уTo spacemen, scientists, some colonials, and a few Earthmen glad of an end to stagnation. Not that I deserve their gratitude. There are three dead men who really did all this. But at any rate, my lady, you can foresee what an upheaval is coming. We are suddenly confronted withўWell, see here, the aliens must be spread through at least as large a volume of space as man. And the two races donтt use the same kind of planets. By pooling transceiver networks, weтve doubled both our territories! No government can impose its will on as many worlds as that.
уBut more. There are sciences, technologies, philosophies, religions, arts, insights they have which we never imagined. It cannot be otherwise. And we can offer them ours, of course. How long do you think this narrow little Protectorate and its narrow little minds can survive such an explosion of new thought?ф Maclaren leaned forward. He felt it as an upsurge in himself. уMy lady, if you want to live on a frontier world, and give your child a place where itтs hard and dangerous and challengingўand everything will be possible for him, if heтs big enoughўstay on Earth. The next civilization will begin here on Earth herself.ф
Tamara set down her cup. She bent her face into her hands
and he saw, helpless, how she wept. уIt may be,ф she said to him, уit may be, I donтt know. But why did it have to be David who bought us free? Why did it have to be hith? He didnтt mean to. He wouldnтt have, if heтd known. Iтm not a sentimental fool, Maclaren-san, I know he only wanted to come back here. And he died! Thereтs no meaning in it!ф
XVIII.
THE North Atlantic rolled in from the west, gray and green and full of thunder. A wind blew white manes up on the
waves. Low to the south gleamed the last autumnal daylight,
and clouds massed iron-colored in the north, brewing sleet.
уThere,ф pointed Tamara. уThat is the place.ф
Maclaren slanted his aircar earthward. The sky whistled around him. So Dave had come from here. The island was a grim enough rock, harshly ridged. But Dave had spoken of gorse in summer and heather in fall and lichen of many hues.
The girl caught Maclarenтs arm. уIтm afraid, Terangi,ф she whispered. уI wish you hadnтt made me come.ф
уItтs all we can do for David,ф he told her: уThe last thing weтll ever be able to do for him.ф
уNo.ф In the twilight, he saw how her head lifted. уThereтs never an end. Not really. His child and mine, waiting, andўAt
Ё least we can put a little sense into life.ф
уI donтt know whether we do or whether we find what was always there,ф he replied. уNor do I care greatly. To me, the important thing is that the purposeўorder, beauty, spirit, whatever you want to call itўdoes exist.ф
уHere on Earth, yes,ф she sighed. уA flower or a baby. But then three men die beyond the sun, and it so happens the race benefits a little from it, but I keep thinking about all those people who simply die out there. Or come back blind, crippled, broken like dry sticks, with no living soul the better for it. Why? Iтve asked it and asked it, and there isnтt ever an answer, and finally I think thatтs because there isnтt any why to it in the first place.ф
Maclaren set the car down on the beach. He was still on the same search, along a different road. He had not come here simply to offer Davidтs father whatever he could: reconciliation, at least, and a chance to see Davidтs child now and then in
the years left him. Maclaren had some obscure feeling that an enlightenment might be found on Skula.
Truly enough, he thought, men went to space, as they had gone to sea, and space destroyed them, and still their sons came back. The lure of gain was only a partial answer; spacemen didnтt get any richer than sailors had. Love of adventure . . . well, in part, in some men, and yet by and large the conquerors of distance had never been romantics, they were workaday folk who lived and died among sober realities. When you asked a man what took him out to the black star, he would say he had gone under orders, or that he was getting paid, or that he was curious about it, or any of a hundred reasons. Which might all be true. And yet was any of them the truth?
And why, Maclaren wondered, did man, the race, spend youth and blood and treasure and all high hopes upon the sea and the stars? Was it only the outcome of meaningless forcesў economics, social pressure, maladjustment, myth, whatever you labeled itўa set of chance-created vectors with the sardonic resultant that man broke himself trying to satisfy needs which could have been more easily and sanely filled at home?
If I could get a better answer than that, thought Maclaren, I could give it to Tamara. And to myself And then we could bury our dead.
He helped her out of the car and they walked up a path toward an ancient-looking cottage. Light spilled from its windows into a dusk heavy with surf. But they had not quite reached it when the door opened and a manтs big form was outlined.
уIs that you, Technic Maclaren?ф he called.
уYes. Captain Magnus Ryerson?ф Maclaren stepped ahead of Tamara and bowed. уI took the liberty, sir, of bringing a guest with me whom I did not mention when I called.ф
уI can guess,ф said the tall man. уItтs all right, lass. Come in and welcome.ф
As she passed over the uneven floor to a chair, Tamara brushed Maclaren and took the opportunity to whisper: уHow old heтs grown, all at once!ф
Magnus Ryerson shut the door again. His hands, ropy with veins, shook a little. He leaned heavily on a cane as he crossed
the room and poked up the fire. уBe seated,ф he said to Maclaren. уWhen I knew you were coming, I ordered some whiskey from the mainland. I hope itтs a~ good make. I drink not, you see, but be free to do so yourself.ф
Maclaren looked at the bottle. He didnтt recognize the brand. уThank you,ф he said, уthatтs a special favorite of mine.ф
уYouтve eaten?ф asked the old man anxiously.
уYes, thank you, sir.ф Maclaren accepted a glass. Ryerson limped over the floor to give Tamara one.
уCan you stay the night? Iтve some extra beds in the garret, from when the fisher lads would come by. They come no more, thereтs no reason for it now, but Iтve kept the beds.ф
Maclaren traded a look with Tamara. уWe would be honored,ф he said.
Magnus Ryerson shuffled to the bob, took the tea kettle, poured himself a cup and raised it. уYour health.ф He sat down in a worn chair by the fire. His hands touched a leather-bound book lying on its arm.
THERE was silence for a while, except that they could all hear the waves boom down on the strand.
Maclaren said finally: уI . . . we, I mean . . . we came to
ўoffer our sympathy. And if there was anything I could tell
Ё you . . . I was there, you know.ф
уAye. Youтre kind.ф Ryerson groped after a pipe. уIt is my understanding he conducted himself well.ф
уYes. Of course he did.ф
уThen thatтs what matters. Iтll think of a few questions later, if you give me time. But that was the only important one.ф
Maclaren looked around the room. Through its shadows he saw pilotтs manuals on the shelves, stones and skins and gods brought from beyond the sky; he saw the Sirian binary like twin hells upon darkness, but they were very beautiful. He offered: уYour son was in your own tradition.ф
уBetter, I hope,ф said the old man. уThere would be little sense to existence, did boys have no chance to be more than their fathers.ф
Tamara stood up. уBut thatтs what there isnтt!ф she cried all at once. уThereтs no sense! Thereтs just dying and dying and dying. What for? So that we can walk on another planet, learn
another fact? What have we gained? What have we really done? And why? What did we do that your god sends our men out there now?ф
She clamped her hands together. They heard how the breath rasped in her. She said at last, уIтm sorry,ф and sat back down.
Magnus Ryerson looked up. And his eyes were not old. He let the surf snarl on the rocks of his home for a while. And then he answered her: уFor that is our doom and our pride.ф
