welcome him from the fields.
"I'll get something cool for you and Roddy," she said. "Would you
gentlemen like another drink?"
When they were settled in the front room Tibbets spoke. "You know why
we've come, Mark. The election is only a couple of months away. We can't
have Boggs in for another term of governor. You've got to say you'll run
against him."
"As I told you last time, Boggs may be a poor excuse for the job, but
I'd be worse. He's at least an administrator. I'm only an engineer--and
more recently a farmer."
"We've got something new, now," said Tibbets, his eyes suddenly cold and
meaningful.
"The talk about his deliberately blowing up the power plant? Talk of
that kind could blow up the whole colony as well. Boggs may have his
faults but he's not insane."
"We've got proof now," said Tibbets. "It's true. Adamson's got the
evidence. He got one of the engineers who escaped the blast to talk.
It's one of them who were supposed to have been killed. He's so scared
of Boggs he's still hiding out. But he's got the proof and those who are
helping him know it's true."
"Tibbets is right," said Adamson earnestly. "We know it's true. And
something like that can't stay hidden. It's got to be brought out if
we're going to make the colony survive. You can't just shut your eyes to
it and say, 'Good old Boggs would never do a thing like that.'"
Jorden's eyes were darker as he spoke in low tones now, hoping Roddy
would not be listening in the kitchen. "Suppose it is true. Why would
Boggs do such an insane thing?"
"Because he's an insane man," said Tibbets. "That's the obvious answer.
He wants to destroy the colony and limit its growth. He was satisfied to
come here and be elected governor and run the show. He saw it as means
of becoming a two-bit dictator over a group of subservient colonists. It
hasn't turned out that way. He found a large percentage of engineers and
scientists who would have none of his nonsense.
"He saw the group becoming something bigger than himself. He had to cut
it down to his own size. He's willing to destroy what he can't possess,
but he believes that by reducing us to primitive status he can keep us
in line. In either case the colony loses."
"If what you say is true--if it's actually true," Jorden said, his eyes
suddenly far away, "we've got to fight him--"
"Then we can count on you?"
"Yes--you can count on me."
* * * * *
He stood in the doorway watching the departure of the three men, but he
was aware of Bonnie behind him. She rushed to him as he turned, and put
her face against his chest.
"Mark--you can't do it! Boggs will kill you. This is no concern of ours.
We don't belong to Maintown any more. It's their business up there. I'd
go crazy if anything happened to you. You've got to think of the rest of
us!"
"I am thinking," said Mark. He raised her chin so he could look into her
eyes. "I'm thinking that we are going to live here the rest of our
lives, and so are the children. If the story about Boggs is true, we're
all concerned. We wouldn't be down here if the power plant hadn't been
destroyed. We'd be living in our good home in Maintown. Would you expect
me to let Boggs get away with this without raising a hand to stop him?"
"Yes--I would," said Bonnie, "because there is nothing anyone can do.
You know he has Maintown in the palm of his hand. He's screened out
every ruffian and soured colonist in the whole group and they'll do
anything he says. You can't fight them all, Mark. I won't let you."
"It won't be me alone," said Jorden. "If it develops into a fight the
majority of the colony will be with us. Earth will be with us. Boggs
will be facing the results of the whole two billion year struggle it
took to make man what he now is."
* * * * *
In the lounge off the lab cafeteria, Ashby indulged in a late coffee
knowing he wouldn't sleep anyway. Across the table Bonnie ate sparingly
of a belated supper.
"The threat of having to fight Boggs didn't give him much of a scare,"
said Ashby thoughtfully.
"It'll take a lot more than a bogey man like Boggs to scare Mark," said
Bonnie. "You've got yourself a bigger quantity of man than you bargained
for."
"This might turn out to be more interesting than we thought. I wish
there were more time to spend on him. But Merton called up again today
to verify the ultimatum I told you about. We produce colonists by the
time Hull Four is complete or they turn the personnel problem over to
Winthrop--even after they saw Carnahan go to pieces before their eyes."
"Has it ever occurred to you," said Bonnie slowly, "that we might just
possibly be off on the wrong foot? How do you know that any of the
colonists of Earth's history could have stood up to the demands of
Serrengia? I'm beginning to suspect that the Mayflower's passenger list
would have folded quite completely under these conditions. They had it
comparatively easy. So did most other successful colonists."
"Yes--?" said Ashby.
