I couldn't say anything. Dad had never done anything like this to me before. I sat there, working my mouth like a fish. Finally I managed, "Dad, you're joking."
"No, I'm not, Son."
"But why? Answer me that one question: why?"
"Now see here, Son—"
"Call me 'Bill'."
"Okay, Bill. It's one thing for me to decide to take my chances with colonial life but I've got no right to get you off to a bad start. You've got to finish your education. There are no decent schools on Ganymede. You get your education, then when you're grown, if you want to emigrate, that's your business."
"That's the reason? That's the only reason? To go to school?"
"Yes. You stay here and take your degree. I'd like to see you take your doctor's degree as well. Then, if you want to, you can join me. You won't have missed your chance; applicants with close relatives there have priority."
"No!"
Dad looked stubborn.
So did I, I guess. "George, I'm telling you, if you leave me behind, it won't do any good. I won't go to school. I can pass the exams for third class citizenship right now. Then I can get a work permit and—"
He cut me short. "You won't need a work permit. I'm leaving you well provided for, Bill. You'll—"
" 'Well provided for'! Do you think I'd touch a credit of yours if you go away and leave me? I'll live on my student's allowance until I pass the exams and get my work card."
"Bring your voice down, Sonl" He went on, "You're proud of being a Scout, aren't you?"
"Well--yes."
"I seem to remember that Scouts are supposed to be obedient. And courteous, too."
That one was pretty hot over the plate. I had to think about it. "George——"
"Yes, Bill?"
"If I was rude, I'm sorry. But the Scout Law wasn't thought up to make it easy to push a Scout around. As long as I'm living in your home I'll do what you say. But if you walk out on me, you don't have any more claim on me. Isn't that fair?"
"Be reasonable, Son. I'm doing it for your own good."
"Don't change the subject, George. Is that fair or isn't it? If you go hundreds of millions of miles away, how can you expect to run my life after you're gone? I'll be on my own."
"I'll still be your father."
"Fathers and sons should stick together. As I recall, the fathers that came over in the original Mayflower brought their kids with them."
"This is different."
"How?"
"It's further, incredibly further—and dangerous."
"So was that move dangerous—half the Plymouth Rock colony died the first winter; everybody knows that. And distance doesn't mean anything; what matters is how long it takes. If I had had to walk back this afternoon, I'd still be hiking next month. It took the Pilgrims sixty-three days to cross the Atlantic or so they taught me in school—but this afternoon the caster said that the Mayflower—will reach Ganymede in sixty days. That makes Ganymede closer than London was to Plymouth Rock."
Dad stood up and knocked out his pipe. "I'm not going to argue, Son."
"And I'm not, either." I took a deep breath. I shouldn't have said the next thing I did say, but I was mad. I'd never been treated this way before and I guess I wanted to hurt back. "But I can tell you this: you're not the only one who is sick of short rations. If you think I'm going to stay here while you're eating high on the hog out in the colonies, then you had better think about it again. I thought we were partners."
That last was the meanest part of it and I should have been ashamed. That was what he had said to me the day after Anne died, and that was the way it had always been.
The minute I said it I knew why George had to emigrate and I knew it didn't have anything to do with ration points. But I didn't know how to unsay it.
Dad stared. Then he said slowly, "You think that's how it is? That I want to go away so I can quit skipping lunch to save ration points?"
"What else?" I answered. I was stuck in a groove; I didn't know what to say.
"Hmm... well, if you believe that, Bill, there is nothing I can say. I think I'll turn in."
I went to my room, feeling all mixed up inside. I wanted Mother around so bad I could taste it and I knew that George felt the same way. She would never have let us reach the point where we were actually shouting at each other—at least I had shouted. Besides that, the partnership was busted up, it would never be the same.
I felt better after a shower and a long massage. I knew that the partnership couldn't really be busted up. In the long run, when George saw that I had to go, he wouldn't let college stand in the way. I was sure of that—well, pretty sure at least.
I began to think about Ganymede.
Ganymede!
Why, I had never even been out to the Moon!
There was a boy in my class who had been born on the Moon. His parents were still there; he had been sent home for schooling. He gave himself airs as a deep-space man. But Luna was less than a quarter of a million miles away; you could practically throw rocks at it. It wasn't self-supporting; Moon Colony had the same rations as Earth. It was really part of Earth. But Ganymede!
Let's see—Jupiter was half a billion miles away, more or less, depending on the time of year. What was the tiny distance to the Moon compared with a jump like that?
Suddenly I couldn't remember whether Ganymede was Jupiter's third moon or fourth. And I just had to know. There was a book out in the living room that would tell and more besides—Ellsworth Smith's A Tour of Earth's Colonies. I went out to get it.
Dad hadn't gone to bed. He was sitting up, reading. I said, "Oh—hello," and went to look for the book. He nodded and went on reading.
The book wasn't where it should have been. I looked around and Dad said, "What are you looking for, Bill?"
Then I saw that he was reading it. I said, "Oh, nothing. I didn't know you were using it."
"This?" He held it up.
"It doesn't matter. I'll find something else."
"Take it. I'm through with it."
"Well ... All right-thanks." I took it and turned away.
"Just a minute, Bill."
I waited. "I've come to a decision, Bill. I'm not going."
"Huh?"
"You were right about us being partners. My place is here."
"Yes, but— Look, George, I'm sorry I said what I did about rations. I know that's not the reason. The reason is—well, you've got to go." I wanted to tell him I knew the reason was Anne, but if I said Anne's name out loud I was afraid I'd bawl.
"You mean that you are willing to stay behind—and go to school?"
"Uh—" I wasn't quite ready to say that; I was dead set on going myself. "I didn't quite mean that. I meant that I know why you want to go, why you've got to go."
"Hmm..." He lit his pipe, making a long business of it. "I see. Or maybe I don't" Then he added, "Let's put it this way, Bill. The partnership stands. Either we both go, or we both stay—unless you decide of your own volition that you will stay to get your degree and join me out there later. Is that fair?"
"Huh? Oh, yes!"
"So let's talk about it later."
I said goodnight and ducked into my room quick. William, my boy, I told myself, it's practically in the bag—if you can just keep from getting soft-hearted and agreeing to a split up. I crawled into bed and opened the book.
Ganymede was Jupiter-III; I should have remembered that. It was bigger than Mercury, much bigger than the Moon, a respectable planet, even if it was a moon. The surface gravity was one third of Earth-normal; I would weigh about forty-five pounds there. First contacted in 1985—which I knew—and its atmosphere project started in 1998 and had been running ever since.