"I came from the Earth," she said quietly. "And I've got to go back to
it. Space is so cold and frightening. Steel walls and blackness and
the rockets and the little pinpoints of light. It's a prison."
"But to die out there in the desert, in that dust." Then he paused and
looked away from her. "We're crazy--talking as though we had a
choice."
"Maybe they'll have to _give_ us a choice."
"What're you talking about?"
"They went into hysterics at the sight of those bodies in the picture.
Those young bodies that didn't die of old age."
He waited.
"They can't stand the sight of people dying violently."
Her hand went to her throat and touched the tiny locket.
"These lockets were given to us so we'd have a choice between
suffering or quick painless death.... We still have a choice."
He touched the locket at his own throat and was very still for a long
moment. "So we threaten to kill ourselves, before their eyes. What
would it do to them?"
He was still for a long time. "Sometimes, Mary, I think I don't know
you at all." A pause. "And so now you and I are back where we started.
Which'll it be, space or Earth?"
"Michael." Her voice trembled. "I--I don't know how to say this."
He waited, frowning, watching her intently.
"I'm--going to have a child."
His face went blank.
Then he stepped forward and took her by the shoulders. He saw the
softness there in her face; saw her eyes bright as though the sun were
shining in them; saw a flush in her cheeks, as though she had been
running. And suddenly his throat was full.
"No," he said thickly. "I can't believe it."
"It's true."
He held her for a long time, then he turned his eyes aside.
"Yes, I can see it is."
"I--I can't put into words why I let it happen, Michael."
He shook his head. "I don't know--what to--to say. It's so
incredible."
"Maybe--I got so--tired--just seeing the two of us over and over again
and the culturing of the scar tissue, for twenty centuries. Maybe that
was it. It was just--something I felt I _had_ to do. Some--_real_ life
again. Something new. I felt a need to produce something out of
myself. It all started way out in space, while we were getting close
to the solar system. I began to wonder if we'd ever get out of the
ship alive or if we'd ever see a sunset again or a dawn or the night
or morning like we'd seen on Earth--so--so long ago. And then I _had_
to let it happen. It was a vague and strange thing. There was
something forcing me. But at the same time I wanted it, too. I seemed
to be willing it, seemed to be feeling it was a necessary thing." She
paused, frowning. "I didn't stop to think--it would be like this."
"Such a thing," he said, smiling grimly, "hasn't happened on Earth for
three thousand years. I can remember in school, reading in the history
books, how the whole Earth was overcrowded and how the food and water
had to be rationed and then how the laws were passed forbidding birth
and after that how the people died and there weren't any more babies
born, until at last there was plenty of what the Earth had to give,
for everyone. And then the news was broken to everyone about the
culturing of the scar tissue, and there were a few dissenters but they
were soon conditioned out of their dissension and the population was
stabilized." He paused. "After all this past history, I don't think
the council could endure what you've done."
"No," she said quietly. "I don't think they could."
"And so this will be just for _us_." He took her in his arms. "If I
remember rightly, this is a traditional action." A pause. "Now I'll go
with you out onto the Earth--if we can swing it. When we get outside
the city, or if we do--Well, we'll see."
They were very still together and then he turned and stood by the
window and looked down upon the city and she came and stood beside
him.
* * * * *
They both saw it at the same time. And they watched, without speaking,
both knowing what was in the other's mind and heart. They watched the
giant four dimensional screens all through the city. A green, lush
planet showed bright and clear on them and there were ships standing
among the trees and men walking through the grass, that moved gently
like the swells on a calm ocean, while into their minds came the
thoughts projected from the screen:
"This will be your new home. It was found and then lost. But another
expedition will be sent out to find it again. Be of good hope.
Everything will be all right."
Michael turned from the window. "So there's our evidence. Two thousand
years. All the others killed getting it. And with a simple twist, it
becomes a lie."
Mary sat down and buried her face in her hands.
"What a terrible failure there's been here," said Michael. "The
neglect and destruction of a whole planet. It's like a family letting
their home decay all around them, and living in smaller and smaller
rooms of it, until at last the rooms are all gone, and since they
can't find another home, they all die in the ruins of the last room."
"I can't face dying," Mary said quietly, "squeezed in with all these
people, in this tomb they've made around the seas. I want to have the
open sky and the quiet away from those awful pounding pumps when I
die. I want the spread of the Earth all around and the clean air. I
want to be a real part of the Earth again."
Michael barely nodded in agreement. He was standing very still now.
And then there was the sound of the door opening.
They both rose, like mourners at a funeral, and went into the council
chambers.
* * * * *
Again they sat in the thick chairs before the wall of desks with the
faces of the council looking across it like defenders.
The pumps were beating, beating all through the room and the quiet.
The President was standing. He faced Michael and Mary, and seemed to
set himself as though to deliver a blow, or to receive one.
"Michael and Mary," he said, his voice struggling against a tightness,
"we've considered a long time concerning what is to be done with you
and the report you brought back to us from the galaxy." He took
another swallow of water. "To protect the sanity of the people, we've
changed your report. We've also decided that the people must be
protected from the possibility of your spreading the truth, as you did
at the landing field. So, for the good of the people, you'll be
isolated. All comforts will be given you. After all, in a sense, you
_are_ heroes and martyrs. Your scar tissue will be cultured as it has
been in the past, and you will stay in solitary confinement until the
time when, perhaps, we can migrate to another planet. We feel that
hope must not be destroyed. And so another expedition is being sent
out. It may be that, in time, on another planet, you'll be able to
take your place in our society."