"Maybe they succeeded in _spite_ of being rebels. If they could have
come to the new lands without the pressure of flight, but in complete
freedom of action, they might have made an even greater success."
"But why would they have come at all, then?"
"I don't know. There must be another motive capable of impelling them.
In great feats of exploration, creation--other human actions similar to
colonization--"
"There are _no_ other human actions similar to colonization," said
Ashby. "Surely you realize we're dealing with something unique here,
Bonnie!"
"I know--all I'm trying to say is there could be another valid motive. I
think Mark Jorden's got it. There's something different about this test,
and I think you ought to look in on it yourself."
"What's so different about him?"
"He doesn't act like the rest. He hasn't any apparent reason for being
here."
Ashby looked at the girl closely. She was one of his top staff members
and had been with him from the beginning. The incredible strain of
working day after day in the test pits was showing its effects, he
thought.
"I shouldn't have let you get started on this one," he said. "You're
fagged out. Maybe it would be better to erase what we've done and start
over, so that you can drop out."
She shook her head with a quickness that surprised him. "I want to
finish it, and see how Mark turns out. I'm so used to working with the
bitter, anti-social ones that it's a relief to have someone who is
halfway normal and gregarious. I want to be around when we find out why
he's here."
"Especially if he should go all the way to the end. But he won't--"
* * * * *
Ashby was genuinely concerned about Bonnie's condition when he looked in
on her the next morning. The strain on her face was real beyond any
matter of make-up or acting. He wondered just why she should be giving
in to it now. Bonnie was well trained, as were all the staff members who
worked in the test pits. The emotional conflicts mocked up there were
not allowed to penetrate very deeply into their personal experience, yet
it looked now as if Bonnie had somehow lost control of the armor to
protect against such invasion. She seemed to be living the circumstances
of the test program almost as intensely as Mark Jorden was doing.
Such a condition couldn't be permitted to continue, but he was baffled
by it. Her physical and emotional check prior to the test had not shown
her threshold to be this low. Evidently there was emotional dynamite
buried somewhere in the situation they had manufactured.
Through the observation lens of the test pit Ashby watched Jorden begin
a tour of the villages, making a quiet investigation of the situation,
which he had all but ignored until it was forced to his attention.
Jorden spent an hour with Adamson, listening carefully to the atomic
engineer's story, and then was led to the hiding place of the engineer
who claimed direct evidence that Boggs had instigated the explosion at
the power plant.
As Adamson left them, Ashby signaled him through the tiny button buried
in the skin behind his right ear. "This is Ashby," he said. "How does it
look? Do you think he's going to tackle Boggs?"
"No question of that." Adamson's words came back, although he made no
movement of his mouth or throat. "Jorden is one of these people with a
lot of inertia. It takes a big push to get him moving, but when he
really gets rolling there isn't much that can stop him, either. You're
really going to have to put the pressure on to find his cracking point."
"I'm afraid we're likely to find Bonnie's first. There's something about
this that's hitting her too hard. Do you know what it is?"
"No," said Adamson. "I thought I noticed it a little yesterday, too.
Maybe we ought to check her out."
"She insists on completing the program. And I'd like to go all the way
with Jorden. I'm becoming rather curious about him. Keep an eye on
Bonnie and let me know what you think at the end of the shift."
"I'll do that," said Adamson.
* * * * *
Jorden followed his guide for more than a mile beyond the last village
on the bank of the river. There, in a willow hidden cave in the clay
bank, he found James, the atomic engineer who was reported to know of
Boggs' attack on the power plant.
"I told him you were coming," said Adamson, "but I'm going to leave. You
can make out better if you're alone with him. He's bitter, but he isn't
armed, and he'll go along with you if you don't push him too hard."
Jorden watched Adamson disappear along the bank in the direction from
which they had come. He had a feeling of utter ridiculousness. This
wasn't what they had come for! They had come to build an outpost of
human beings, to establish man's claim in this sector of the Universe.
And they were ending in a petty conflict worthy of the politics of
centuries before, back on Earth.
His face took on a harder set as he approached the mouth of the cave and
whistled the signal notes that Adamson had taught him. If the
establishment of the colony demanded this kind of fight then he was
willing to enter the battle. He had not dedicated the remainder of his
life to a goal only to abandon it to a petty tyrant like Boggs.
