"Monchar," Garuth called. "I have things to attend to. Will you take over here for a while?"
"Aye-aye, sir."
"Very good. I will be in my room if I am needed for anything." Garuth excused himself from the company, acknowledged the salutations around him, and left the command center. He walked slowly through the corridors that led to his private quarters, fully preoccupied with the thoughts inside his head and largely oblivious to his surroundings. When he had closed the door behind him, he stared at himself in the wall mirror in his stateroom for a long time, as if looking for visible changes in his appearance that might have been brought about by what he had done. Then he sank into one of the reclining armchairs and stared unseeingly at the ceiling until he lost track of time.
Eventually he activated the wall screen in the stateroom and called up a star chart that showed the part of the sky that included the constellation of Taurus. For a long time he sat staring at the faint point that would grow progressively brighter in the course of the long voyage ahead. There was a hope that they could all be wrong. There was always a chance. If the Ganymeans had migrated there, what kind of civilization would they have developed over the millions of years that had passed by since the Shapieron departed from Minerva? What kind of science would they possess? What wonders would they accept as commonplace that even he could never conceive? As his mind went out toward the faint spot on the star chart, he felt a sudden surge of hope welling up inside him. He began to picture the world that was there waiting to greet them and he grew restless and impatient at the thought of the years that would have to pass by before they could know.
He knew that the optimism of the human scientists knew no bounds. Already the huge disks of the radio-observatory situated on Lunar Farside were beaming a high-power transmission in Ganymean communications code out toward The Giants' Star to forewarn of the Shapieron's coming--a message that would take years to cover the distance, but which would still arrive well ahead of the ship.
Then he slumped back in the chair, despairing and dispirited. He knew, as his few trusted companions knew, that there would be nobody there to receive it. Nothing in the Lunarian records had proved anything. It was all Earthmen's wishful thinking.
His thoughts went back to the incredible Earthmen--the race that had struggled and fought for millennia to overcome such horrendous difficulties, and who now, at last, were emerging from their past to a prospect of lasting prosperity and wisdom . . . if they could only be left alone for a little longer to complete the things they had so valiantly strived to achieve. They had built their world out of chaos, against all the theories and predictions of all the sages and scientists of Minerva. They deserved to be left alone to enjoy their world without interference.
For Garuth knew, as now only Shilohin, Jassilane and Monchar knew, that the Ganymeans had created the human race.
The Ganymeans had been the direct cause of all the defects, handicaps and problems that should by rights have left Man with all the odds piled hopelessly against him. But Man had triumphed over all of them. Justice demanded now that Man be left alone to perfect his world in his own way and without further interference from the Ganymeans.
The Ganymeans had already interfered enough.
Chapter Twenty-Three
In Danchekker's office, high in the main building of the Westwood Biological Institute on the outskirts of Houston, the professor and Hunt were watching the view of the Shapieron being sent down from a telescopic camera tracking from a satellite high above the Earth. The image grew gradually smaller and then suddenly enlarged again as the magnification was stepped up. Then it began to shrink once more.
"It's just coasting," Hunt commented from an armchair set over to one side of the room. "Seems as if they want to get one last look at us." Danchekker said nothing but just nodded absently as he watched from behind his desk. The commentary coming over on audio confirmed Hunt's observation.
"Radar indicates that the ship is still traveling quite slowly compared to the performance that we have seen before. It doesn't seem to be going into orbit . . . just continuing to move steadily away from Earth. This is the last time you'll have a chance to see this fantastic vessel live, so make the most of the moment. We are looking at the closing page of what has surely been the most astounding chapter ever written in the history of the human race. How can things ever be the same again?" A short pause. "Hello, something's happening I'm told. . . The ship's starting to accelerate now. It's really streaking away from us now, building up speed faster all the time. . . ." The image on the screen began to perform a crazy dance of growing and shrinking again at a bewildering rate.
"They're on main drive," Hunt said, as the commentator continued.
"The image is starting to break up. . . . The stressfield's becoming noticeable now. . . . It's going. . . getting fainter . . . That's it. Well I guess that just about--" The voice and picture died together as Danchekker flipped a switch behind his desk to cut off the display.
"So, there they go to meet whatever destiny awaits them," he said. "I wish them well." A short silence ensued while Hunt fished in his pockets for his lighter and cigarette case. As he leaned back in his chair again he said, "You know, Chris, when you think about it, these last couple of years have been pretty remarkable."
"To say the least."
"Charlie, the Lunarians, the ship at Pithead, the Ganymeans and now this." He gestured toward the blank screen. "What better time could we have picked to be alive? It makes every other period of history seem a bit dull, doesn't it?"
"It does indeed . . . very dull indeed." Danchekker seemed to be answering automatically, as if part of his mind were still hurtling out into space with the Shapieron.
"It's a bit of a pity, though, in some ways," Hunt said after a while.
"What is?"
"The Ganymeans. We never really got to the bottom of some of the interesting questions, did we? It's a pity they couldn't have stayed around just a little longer--until we'd managed to figure out a few more of the answers. Actually I'm a bit surprised they didn't. At one stage they seemed even more curious about some things than we were."
Danchekker seemed to turn the proposition over in his mind for a long time. Then he looked up and across to where Hunt was sitting and eyed him in a strange way. When he spoke his voice was curiously challenging.
"Oh really? Answers to questions such as what, might I ask?" Hunt frowned at him for a second, then shrugged as he exhaled a stream of smoke.
"You know what questions. What happened on Minerva after the Shapieron left? Why did they ship all those terrestrial animals there? What bumped off all the Minervan animals? That kind of thing. . . It would be nice to know, even if it is a bit academic now, if only to tidy all the loose ends up."
"Oh, those." Danchekker's air of studied nonchalance was masterly. "I think I can supply you with whatever answers you require to those questions." The matter-of-factness in Danchekker's voice left Hunt at a loss for words. The professor cocked his head to one side and regarded him quizzically but could not contain a slight admission of the amusement that he felt.
"Well. . . Good God, what are they then?" Hunt managed at last. He realized that in his astonishment he had let his cigarette slip from his fingers and made hasty efforts to retrieve it from the side of his chair.
Danchekker watched the pantomime in silence, then replied. "Let me see now, to answer directly the questions that you have just asked would not really convey very much, since they all interrelate. Most of them follow from the work I have been doing here ever since we got back from Ganymede, which covers quite a lot of ground. Perhaps it would be simpler if I just start at the beginning and follow it through from there." Hunt waited while Danchekker leaned back and interlaced his fingers in front of his chin and contemplated the far wall to collect his thoughts.