"Neither can I," Captain Bascom agreed.
Matt said, "Suppose we turn around and go back. I think we've seen
enough for today. If we have to come into the city, we can use the
space suits."
"Yes," said Captain Bascom, "Let's get back. By all means. I--I....
Please excuse me, gentlemen, I'm making an ass of myself. But I left a
wife and two children in Detroit. I...." His voice choked up.
Matt saw that tears were trickling down the Captain's gaunt cheeks, and
looked away in embarrassment.
* * * * *
Back at the ship, the director received Captain Bascom's report
stoically. They were in Trigg's office aboard the _Argus_--the five men
and the girl who had made the dash into Louisville and back.
Matt sank into a chair, watching the director's face narrowly as
he read the copy of the Shepherdsville Gazette. Matt felt tired,
discouraged, listless. The repeated shocks of their discoveries had
been insidious. He was appalled suddenly by the catastrophe which
seemed to have engulfed the whole world.
He felt a small hand slip into his. It was Lynn. She summoned a smile.
The girl looked washed out and frightened. Her blue eyes were enormous.
After a while Trigg folded the paper, looking intently from face to
face.
"I think," he said, "we had better call a meeting. There are some vital
problems we must face. I--I have expected something like this ever
since we landed last night."
_Last night?_ Matt thought. _Only last night. It seems like a year ago._
"When do you want to call the meeting?" Captain Bascom asked.
"After the evening meal. We are in a peculiar position. We may be the
only human survivors!"
Matt said, "Surely--someplace--_someone_ escaped the plague. It's
inconceivable that it wiped out the entire species."
"Species have been wiped out before," Trigg reminded him grimly. "But
there is a chance, of course, that isolated communities have survived.
That's one thing I want to take up at the meeting. The possibility of
contacting any survivors."
Matt realized the director was regarding Lynn grimly.
"Until we do establish contact with other communities," Trigg went on,
"we'll have to assume that we are alone...."
"What are you driving at?"
"Survival!"
Matt's eyes narrowed, and he ran his hand through his crisp black hair.
"Go on," he said.
"Survival of the race. There are nine women. But only seven are young
enough to bear children."
Lynn's eyes were enormous. She said, "What do you mean, Isaac?" in a
tight voice.
"I mean," rejoined the director, "that you'll be expected to bear
children--lots of children--and the sooner you get about it, the
better!"