A bearded face peered cautiously through parted willows and James' voice
spoke. "You're Jorden? I suppose by now everybody in the villages knows
where I'm hiding out. I'm the world's prize fool for letting this parade
come past my place. Come in and I'll tell you what I know. If you help
get Boggs it will be worth anything it costs me."
Jorden followed the man through the screening willows to the mouth of
the cave. There the two of them squatted on rocks opposite each other.
"I remember you now," said James. "You set up the electric plant when we
were assembling the pile, didn't you? I thought we'd worked together."
Jorden nodded, hoping James would go on, remembering Adamson's caution
not to push him too hard, but the engineer seemed to have nothing more
to say. He rubbed a hand forcibly against his other arm and looked
beyond the mouth of the cave to the slow moving river.
"This business concerning Boggs' destruction of the plant--how did it
start?" said Jorden finally.
"How does anything of that kind start?" said James. "Boggs came to some
of us and remarked in casual conversation what a shame it would be if
the colony were to duplicate all over again the mistakes that Earth have
made during the past thousands of years. A few of us were sympathetic
with that thought--it would indeed be a shame. Some of the engineers
thought that this was the perfect chance to set up a truly scientific
society. They didn't agree that Boggs was the ideal leader, but he _was_
the leader and the obvious one to work through. They all became
convinced that a rapid industrialization and a highly technological
society built upon the old rusty foundations would be most difficult to
overcome in building a society on truly adequate sociological
principles. You can take it from there."
Yes, he could, Jorden thought. Anybody could take it from there. It was
the oldest lie that men of power and position had ever concocted. Why
had those particular colonists fallen for it?
"What about you?" he asked James. "Were you sucked in by Boggs'
arguments?"
The engineer nodded. "He took all of us. And all along he never intended
that more than a couple would get out alive--by double crossing the
others."
"Why?" said Jorden.
"Why? I've thought a lot about that, living here in this mudhole. You
get to thinking about things like that when you realize there's no going
back, that Boggs would kill me on sight for what I could tell--and that
the other colonists would also, because of what I've done. Adamson says
I can trust him. He says I can trust you. But I don't trust anybody. I
know that someday soon I'm going to get a bullet in the head from one of
you. All I'm hoping is that some of you hate Boggs enough to get him
first."
"Why did you come to Serrengia in the first place?"
"To get away. Why did anyone come? You don't give up everything you've
got in order to go to some strange world and spend the rest of your life
unless you've got a reason. Unless you hate what you've got so much
you're willing to try anything else. Unless you're so terribly afraid of
what could happen to you back there that you're willing to face any kind
of dangers out here. We all had our reasons. I'm not asking yours. It
makes no difference to you what mine were. But they're all alike. We
came because we were so afraid or full of hate we couldn't stay."
"How did you expect to build a new world out of hate and fear of the old
one?"
"Who worried about what we'd build here? All we wanted to do was get
away. You can't tell me _you_ came for any other reason!"
* * * * *
Jorden made no answer. He continued to stare in wonder at the atomic
engineer. To what extent were James' words actually true? How completely
was the colony riddled with unpredictable, purposeless characters like
him?
If they had fled Earth with a purpose to create something better than
they left, there was a chance. But if James was right that most of them
had come in blind flight with no goal at all then the Earth colony of
Serrengia would be dead long before the ships came again.
But Jorden did not believe this. He did not believe that any but a small
fraction of the colonists had any feeling toward Earth except that of
love. Most had come because they wanted to do this particular thing with
their lives. Nothing had driven or forced them to it.
"Tell me what Boggs did, and what he persuaded you to do," said Jorden.
In detail, James told him how Boggs had gained influence with the
technicians necessary to prepare the plant for destruction, how he had
persuaded them that a new, idealistic social order demanded their
obedience to this fantastic plan. Then, under the Governor's direction,
two of the men betrayed the rest. Only James, who was at a slight
distance from his normal operating post that night, had escaped with
non-fatal injuries.
"I know how you feel," said James. "You'd like to stick a knife into me
now. But until you succeed in disposing of Boggs, you need to be sure
I'm alive. When that's over you'll send someone around to take care of
the traitor, James. But you may be sure I won't be here. I'll get
through your guards!"
The man was half crazed, Jorden thought, from infection and fever in
half treated wounds, and probably from the effects of radiation itself.
"We aren't going to set up any guards," he said. "We're going to send
you medical care. Don't try to get away down the river. I'll have some
men who'll take you where you'll be safe and have care."
