"No," chorused Fox and Garcia weakly.
The lieutenant snapped, almost accusingly, "Then we'd be exiles from
our own people. They'd call us traitors."
"Who cares?" said Fox.
"_I_ care," grumbled the lieutenant.
Captain Torkel turned to Garcia. "How do you feel about this? Would you
care?"
Garcia wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I wouldn't care
about _that_. To hell with it. But--"
"Yes?"
"I'm not sure if I like the idea of someone else doing my job for me.
I'm a good engineer. I'm forty years old, and no one's ever had to do
my job for me."
The captain pursed his lips. "Well, I suppose you two could relieve two
of the Sirians and go to Earth while Fox and Kelly and I stay here."
Lieutenant Washington snorted, "You've changed, Captain. You used to be
so damned anxious to get back to Earth. What's happened to you?"
* * * * *
The captain pretended to be in deep thought. "I suppose it's because it
was hard for me to make that decision not to go back to Earth. When I
did make it, it was a solid decision, one not easily changed. Besides,
you said yourself that we couldn't take another six or twelve years in
space, that we'd go mad."
"But it's different now. We've gotten some of the madness out of us. I
haven't had a drink since this afternoon. Garcia's got rid of some of
his hatred. Maybe killing Van Gundy was like a kind of shock treatment
to him. And Fox--"
"He's right," Fox interrupted him. "I'm going to stay here. Don't try
to talk me out of that. But I feel _cleaner_ inside. I guess when you
know that nobody'll stop you from stealing, you lose desire."
"Even Kelly's better," said the lieutenant. "Look at the way he's been
talking."
Captain Torkel nodded. "Yes, and my memory's been better these past
few hours. You know, men, I _do_ keep thinking of what Taaleeb said.
He said he wanted to see as much as possible of our world before its
death. If those predictions should turn out right, we'd have a whole
week to spend on Earth. I could see Dakota again, see the wheat and the
sky and the hills."
Lieutenant Washington mused "And I could fly down to Louisiana, take
a look at Maine, too. Maybe put some flowers on Mom's grave, make her
ready to become warm again."
Garcia said wistfully, "And we could see Monterey and the boats and
listen to the gulls. And maybe that old flower peddler Van Gundy knew
is still in Frisco. I bet Van Gundy'd like us to find out." He began to
laugh almost hysterically.
"I'm going to stay here," declared Fox, "but we never thought of that
week, did we? We kept thinking of being in space for twelve unbroken
years. It wouldn't be that way at all."
Captain Torkel asked, "Wouldn't you like to see Broadway again, Fox?
I'll bet they'll have it all lit up, all shining and proud and full of
life. Wouldn't you, Fox?"
Fox gulped. Even in the gathering darkness, the captain saw tears in
his eyes. "I--yes, Captain. I guess I would."
"And your wife, Fox?"
Fox wiped his eyes. "I don't know." Then he jerked backward. "I just
thought of something. My wife'll be _here_ in twelve years. She'll make
the journey all right, make it if she has to take a rocket by herself
and hold it together with hairpins. She'll locate me, too. When she
finds out what I've--"
Fox suddenly stood very straight and heroic. "Captain, I'm going back
to Earth--right now."
"And I," said Lieutenant Washington deeply.
"I _want_ to go," said Garcia, his voice cracking, "but I'm a murderer.
You don't want a murderer with you, do you?"
Captain Torkel glanced nervously toward the forest. He wasn't sure, but
he thought he saw faint reflections of lights, and voices.
"We need you, Garcia. You've got to take care of those engines. We'll
have a trial. Court is now in session. How do you plead?"
"I--"
"Guilty. Okay. Sentence suspended. Let's get aboard."
He kept his hand in his pocket, tight about the pistol. To Taaleeb he
said, "Thanks, friend, but I guess we won't need your help after all."
He shot out the thought: _Keep smiling, fellow. Keep smiling until the
very last second._
Fox slapped Kelly's face to gain his attention. "Kelly, we're going
back to Earth. We're going home, back where your wife is. You want to
come along or stay here alone?"
"Alone?"
"Alone."
"Kelly, Kelly--"
"Where, Kelly? To the village or to Earth? Damn you, say it!"
"Kelly go--Earth."
* * * * *
Captain Torkel leaned back in his crash-chair. The rocket shook under
the vibration of thundering atomic engines. He flicked a switch.
Acceleration began.
"Brace yourselves, men! Earth, here we come!"
Before the rising acceleration froze his movements, he snapped on the
starboard visi-screen.
He stared only for a second.
He stared at the mass of Sirians filtering out of the dark forest,
their sleek bodies illumined by the crimson glare from the jets and by
the trembling fires from their torches.
They were like red devils, their faces contorted in rage and hatred
as they poured over the meadow. Captain Torkel shivered at the sight
of the knives, stones, clubs in upraised hands, at the savage mouths
spitting forth alien oaths. This was what mankind would meet when the
refugee ships began to land, twelve years hence.... But they had
twelve years to decide what to do about it.
Then the image was swept away in space like a red stone falling into
the depths of a black pool.
Captain Torkel turned off the screen. Acceleration pushed him deeper
and deeper into his chair.
Soon the thunder of the jets faded, and there was silence. The
blackness of space pushed itself against the ports. Captain Torkel cut
the engines.
"Beautiful Louisiana," said Lieutenant Washington in low, reverent
tones, "and lovely Maine."
"Good old Broadway."
"And the gulls and boats at Monterey."
"And North Dakota."
"Heaven," mumbled Kelly.