And Asteroid Central became a symbol of that growth. Over the centuries the city had developed into the great nerve center of the culture, the main communications center, the major city and the central fortress of the Spacer clan. To Ben Trefon the asteroid city, with its winding commercial concourses, its residential wings, its shops and factories and laboratories, its schools and hospitals, was as familiar as the back of his hand. To Tom and Joyce it seemed like an incredible replica of the great steel cities on Earth that they knew so well, a world they had never dreamed that Spacers could even be acquainted with.
Now they were waiting with Ben outside the great Council chambers somewhere deep in the heart of the asteroid. Already word had spread through the city that the son of Ivan Trefon had run the blockade to bring a message from outside, and was demanding an audience with the commander-in-chief of the Spacer Council himself. But the city’s jubilation at Ben’s return was quickly tempered first with shock and then with suspicion, for he had not returned to the Spacer stronghold alone.
Instead, he had brought with him two of the enemy the city had been learning to hate so deeply, and he brought them not as prisoners but as friends and envoys, insisting that diplomatic courtesy be shown them.
But the Spacers in Asteroid Central were in no temper for diplomacy. Already the strain of the blockade was showing on their faces. The enormous size and power of the invading fleet from Earth had caught Central unprepared. Even the Spacer Council had been staggered, and now the people of the city were beaten to quarters, beleaguered in their last stronghold. Faces were haggard and eyes worried; voices were guarded, and throughout the city the unspoken questions hovered in everyone’s mind: How long can we hold out? How can we bring an end to the siege, and what will happen if we fail to break it?
As they waited for the commander-in-chief to appear, Ben fought down a wave of hopelessness. At the worst he had hoped that his own people would accept his friends at face value, at least be willing to listen. Somewhere a beginning had to be made. Asteroid Central could not survive an endless period of siege. Even if there were food and water enough for years, and some way of fighting down the tension of perpetually waiting without any way of fighting back, every new day brought the threat that one of the blockading ships would find a way through the Maze with a cargo of hydrogen warheads in its hold.
And even if the Spacer fleet outside were to attack Earth itself and thus draw away the blockading ships, the Spacers would ultimately lose. Spurred on by anger and vengefulness, there would be no way for the Spacers to control their attack. It would be easy—too easy—to inadvertently smash all life on the planet surface, with radioactive fallout ultimately whittling away the last remains when the attacking ships had gone. With the genetic flaw the Spacers carried, and without maukis to raise their children, even a victorious Spacer clan would presently die, their victory falling into ashes. At the very best, they could hope only for a few survivors, a human race driven back to savagery and forced to begin again the long climb upward.
These were the prospects, if the Searchers’ message could not be broadcast in time. This was the price of ignorance and fear. A great deal was clear to Ben Trefon now that he had never suspected when he joined his raiding party just a few short days before. He knew now that the Earthmen’s fear of Spacers was based on superstition and myth. He also knew now that his own people’s beliefs about Earthmen were distorted by falsehood, distrust and fear. Yet his own contact during the past few days with Tom and Joyce Barron had demonstrated beyond doubt that Earthmen and Spacers were creatures of the same race, human beings with intelligence and resourcefulness and the potential for maturity that the Searchers had been seeking for so long.
If Earthmen and Spacers could reach out for maturity and leave their childish war behind, there would be nothing to stop human beings from expanding outward to join civilizations beyond the stars. Ben Trefon and the Barrons had proven that it could be done.
But their knowledge was useless unless men on both sides could be made to understand and believe them. And it seemed that even Ben’s own people were not willing to listen.
Across the room a door burst open and the commander-in-chief stalked in from the Council chambers.
He was a tall, white-haired man. His hands were calloused, and his brown fatigue shirt was open at the neck. His worn dungarees were smeared with grease, but his crude appearance could not disguise the air of dignity and command he carried about him. Ben Trefon could sense the same suppressed power and strength in this man that he had so often sensed in his father, and the blunt honesty in the commander’s pale blue eyes was reassuring.
Ignoring the Barrons, the commander clasped Ben’s hand warmly. “Welcome home,” he said. “We’d almost lost hope of seeing you again.” He noticed Ben wince as he moved his injured shoulder. “As soon as we’ve got things straightened out here, we’ll get you up for X-rays and find out why that shoulder is still bothering you.”
“The shoulder’s fine,” Ben lied. “There won’t be time for X-rays. There are more important things to do.”
The commander regarded him keenly. “You’ve done quite a bit already, in case you don’t know it.
You accomplished the next thing to a miracle when you ran that blockade.” Ben looked at him. “I had some extraordinary help,” he said.
For the first time the commander glanced at Tom and Joyce. “You also have an extraordinary cargo.
Your prisoners present an unpleasant problem. It’s unfortunate you brought them in. Our food supplies are already low and dwindling fast. We simply can’t afford to feed prisoners of war.”
“These are not prisoners,” Ben said. “They’re friends.”
“I understood that they were impounded on Earth during the raid.”
“They were. But since then they have become friends, and should be treated as such. If necessary I’ll demand it as my right of booty.”
There were tired lines on the commander’s face, and an expression of infinite weariness. “My son, we are in a desperate war, and we cannot honor individual demands.” He stabbed a finger at the Barrons.
“The forces these people represent are doing their utmost to choke us to death, and unless we are more fortunate than we appear to be at the moment, they have good odds of succeeding.” He shook his head and turned away. “I’m sorry, but your demand is refused. You do your people a dishonor consorting with enemy aliens in times like these.”
“As a Spacer,” Ben said doggedly, “I have a right to a hearing before judgment is passed.” Anger flared in the commander’s eyes. “Right? What right? Who are you to be demanding rights at this time? What do you know about this pair? How do you know they aren’t spies, deliberately sent to penetrate this fortress? Friendship, indeed! I will not permit my forces here to be contaminated by contact with a pair of Earth-born snakes, nor with you either, if you’ve been contaminated.” There was a long silence in the little room. Then Ben said, “My father died on Mars. I saw our house after the Earth ships had gone. I saw the houses of my friends there. Do you really think that I’ve been contaminated?”
The commander glared at him for a long moment. Then he sighed and sank down in a chair behind the desk, covering his eyes with his hands in a gesture of weariness. “I’m sorry,” he said at length. “The strain has been great, and anger comes too easily. No, I do not really doubt you. I honored your father above all others when he was alive. I grieve for him and honor him in death, and I honor his son as well. But I simply can’t understand you. A third of your people are scattered to the four winds, unable to contact us even by radio. And here your people are reaching the breaking point. If I speak in anger, it is simply because I cannot comprehend the presence of these prisoners under your protection.”