Jorden left, on the hope that James would not attempt further flight
until he was assured of Boggs' defeat. But the colony could not quickly
administer the kind of defeat James wanted. They had to be orderly, even
if it was a frontier community. There had to be a trial. There had to be
evidence, and James had to be called to give it.
He returned to the village and made arrangements with Adamson to get
medical care for James. Dr. Babbit, one of the four physicians with the
colony, was sufficiently out of sympathy with Boggs to be trusted.
Then, with his family, he accompanied Tibbets to Maintown. On the
bulletin board outside the Council Hall he hung an announcement of his
candidacy for the governorship, which Tibbets had prepared for him.
Tibbets made a little speech to the handful of people who gathered to
read what was on the bulletin, but Jorden declined to make any personal
statement just now. He had enough to say when it came time to accuse
Boggs of the crimes involved in destruction of the power plant.
But among those who squinted closely at Tibbets' fine, black printing
there came a look of mild awe. It had been generally assumed that Boggs
would go unopposed for re-election.
On the way back Tibbets' car passed the length of Maintown and took them
by the deserted house which Jorden had built in their first year on
Serrengia. Bonnie gave it a covetous look, contrasting its spaciousness
with the primitive cabin in which she now lived.
Tibbets caught her glance. "If it were not for Boggs you would still be
living there," he said.
Bonnie made no answer. Both she and Roddy stared ahead, as if unable to
bring their attention to bear upon the present, because of the fear
incited by everything about them. Jorden was also silent, but his eyes
wandered incessantly over the surrounding hills and distant farmlands.
He hadn't bargained for anything like this. He had expected to find
himself in a society of cooperative and uniformly energetic human
beings. He knew now, without any further persuasion, that this had been
a vision strictly from an ivory tower.
He should have anticipated that in a group like this there would be a
sprinkling of small time thugs and dictators and generally shiftless
individuals who could not make a go of it in the society they had left.
At home you could live and work with such without ever being more than
vaguely aware of their eccentricities. Here, their deviation from
required cooperation was enough to disrupt the whole community.
He could understand the terror in Bonnie and Roddy. They had come only
because of him, with no understanding of the colony's purpose. The
present turmoil underlined their conviction that it had been pure folly
to come. Somehow he'd have to show them. He'd have to make them
understand there was a reason for being on Serrengia. But at the moment
he did not know how to do it.
* * * * *
The program called for a continuation well into the night with a long
scene at the cabin, but Ashby interrupted it as soon as they returned
from Maintown. He ordered a twenty four hour rest, because of Bonnie.
The extended period of sleep wouldn't harm Jorden.
Bonnie, however, was furious at the interruption as she came out of the
test pit.
"If you're going to let it go to the end, why don't you get on with it?"
she demanded. "The whole thing is so far off the track that you might as
well find out as soon as possible that you're not getting anywhere."
"I think we're beginning to find out a great deal. But I want you to
have a rest. The hours of this shift are much too long for you."
"You think you know what's going on inside Mark Jorden by watching the
dials and meters, but you don't, because it's not himself he's concerned
about. It's a goal outside and bigger than himself. The colony _means_
something to him. It never meant anything at all to any of the others."
"Then this is the kind of situation we've been looking for."
"But we haven't the techniques or insight to understand it. We can
analyze a man who's running away--but we're not prepared for one who's
running _toward_."
* * * * *
The night after they returned from Maintown a terrific storm broke over
the plateau. It began at supper time and for an hour poured torrents of
water on the land. Jorden wanted to go down to the river to see if their
diversion dams were holding. If they went out it meant long days of hard
hand labor restoring them.
He gave in, however, to Bonnie's plea to stay in the house with them.
Roddy was frightened of the storm and looked physically ill when thunder
made the walls of the cabin shake. It wouldn't change the actual facts
of the damage to the dams whether Jorden examined them now or in the
morning. He tried to think up stories to tell the children, but it was
hard to make up some dealing only with Serrengia and ignoring Earth, as
he had to do for Roddy's sake.
After the rain finally stopped and Bonnie had put the children to bed
there came a knock at the door. Bonnie opened it. Governor Boggs and two
Council members moved into the room. Little pools of water drained to
the floor about their feet.
The Governor turned slowly and grinned at Bonnie and Mark Jorden as the
light from the lamp and the fireplace fell upon him. "Nasty night out,"
he said. "For a time I was afraid we weren't going to make it."
