"Dying violently happened so seldom on Earth that, after a long time,
the sight of it began to drive some people mad. And then one day a man
was struck by one of the ground cars and _everyone_ who saw it went
insane. Since then we've eliminated accidents, even the idea. Now, no
one is aware that death by violence is even a possibility."
"I'm sorry," said Michael, "we've been so close to violent death for
so long.... What you've seen is part of the proof you asked for."
"What you showed us was a picture," said the President. "If it had
been real, we'd all be insane by now. If it were shown to the people
there'd be mass hysteria."
"But even if we'd found another habitable planet, getting to it would
involve just what we've shown you. Maybe only a tenth of the people
who left Earth, or a hundredth, would ever reach a destination out in
space."
"We couldn't tolerate such a possibility," said the President
gravely. "We'd have to find a way around it."
The pumps throbbed like giant hearts all through the stillness in the
council chambers. The faces along the line of desks were smoothing
out; the terror in them was fading away.
"And yet the Earth is almost dead," said Michael quietly, "and you
can't bring it back to life."
"The sins of our past, Mr. Nelson," said the President. "The Atomic
wars five thousand years ago. And the greed. It was too late a long
time ago. That, of course, is why the expedition was sent out. And now
you've come back to us with this terrible news." He looked around,
slowly, then back to Michael. "Can you give us any hope at all?"
"None."
"Another expedition? To Andromeda perhaps? With you the leader?"
Michael shook his head. "We're finished with expeditions, Mr.
President."
There were mutterings in the council, and hastily whispered
consultations. Now they were watching the man and woman again.
"We feel," said the President, "it would be dangerous to allow you to
go out among the people. They've been informed that your statement
wasn't entirely true. This was necessary, to avoid a panic. The people
simply must not know the whole truth." He paused. "Now we ask you to
keep in mind that whatever we decide about the two of you will be for
the good of the people."
Michael and Mary were silent.
"You'll wait outside the council chambers," the President went on,
"until we have reached our decision."
As the man and woman were led away, the pumps beat in the stillness,
and at the edge of the shrinking seas the salt thick waters were being
pulled into the distilleries, and from them into the tier upon tier of
artificial gardens that sat like giant bee hives all around the
shoreline; and the mounds of salt glistening in the sunlight behind
the gardens were growing into mountains.
* * * * *
In their rooms, Michael and Mary were talking through the hours, and
waiting. All around them were fragile, form-fitting chairs and
translucent walls and a ceiling that, holding the light of the sun
when they had first seen it, was now filled with moonlight.
Standing at a circular window, ten feet in diameter, Michael saw, far
below, the lights of the city extending into the darkness along the
shoreline of the sea.
"We should have delivered our message by radio," he said, "and gone
back into space."
"You could probably still go," she said quietly.
He came and stood beside her. "I couldn't stand being out in space, or
anywhere, without you."
She looked up at him. "We could go out into the wilderness, Michael,
outside the force walls. We could go far away."