It all made horrible sense to Lou. “But…what are we supposed to do up here? Turn to rust?”
“Nothing of the sort,” Kaufman said, waving his hand in a negative gesture. “We may not have modern equipment but we can still do good science. We’ll simply have to be more ingenious, more inventive, and make do with the simple equipment that we’re allowed to have.”
Allowed to have, echoed in Lou’s mind. This was a jail, no two ways about it.
“For instance,” Ron Kurtz said, leaning forward on the fragile-looking table, “I’ve never had the time to really write up all the work I’ve done over the last three or four years. I’ve published a few little notes in the journals, but now I can sit back and write up everything carefully, the way it ought to be done.”
To be published where? Lou asked silently. In the chronicles of wasted time?
“It’s quite clear that we won’t be able to make any further progress in genetic engineering,” Kaufman said, taking charge of the discussion once again. “At least we won’t be able to follow our previous route, which required large-scale equipment. So we’re all trying to evolve ideas for useful research that can be accomplished with the laboratory equipment that we now have.
We’d like you to think about what you can do, and how you can do it.”
A computer engineer without a computer. Then Lou thought of Greg’s elaborate lab back at the Institute, millions of dollars worth of automated chemical analysis equipment. No wonder he’s ready to jump ship.
Aloud, he said, “Okay… I’ll try to think up something.”
He started to get up from the table.
“Oh yes,” Kaufman added. “You must have some very interesting tales to tell about your adventures over the past several weeks. Maybe you’d be good enough to tell the whole population, tonight, over our closed circuit Tri-V system.”
That caught Lou by surprise. “Well, I don’t know…”
“Of course you will,” Kaufman said. The discussion was ended.
Lou stood there awkwardly for a moment. Then the others started to get up. He turned and headed for the door. As he stepped out into the corridor, Greg said from just behind him:
“Don’t get up tight about being a Tri-V performer, buddy.”
Lou turned to him. “Easy for you to say.”
Greg put an arm around Lou’s shoulder and they started up the corridor together. “Don’t worry pal. All you’ll have to do is sit down with me and one or two other guys and we’ll talk. That’s all. You won’t even know the camera’s on you. It’s simple.”‘
“My big chance in show business.”
Greg smiled, but there was sadness in it. “Listen… we’re all going a little crazy for something to do, something to talk about. It hasn’t been easy, suddenly finding yourself cooped up in this squirrel cage…”
They were heading toward the dimly-lit section of the corridor, where the outside viewport was.
Lou asked, “And what’s your scientific research project for the next fifty years?”
“You don’t want to see a grown man cry, do you? Weren’t those guys pathetic in there? They’re talking about re-doing Calvin’s work on photosynthesis or writing their memoirs. Lord, they’re just going to fill in some time before they curl up their toes and die.”
“That would be very patriotic of them,” Lou said. “The government would be awfully pleased if we all just passed away. nice and neat, without a fuss. It’s exactly what they want down there.”
“Hmp.”
They were in the darkened part of the corridor now. Greg stopped in front of the viewport. There was Earth, swinging slowly, majestically, in rhythm to the satellite’s spin.
“That’s what makes it hard,” Greg said, staring. “Seeing her out there. Knowing she’s only a few hundred kilometers away—”
Lou grabbed his arm. “Come on, snap out of it. Let’s get some coffee. You going back in to talk with Kori? He’s due to see the Council at nine-thirty.”
Pulling himself away from the viewport, Greg said, “I know… but I’m not going back in there. Those guys are looking more like a morticians’ convention every day. I think I’m going to go crazy… and soon, too.”
Lou tried to laugh at him. It sounded hollow.
It was an empty day. Lou spent it prowling through the satellite’s different levels, the wheels within the wheels. He found a fairly decent library, a tiny auditorium, some small telescopes and other astronomical gear scattered here and there. And there was an extensive hydroponic garden running all the way along one of the smaller, innermost rings. The big event of the day was watching a shuttle rocket link up to the satellite’s main airlock, at the zero-gravity hub, and unload fresh food and medical supplies.
He called Bonnie for dinner, and they went together to the cafeteria.
“Do you know where Kori is?” Bonnie asked as they put their trays down on a table.
Lou shook his head. “And I’m not going to look for him. I’d like to have you to myself for once.”
She smiled at him.
They ate with very little conversation. Finally, as he toyed with a gelatin dessert, Lou burst out:
“God, this is awful! Depressing! It’s just terrible—How in the name of sanity are we supposed to stand it! To spend the rest of our lives like this!”
She reached out and touched his hand. “Lou… people are staring at you.”
“Bonnie, get out of here. Tell them you want to get off on the next rocket. Don’t stay. Get out while you can.”
“It does look bad, Lou,” she said quietly, trying to tone him down. “But it’ll get better. I know it will. Right now, everybody’s still sort of in shock. Nobody’s used to this yet. It’ll get better—”
“No. It’s going to get worse. I can feel it. Everybody’s so hopeless! There’s no purpose to their lives, there’s nothing to live for!”
“They’ll adjust,” Bonnie said. “So will we.”
“We?”
Just then, Kori came striding into the cafeteria, long-legged, loose-jointed, and spotted them. He ambled over to their table, smiling broadly. “I’ve been looking every place for you.”
Looking up at him, Lou snapped, “How can you be so blazing cheerful?”
Kori shrugged, “Well, I had good news for you. Greg Belsen said you’d be glad to hear it. But if you don’t want me to tell you…”
“All right… all right. Sit down, wise guy.” Despite himself, Lou was grinning back at Kori. “Now tell me the good news. I could use some.”
“Well… on the shuttle rocket today they brought my holograms. The ones from Starfarer. Dr. Kaufman said I could show them tonight, and you won’t have to talk about your glorious adventures after all.”
“Great,” Lou said. “Best news I’ve heard all day.”
“Greg said you’d be pleased.”
Lou walked Bonnie back to her quarters, while Kori went to find the special compartment that had been set up as a Tri-V studio.
“You can’t stay here in jail.” Lou told her as they walked down the corridor, “I won’t let you.”
“But I can’t go back to Earth and know that you and Kori and the others are trapped here. I just can’t, Lou.”
“Do you think it’ll make me feel any better knowing that you’re staying here because you feel sorry for me?”
They were at her door now. “I don’t know,” Bonnie said. “It’s lousy no matter which way you look at it.”
Lou nodded agreement.
“Would you like to come in and watch Kori’s show?”
“Sure… I tried watching Tri-V shows beamed up from Earth for a while this afternoon. It kind of hurts; comedies and love stories and newscasts… all of it happening where there are cities and trees and mountains and wind and…”