Boggs was a short, stout man and carried himself very erect. He seemed
to exaggerate his normal posture as he moved toward the chairs Bonnie
offered the men.
Jorden remained seated in his big wooden chair by the fireplace glancing
up with cold challenge in his face as his visitors settled on the
opposite side of the fire.
"I'm sorry we missed you when you were in town today," said Boggs. "It
was not until late this afternoon that I became aware of your visit."
He reached to an inner coat pocket and drew forth a paper which he
unfolded carefully. Jorden recognized it as the announcement he had
tacked on the bulletin board. Boggs passed it over.
"I felt sure you would wish to withdraw this, Jorden, after you had
given it a little fuller consideration. I'm sure that by now you have
had time to think over the matter a little more calmly and find a good
many reasons why you should withdraw your announcement."
"I haven't thought much about it," said Jorden, "but now that you call
it to my attention I am becoming aware of an increasing number of
reasons why I should not withdraw. I assure you I have no intention of
doing so."
Boggs smiled and folded up the paper and slipped it into the fire. "I
have not been such a bad administrator during my first term of office,
have I Jorden?"
"That is for the people to decide--on election day."
"But why should they want to change a perfectly capable administrator,"
said Boggs in an injured tone, "and put in a very capable engineer and
farm manager--who has no qualifications in administrative matters?"
"That too is a question to be answered on election day."
Boggs shifted in his chair, dropping the deliberately maintained smile
from his face. "There have been some stories circulating about the
colony recently," he said. "It is possible that you have heard them and
believe them."
"Possibly," said Jorden.
"I wouldn't. I wouldn't believe them if I were you. I wouldn't even
listen to them because it might lead to dangerous and erroneous
conclusions, which would cause you to convict in your mind an honest
man."
"That would be my error then, wouldn't it?" said Jorden.
The Governor nodded. "A grave one as far as it concerns the welfare of
yourself and your family, Jorden."
Jorden's face hardened. "Threats of that kind aren't appropriate to your
position, Governor."
"Perhaps you are not aware of my exact position."
"I think I am! And I intend to do everything in my power to change it.
You are a small time chiseler who saw a good chance to set yourself up
for life in a cushy situation where five hundred other people would obey
your slightest whim. That's an old fashioned situation, Boggs, and you
can't set it up here even if you are willing to resort to sabotage and
murder."
Boggs eyes narrowed and he looked at Jorden for a long time. "I am
afraid, then," he said, "that there is nothing I can do except put a
stop to your repeating these lying stories about me."
The Governor's eyes never moved, but Jorden shifted in sudden, wild
indecision. Almost simultaneously there were two shots exploding in the
narrow cabin, and then a third. Jorden and Boggs leaped out of their
chairs.
[Illustration]
From the kitchen doorway came the steel-taut voice of Bonnie. "Don't
move any further, Mr. Boggs. Put your hands in the air. Get his gun,
Mark--in the pocket on this side."
For a moment Jorden hesitated, his eyes held by the sight of Boggs' two
gunmen on the floor, blood spreading in tiny rivulets. He took the
pistol from the Governor's pocket and held it in readiness.
"I ought to kill you now, Boggs," he said. "Fortunately, or
unfortunately, we have to set a precedent in such matters if the colony
is to survive. We have to go through the formality of a trial for
sabotaging the power plant and murdering those killed there. Actually,
it would be a good idea if you just took off over the hills and went as
far as you could before the jungle got you. It would save us all a great
deal of trouble."
Hope surged in Boggs' eyes as he recognized that Jorden was incapable of
shooting him down. Then bitterness mingled with that hope. "You won't
get away with this, Jorden. We'll see what the people have to say about
your wife shooting my men down while my back is turned."
"_Their_ backs weren't turned," said Jorden. "Get them out of here now.
If you want to save explanations as to why you came here tonight you
might find a convenient spot and bury them--before you take out over the
hills yourself."
Watching until they could no longer see the lights of Boggs' car, they
closed the door. Bonnie collapsed with a moan, cringing in Jorden's
arms.
"Now they'll kill us all," she said in a lifeless voice. "We haven't got
a chance. For this we followed your great dream of colonizing an outpost
of the Universe!"
* * * * *
That night Roddy was sick. Six days later he was dead. Before they
decided to go through with this section of the program there were long
and heated conferences between Bonnie and Ashby and the staff working at
the test pit. Bonnie insisted the program should be dropped here. They
already knew that Jorden was what they were searching for. They had only
to analyze the factors that had brought him to the test and they would
have what they needed to identify as many colonists as the project
required. He didn't need to be broken down any further.
Ashby knew this was not true. Jorden's basic purpose as a colonist had
not yet been brought into sight. Ashby recognized that his goal was
almost certainly the perpetuation of the colony--and he was the first
one who had maintained such a goal this far--but they had to know the
drive that existed behind the goal. If it should develop a basis wholly
in flight it would still crack before completion of the program.
But Ashby continued to be hesitant on Bonnie's account. Roddy's illness
and death meant a continuous tour in the test pit for the full six days.
And this was cut from the scheduled eight it normally occupied. Why it
was impossible for Bonnie to reduce her own personal tension on the
project, Ashby didn't know, but she had become increasingly susceptible
as time went on.
Word of Jorden's persistence was spreading among the staff personnel of
other sections of the lab. A subdued excitement was stirring among them.
In most cases so far examined, the colonist had by now either knuckled
under to Boggs or engaged in a futile personal duel with him. If they
went further, they almost invariably collapsed under the pressure of
Bonnie's blame and began cursing Serrengia as well as the Earth from
which they fled.
Ashby ordered resumption of the program. It was an agony for him, too,
watching Bonnie during the long hours of Roddy's illness. It seemed
every bit as much a test of her strength and endurance as it was of Mark
Jorden's. With the televiewer Ashby brought an image of her face up
close, studying her from every angle during the long nights when she and
Mark Jorden exchanged vigil over Roddy. He scanned her face by the
firelight of the rough cabin.
After three days, Jorden was running close to exhaustion, but in spite
of the strain Bonnie seemed capable of remaining there forever. Her eyes
watched Jorden's face, taking in his every movement and expression.
And after three days of watching Bonnie's face in close-up, Ashby
suddenly murmured aloud to himself in disbelief and astonishment.
Dr. Miller, who was Tibbets in the program, came up to his side. "What
is it, Ashby? Has something gone wrong?"
Ashby shook his head slowly in wonder and pointed to the image in the
viewer. "Look at her," he said. "Can't you see what has happened to
Bonnie? We should have caught it long ago. No wonder this job is tearing
her apart--no wonder she doesn't want it to end the way it must--or end
at all, for that matter!"
"I still don't see what you are talking about," said Miller in
exasperation. "I don't see that anything has happened to her. She looks
like the same old Bonnie to me."
"Does she?" said Ashby. "Watch her when she looks at Jorden. Can't you
see she has fallen in love with him?"
* * * * *
There was probably a whole class of people like Roddy, Jorden thought.
People incapable of surviving beyond the world on which they were born.
Since the day of his coming Roddy had fought an unceasing battle with
this hated, alien world of Serrengia. He awoke each morning to renew the
unequal contest before he was even out of bed--and knowing fully that he
was beaten before he started.
Jorden had tried every way he knew to instill into his son some of his
own love for this new world. It was a good world and the men who grew up
on it in the years to come would love it with all their hearts. But
Roddy could not give up his reaching back, his longing for Earth. He
shrank before the problem of their doubtful food supply. He caught
snatches of adult worries and nourished them with a dark agony that made
it appear to Jorden sometimes as if the boy were walking in a nightmare.
It had been cruel and brutal to bring him. But there was no use blaming
himself for that. If only Bonnie would stop blaming him! He couldn't
have known ahead of time that Roddy was one of those who could not
be--transplanted. Fervently, he prayed for the boy's life now and vowed
that when the ships came again he would be free to go home.
And always Bonnie's eyes were upon him. Sitting in the firelight of the
cabin, he could feel her staring at him, accusing him, hating him for
bringing them to Serrengia.
Once he looked up and caught her glance. "Don't hate me so much,
Bonnie!" he said. "You're driving Roddy down. I can feel it. Reach out
to him with your love and don't let him go."
But Roddy said later that same evening, "Maybe I'll go back to Earth
now, Daddy. Do you think that's where little boys go when they die?"
He wanted to return so badly that he was willing to die to achieve it,
Jorden thought. That's what Dr. Babbit said: "Roddy doesn't even want to
live, Jorden. As incredible as it seems, he's literally dying of
homesickness. I'm afraid there's not a thing I can do for him. I'm
sorry, but it's up to you. You and Bonnie are the only ones who can give
him a desire to remain, if anyone can."
Roddy's hate for Serrengia was greater than any desire they could induce
in him to live. With ease, he conquered all the miracle drugs Dr. Babbit
lavished from the colony's restricted store. He died on the sixth night
after Boggs' visit.
* * * * *
The funeral was held in the little community church built when the
colonists first laid out Maintown. Mark and Bonnie Jorden were almost
oblivious to the words spoken over the body of Roddy by the Reverend
Wagner, who had come as the colonists' spiritual adviser.
Bonnie's hands were folded on her lap, and she kept her eyes down
throughout the service. She was aware of the agony within Mark Jorden.
It was a real agony, and its strength almost frightened her, for she had
never before seen such a response in any man who had gone through the
test this far. They were men concerned only with themselves, incapable
of the love that Jorden could feel for a son.
He reached out and took one of her hands in his own. She could feel the
emotion within him, the tightening and trembling of his big,
hard-muscled arm.
Ashby was watching. Over the private communication system that linked
them he murmured, "Cry, Bonnie! Make it real. Make him hate himself and
everything he's done since he decided to become a colonist--if you can!
This is where we've got to find out whether he can crack or not--and
why."
"You can't break him," said Bonnie. "He's the strongest man I've ever
known. If you find his breaking point it will be when you destroy him
utterly. You've got to quit before you reach that point!"
"All that we've done will be useless if we quit now, Bonnie. Just a few
more hours and then it will all be over--"
As if his words had touched a hidden trigger, she did begin to cry with
a deep but almost inaudible sound and a heavy movement of her shoulders.
Mark Jorden put his arm about her as if to force away her grief.
"I _know_, Bonnie," said Ashby softly. "I can see in your face what's
happened to you. It's going to be all right. Everything doesn't end for
you when the test is over."
"Oh, shut up!" said Bonnie in a sudden rage that made her tears come
faster. "If I ever work on another of your damned experiments it will be
when I've lost my senses entirely! You don't know what this does to
people. I didn't know either--because I didn't care. But now I know--"
"You know that no harm results after we've erased and corrected all
inadequate reactions at the end of the test. You're letting your
feelings cover up your full awareness of what we're doing."
"Yes, and I suppose that when it's over I had better submit to a little
erasing myself. Then Bonnie can go back to work as a little iced steel
probe for some more of your guinea pigs!"
"Bonnie--!"
She made no answer to Ashby, but lay her head on Jorden's shoulder while
her sobbing subsided. How did it happen? she asked herself. It wasn't
anything she had wanted. It had just happened. It had happened that
first day when he came in from the field at the beginning of the
experiment with all of the planted background that made him think he was
meeting Bonnie for the thousandth time instead of the first.
She was supposed to be an actress and receive his husbandly kiss with
all the skilled mimicry that made her so valuable to the lab. But it
hadn't been like that. She had played sister, mother, daughter, wife--a
hundred roles to as many other tested applicants. For the first time she
saw one as a human being instead of a sociological specimen. That's the
way it was when she met Mark Jorden.
There was no answer to it, she thought bitterly as she rested her face
against his shoulder. Ashby was right--just a few more hours and it
would all be over. All Jorden's feeling for her as his wife was induced
by the postulates of the test, just as were his feelings for Roddy. His
subjective reactions were real enough, but they would vanish when their
stimulus was removed with the test postulates. He would look upon the
restored Roddy as just another little boy--and upon Bonnie, the Doctor
in Sociology, as just another misemployed female.
She raised her head and dried her eyes as she sensed that the service
was ending. Actually, Ashby was right, of course. They had to go on, and
the sooner it came to an end the better it would be for her. She _would_
submit to alteration of her own personal data after the test, she
thought. She would let them erase all feelings and sentiments she held
for Mark Jorden, and then she would be as good as new. After all, if a
sociologist couldn't handle his own reactions in a situation of this
kind he wasn't of much value in his profession!
* * * * *
The sun was hot as they returned from the little burial ground near the
church. There were quite a number of other graves besides Roddy's, but
his was the loneliest, Jorden thought. He had never forgiven them for
robbing him of his home and the only world in which he could live.
[Illustration]
He felt the growing coldness of Bonnie as they came up to their shabby
cabin that had once looked so brave to him. Serrengia had cost him
Bonnie, too. Even before Roddy. She had remained only because it was her
duty.